Chapter 163: Altar, Beelzebubs Crawlers. (1/2)
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Meeting the Forbidden Forest wolves was an unexpected yet inviting experience. He didn't think that he would chance upon an extremely rare species, and now that Quinn knew about their existence, he had made a note about observing them — he wasn't a big fan of magizoology and ”alive” creatures, but with a species so rare, Quinn wasn't going to let his likes and dislikes color his judgment.
”The wolves pointed towards East,” he recalled and used a point me charm (east-direction version) to set himself a direction to trek in.
Quinn sighed as he jogged East; the scenery had returned to the continuous gray dullness with the wolves gone. The bleakness was starting to get on his nerves because of the sheer monotony. He concentrated on the ground, running, jumping, sliding over overgrow vines, exposed roots, and fallen tree trunks. Quinn's feet moved according to his will, and the rhythm and sound of his steps against fallen, dry leaves dulled the boredom.
But it seemed he was bored for nothing. He skipped over an old, fallen trunk log, and as his feet off the ground, his vision caught something.
Rustle, rustle; he looked at the ground ahead of him and the small spread of dry leaves parted, and from within, came launching out a bottle guard-sized leech with a hole full of pointy for a mouth; its gross and slimy wiggled in waves as it flew towards him.
Quinn's expression immediately turned into one of disgust and irritation. He should have known better to jinx the peace, and now he had to face these.
He took in a deep breath and exhaled a white mist straight onto the leech, freezing it inside a thin sheet of ice. The momentum of leech carried it over, and Quinn caught the ice-covered worm in his hand before mercilessly turning it into a meat patty by crushing its entire body inside the ice.
His feet finally touched the ground, and at that very moment, a gust of wind pushed every leaf up and away, revealing an infestation of big leeches lying on the ground.
'Bloody knew it!' he thought. ”Blood-sucking bugbears.”
As the name suggested, the leeches sucked blood, and Quinn hated them with a passion. He had been bitten by them once; it was during his surveillance over the forest trolls that one bit Quinn's arm, and within five seconds, Quinn felt like he had lost most of the blood in his arm. The leeches could suck in blood like a thirsty person in desert water. That day itself, Quinn had found that the leeches worked with teamwork.
The moment Quinn's other foot planted itself on the ground, the still leeches came to life, and at once, every one of them jumped up from the floor towards Quinn. In retaliation and defense, Quinn pulled up the same shield he had used against the acromantulas. The slugs met the protection and immediately burned up.
But the semi-circular shield wasn't enough as some leeches started within the boundary of the dome.
”F**k!” cursed Quinn as two leeches bit through his Noir-gear onto his feet.
He felt them sucking his blood, and unlike last time where he had tried to pull them just to fail and had to blast them off his body, this time he went another one. Freshly drawn blood maintained a magical connection to the owner for a brief spell of time, and right now, Quinn could feel his inside the leeches' body. He grinned cruelly, and immediately, his blood inside the leeches' bodies bubbled and burned through their flesh like a corrosive acid.
Simultaneously, both of the now-dead leeches fell down onto the ground. Quinn then pulled down his shield and then blasted every bugbeard he laid on his eyes.
”Any more?” he asked to one in particular.
Quinn looked around and looked vigilant as an infestation of blood-sucking bugbears meant there was a good source of blood for them, and any source of blood inside the Forbidden Forest had a high chance of being dangerous to him.
He silently jogged ahead, keeping a careful eye on his surroundings. He had dashed around twenty meters when he had to come to a skidding stop.
”Haha,” chuckled Quinn with a genuine smile on his face, ”I forget that he was supposed to be here.”
In front of Quinn laid a Cereberus: a hound, a monstrous hound that took so much space that it put elephants, Argog, and even the forest trolls to shame when it came to size. It had three heads. Three pairs of rolling, mad eyes; three noses, twitching and quivering in his direction; three drooling mouths, saliva hanging in slippery ropes from yellowish fangs.
”Fluffy, that's the name, right.”
Fluffy, the Cereberus got up on its feet that sported sharp and long claws on its paws. The six eyes remained fixed on Quinn as multiple guttural growls harmonized together.
”Hoho, you look much more intimidating awake, bruv,” smiled Quinn.
Fluffy's three heads barked and pounded its front paws on the dirt. The ground shook, and the barks filled the space between the trees.
If it was someone else of this size, Quinn would have been worried, but this was someone who Quinn knew how to handle.
Quinn built up magic into his throat before he started to whistle with a fun smile on his face. If Fleur Delacour put a dragon to sleep, then Quinn could put a Cereberus weak to music down to sleep with a whistle infused with thick bewitchment sleep spell laced into the sound.
Fluffy looked confused, and all three heads shook left-to-right, flapping their six ears. Fluffy stepped one step ahead, and in response, Quinn moved one step back and to the right.
He continued to whistle for half a minute before Fluffy went down to his feet, another ten seconds before he retreated into a dog sleeping posture, and by the end of the minute, Fluffy was sleeping soundly.
”This might be the easiest thing I've done in these woods,” whispered Quinn. He didn't need to continue to whistle because of the infused, bewitching sleep magic.
Quinn walked ahead and squatted near Fluffy's paw, and stared at the black claws in interest. He shot cleaning spells on one nail before touching it.
”Hmm, I wonder how tough this nail is,” pondered Quinn before shrugging and raising his arm to drop a chop charged with slicing spell on it, putting a deep gash on it.
”Okay, this is tough enough,” nodded Quinn before once again raising his hand, and this time when he dropped a chop, the tip of the claw was cleanly chopped off, ”well, it will get tougher when I'm done with it. Some alchemy will do the trick.”
Quinn bagged the hardened keratin into his pockets before moving further East but not before rubbing Fluffy's head.
”Sleep well, buddy. You'll be up in no time.”
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”The wolves messed with me, didn't they,” spat Quinn, ”it's been a half-hour; where the hell is the vault?! Those mutts lied to me.”
He stood deep in the Forbidden Forest with his hands on his waist, looking around. He was so deep in that if Quinn couldn't recall his every step, he might not have been able to get out of the dense and spanning woods.
Quinn looked up and sighed because he couldn't see what time it was. He took out the pocket watch he used with Noir — one of his designs, a minimalist construct that didn't have any fancy functions and only a printed dial with two clock-arms covering a solid and accurate mechanism.
”It's getting late. I should —”
Quinn stared straight ahead at the ground, but he was focusing on his peripheral vision.
”Not going to lie, but I feel embarrassed,” said Quinn, slowly turning to his left to see what he had caught. ”How did I miss that? I've been standing here for a solid half-minute.”
Quinn walked forward and stopped after ten steps. He tilted his head and stared in all directions to his front.
”A masterful work,” he commented, ”fascinating illusion work given the amount of light in here. Ah, now I see, it's targetting my magic and not sight.”
Quinn clicked his tongue and scrunched his face. He didn't like that his magic was manipulated to influence his sense. Of the many magics he knew, Quinn considered his illusion magic to be one of the better ones. Now seeing that he was fooled wasn't an irritating feeling.
”Is this how people feel when they are humbled?” he pondered aloud while raising his hands. ”Not a feeling I like, absolutely not a feeling I enjoy.”
He stabbed his hand forward, and it disappeared till his elbow joint.
”Definitely an illusion,” he sighed, ”wait.. . what am I doing playing with it?!”
Quinn gathered his magic and proceeded to get free from the illusion. Almost instantly, the illusion fell down for Quinn, and the sight inside made him take a sharp breath.
The illusion was cast in a dome shape, and inside was another clearing.
A golden ray of light fell down from a hole in the canopy. A ray from heaven dropping down to the desolate lands, illuminating it with hope. On the ground, where the sunlight stuck, stood a square altar, bathing in the spotlight from mother itself.
Even just this made Quinn think it was a beautiful sight, but the altar in golden sunlight wasn't the only thing hidden under the illusion.
Around the raised altar, outside of the sunlight, in the darkness of the dim woods, were signs of strong and vital life. One of the most charming plants that Quinn had seen graced the land around the altar with its stunning beauty.
They didn't have the gift of light bestowed upon them from the sun above, so mother nature decided to give them their own light. White flowers bloomed on the plants, and those flowers with white petals glowed with soothing light, softly showing that not everything in the Forbidden Forest was a shade of grey.
Quinn canceled the transfiguration on his eyes as he stepped inside to see the scene like he was meant to see to it.
”Outside is white and gold,” he repeated.
White was from the flowers, while the gold represented the golden light irradiating the altar.
A perfect contrast of two opposites.