Ethan didn't notice that a dark, twisted figure was crawling behind him in the shadows. If he had known, he would definitely have stopped in his tracks and enthusiastically invited Hamburg to join him in exploring the secret treasure left by the dark wizard Herpo.
At that moment, Ethan stood before the study wall, waved his wand, and with a swift motion tore away the organizers' disguise. The dark yellow wallpaper peeled away like old skin, revealing a crimson painting hidden behind it.
It seemed to depict a wild feast, with countless figures drinking and devouring, their faces showing exaggerated twisted smiles, yet tears continuously streaming from their eyes. In the center sat a withered golden chalice.
At the bottom, on the well-preserved wooden frame, was carved the name of this painting: "The Crimson Cup."
Suddenly, the figures in the painting spoke in unison, chanting: Offer me desire, fear, and blood! Until the liquid fills the golden cup! Otherwise, you shall not pass...
The voice suddenly stopped, like a jammed tape recorder. The crimson liquid flowing from above grew more and more abundant until it overflowed the chalice, dyeing its golden exterior red, yet still didn't stop!
Ethan smiled as he watched them.
Two seconds later, the figures in the painting all bowed their heads and retreated. The red liquid pouring from the golden cup flowed down the painting, seeping onto the wall and forming a crimson path wide enough for one person to pass through.
"Hope it doesn't dirty my clothes. Looks very hard to wash," Ethan muttered.
Frowning, he carefully stepped into it, being cautious not to let the filth stain his clean and tidy robes.
A moment later, Hamburg also crawled over with great difficulty. He looked at the crimson path undulating like a living thing on the wall before him. An instinctive fear rose in his heart, making his whole body tremble.
And this fear made his mind slightly clearer. Maybe... he should just wait here for that brat to come out... No need to follow him to his death...
At this moment, the figures in the hanging painting spoke: Cowardly rat, unworthy to witness the miracles of old.
This single sentence ignited Hamburg's rage.
"Who... who says I'm cowardly?! I'm going in right now! And then I'll burn you paper scraps!"
With that, Hamburg gritted his teeth, endured the nausea, and crawled into the sticky tunnel. He didn't see that after he entered, the figures in the painting all grinned, crying and laughing at the same time:
Only through sacrifice can one tread the path of blood... Raise the crimson cup, let the world drink suffering together!
You have entered the hidden place: Herpo's laboratory.
"Heave-ho."
Ethan used a Cutting Curse to slice open the tunnel, emerging from the gushing blood like a newborn from the womb.
"Scourgify."
Whoosh.
His body became clean and fresh again. Only then did Ethan raise his head and look around. His cobalt-blue eyes remained calm, his expression still indifferent, showing not a trace of excitement at having reached the treasure site.
This was a small room containing only an experimental table, a desk, and two rows of cabinets covered in grime. Dried web-like substances clung to the four walls, thicker than spider webs, resembling dead vascular tissue.
The cabinets were empty except for some broken vessels. Only on the desk was placed a square package. The package's exterior had faded, the thin rope binding it nearly rotten.
But Ethan keenly sensed that it was the "heart" of this area. It was the masterwork of the dark wizard ancestor Herpo's entire life, the "legacy" left for posterity. It was precisely the secret treasure he sought, lying quietly on the desk, waiting for a visitor to unwrap it.
Thump thump, thump thump!
Only now did Ethan's previously calm heartbeat begin to pound more forcefully.
"Protego."
Ethan chanted, a protective barrier rising around him. He took a deep breath, keeping himself rational and calm. Only then did he step forward, slowly pulling away the binding rope.
The rope came undone, and the package fell away, revealing several round ancient coins and an old notebook.
Ethan curiously picked up the notebook and began to read.
Strange moonlit groves, the merciless radiance illuminating all things, primitive whispering moths taking wing...
The text became increasingly illegible and disturbing. As he read, drops of dark red liquid seeped from the writing, penetrating the protective barrier and staining his fingertips.
Killing, devouring, endless desire...
Ethan's breathing unconsciously grew heavy. Terrifying bloodshot veins gradually crept into his cobalt-blue eyes.
Only killing can quench thirst; only life can sustain life...
Muggles, Mudbloods, half-bloods, pure-bloods... all merely nutrients of different quality...
Go seize, go sacrifice. Please, the crimson cup, embark on the path of conquest. Let the world bear your endless desire and lashing.
Evil, cruel, cold voices echoed from the notebook. Ethan slowly turned his head, meeting the gaze of Hamburg Carrow, who had tumbled out of the tunnel.
The moment Hamburg saw Ethan, a fear from primitive biological instinct instantly gripped his heart, fusing with evil thoughts and making him immediately raise his wand, aim at Ethan, and blurt out:
"Avada Kedavra!"
BANG!
Blinding green light shot from his wand tip, heading straight for Ethan!
Time seemed to slow at this moment. Ethan watched the green light rapidly expand in his vision. His lips moved, whispering: "Portal."
Instantly, a pitch-black doorway opened before him with a swoosh! It caught the green light, then shot it out from a doorway that opened beside Ethan, redirecting it to hit the notebook!
"Snap!"
The portal suddenly shattered.
AHHHHH!
With a shrill scream, the notebook flew out violently. It burst into flames with a whoosh, turning to charred ash.
Silence returned. The violence and restlessness permeating the air also gradually disappeared.
"Phew, much more comfortable." Ethan rolled his shoulders, making crackling sounds, speaking cheerfully.
He looked down at the pile of ash, his cobalt-blue eyes devoid of any warmth, like cold stars in the universe. He spoke with quiet conviction:
"Indeed, I love crimson artworks and am willing to depict scenes never seen in the human world. However, I can still distinguish between art and reality."
"The path of killing and violence you walked has been proven a failure by generation after generation. And in the future, it will surely fail again and again."
"No." Ethan shook his head.
Raising his eyes, his cobalt-blue pupils blazed with extraordinary radiance! "I will forge a different path! I will use my art to influence the world, to change the world! Let the world sing my name!"
A pleasant chime echoed in his mind.
You have rationally finished reading Herpo's notebook; you have gained enlightenment.
The "Lamp" has been lit in your skull.
Instantly, an old-style oil lamp slowly lit up in Ethan's mind. That golden flame, though only the size of a fingernail, burned steadily. As if it had been burning in the darkness for thousands upon thousands of years. From ancient times to now, from now to the future. Never extinguishing.
You walk the path of pursuing knowledge.
Awakening the Lamp, your voice and words will be more powerful than before; you will be more able to influence emotions and move hearts.
When you harvest darkness, you can make the light within the lamp brighter.
When the light is brighter, you can reach more hidden places and seek secret treasures.
Darkness?
Ethan looked up at the cowering figure before him. What a coincidence. Right now, in front of him, was a "darkness" that had just tried to kill him.
Under Hamburg's terrified gaze, Ethan raised the corners of his mouth and lifted his wand.