A roar echoed as the griffin launched itself at the group of Silver Key members, who were already too battered to fight back.
Rip—
In an instant, the griffin's beak clamped onto the neck of one Silver Key member, severing his head from his body. Cohen was starting to regret telling the griffin to go for the necks—he'd forgotten to mention it was to keep the bodies intact for potential Inferi.
Moments later, the scene was a bloodbath. Crimson splattered the ground, with torn flesh and windpipes scattered like rice grains in vomit.
"Bit disgusting," Cohen muttered, grimacing.
"These are for your… what was it, Inferi?" the old griffin asked, its blood-soaked feathers glinting as it perched among the corpses.
Cohen's mouth twitched. "No heads left. Never mind, doesn't matter. Want to split the rest and eat them?"
The griffin didn't seem hungry.
Cohen turned to the old basilisk. "What about you?"
[I can't stomach this,] the basilisk hissed, shaking its head furiously. [I'm still thinking about that octopus from the temple…]
[Alright, alright, I'll take you for a proper meal after we're done,] Cohen said with a sigh.
No one would find this place anytime soon. The bodies could rot into bones before anyone stumbled across them. Cohen and his companions had bigger fish to fry—like ambushing the traitors in the Greek Ministry of Magic.
In a typical "thrilling plot," they'd use the names of the traitors extracted from the Silver Key members' memories to report them one by one or trick them into exposing themselves. That would save the Greek Ministry the effort of chasing down a "mad griffin and basilisk" for attacking "innocent" wizards.
---
"Won't the Ministry officials think we're just attacking them randomly?" the old griffin asked as Cohen led it to the Greek Ministry's entrance. It suddenly realized the implications. "I've heard griffins that attack wizards don't exactly meet happy ends…"
"They don't," Cohen admitted, riding on the griffin's back. They were cloaked by the basilisk's invisibility magic, blending into the sparse crowd. Occasionally, someone bumped into the massive, invisible griffin, but by the time they reacted, it was gone. "The Ministry might hunt you for decades."
The griffin fell silent for a moment. "No other way to handle this?"
"You could try telling the Minister, 'Hey, you've got traitors named so-and-so, including your deputy,'" Cohen said dryly. "Good luck with that."
The griffin had no better ideas.
"Don't worry, you won't be homeless," Cohen said, patting its head. "You, your kid, and the other critters can stay at my place with the basilisk and its pet Chimaera. It's just a few more mouths to feed at the sanctuary."
Room and board included? The griffin perked up.
"Th-thanks…" it stammered, a bit embarrassed.
[What're you two chatting about?] the basilisk asked, its head resting on Cohen's shoulder. [Maybe I should learn human speech. It's frustrating not understanding you…]
[We're talking about letting the griffin stay with us,] Cohen replied. [You and your little snake buddy will have company.]
[Really?] The basilisk's voice lit up. [My precious grandson, I knew you—]
[Call me Cohen out here,] he interrupted.
[Right, precious grandson,] the basilisk said cheekily.
The assassination plan moved smoothly to its first step. Using the memories from the Silver Key members, Cohen tracked down the first traitor—a balding wizard in plain robes, discussing something in an office with another wizard. Both were on the traitor list.
Their Greek jabbering was gibberish to Cohen, but he recognized their faces and the sneaky thrill they radiated, like they were brokering some shady underground deal.
"Who's there?!" the two snapped, suddenly alert, staring at the doorway.
The griffin's massive size meant the office door had to be fully opened for it to enter. Cohen could've stashed the griffin in his case and gone in alone or with the basilisk, but that wouldn't pin the blame on the griffin—or satisfy its thirst for revenge.
Before the wizards could draw their wands, Cohen, in Dementor form, glided to their side and silently siphoned a chunk of their souls.
The scene turned gruesome again. Without Cohen's earlier instructions, the griffin tore into the two with savage abandon, leaving their bodies riddled with bloody gashes.
"Bit too terrifying," Cohen said, eyeing the carnage. "Time for some cleanup."
If he moved on to the next traitor now, these gory scenes might spark panic in the Greek Ministry, which wouldn't be great for the local magical creatures. It'd look like a random attack.
But Cohen had a plan.
"What are you doing?" the griffin asked, puzzled, as Cohen, still invisible, rifled through the bloodied corpses.
"They've got a transaction list for poached magical creature parts," Cohen said. "Amateurs. If I were a villain, I wouldn't keep evidence like this lying around."
If someone owed him, he'd take their life to settle the debt.
He found the list—detailing trades for creature limbs and organs—and placed it prominently on the desk, pinning it with one of the wizard's severed hands. Instantly, the scene shifted from a random "terrorist attack" to a "gruesome but justified revenge."
Cohen half-expected the system to award him some goodwill points, but nothing happened.
"Next target," he said.
After cleaning the blood off the griffin and basilisk, Cohen climbed back onto the griffin's back. He left the griffin's bloody claw prints on the floor, though.
"AAAAH!" A witch screamed as she entered to deliver paperwork. The stench of blood hit her first, followed by the horrifying scene, making her skin crawl.
As the invisible griffin brushed past her, its feathers grazing her side, she froze, eyes wide, holding her breath in terror.