This was a narrow passage that could barely allow three grown men to walk side by side. Link, holding his compass, led the way at the front, while Snape, Krell, and the other hunters followed two by two, leaving space for combat if needed.
The atmosphere in Link's team had actually relaxed quite a bit.
The hunters all had smiles on their faces. Some of the more seasoned ones were already chatting quietly with their companions about where they would go to enjoy themselves once this mission was over, with their reward and bounty money in hand.
That confidence came from their earlier smooth victory, destroying the Despicable Alliance's camp and wiping out its remaining members without a single injury.
Of course, part of it was because the interior of Nurmengard Prison was far more ordinary than they had imagined, nowhere near as dangerous as the legends claimed.
As for Link's earlier warnings, they all thought it was just the boss's routine pep talk, nothing of real importance.
But unlike them, Link, Krell, and Snape stayed on high alert.
Only the three of them had received detailed information about Nurmengard from Beckman.
And only they knew, Nurmengard's terrifying reputation was well deserved.
Built by wizard craftsmen who had been inspired by Grindelwald's ideology and who labored tirelessly day and night, the interior of Nurmengard was filled with terrifying traps and mechanisms.
Some might not fully grasp just how horrifying these contraptions were.
But if you put it this way, everyone would understand, under the effect of these traps, the difficulty of escaping from Nurmengard Prison was more than twice that of Azkaban, the legendary "Forbidden Zone of Humanity," the most secure wizarding prison in Europe, guarded by countless Dementors.
In the past several decades, not a single prisoner had ever come out of Nurmengard alive.
Even when the International Confederation of Wizards once tried to liberate it, they paid the price of nearly a hundred lives before finally conquering the now-empty fortress.
A place this dangerous, if it weren't for Beckman being their guide, Link wouldn't have come here even if he were beaten to death.
The team pressed forward, soon emerging from the long, narrow corridor and reaching the second floor via a spiraling staircase.
Compared to the first floor, the light here was much brighter.
That was entirely thanks to the corroded iron-barred windows on this floor. Sunlight and moss crept in through the cracks, spreading life into Nurmengard's gloom.
Link even saw a gray-brown bird perched carelessly on the windowsill, pecking at small bugs that lived among the moss. From time to time it let out a crisp, melodious chirp, a scene of tranquil beauty.
Unfortunately, none of them felt any joy or relaxation at all.
On the contrary, tension and dread were rapidly rising from the depths of their hearts, rushing to their heads, making their scalps tingle and their bodies go cold.
Because, not far from that serene greenery, was hell itself.
Dozens of fresh corpses lay quietly across the wide platform of the second floor, all bearing the Hartmann family crest on their robes.
Their bodies showed no wounds, nor were there any signs of a struggle. Some even wore bright, serene smiles. Their skin tone hadn't changed much either, it was as if a group of people had simply lain down here to take a blissful nap.
But everyone, including Link, knew, they were dead.
It was hard to accept. Judging by numbers alone, these corpses made up nearly half of the people Old Hartmann had brought.
In other words, they had just reached the second floor, and already half their group, wizards whose weakest members were still skilled combatants, had died.
And in such a bizarre way.
Chirp~ Chirp~
The bird on the windowsill, seemingly tired of hunting for bugs, hopped along the sunlight into the room. It landed on one of the corpses' faces and began to peck at the soft, moist eyeballs.
Once. Twice. Three times…
Gulp!
The sound of swallowing echoed among Link's team. Even battle-hardened hunters couldn't help feeling nauseous at such a sight. It was a visceral, human reaction.
Unlike them, Link and Snape only let their eyes rest briefly on the corpses before turning toward another passage at the side of the platform.
It led to the prison cells, an area still shrouded in absolute darkness compared to the bright platform they were on.
What was unsettling was that the darkness seemed to hide something, something thicker and deeper than mere shadow. Whatever it was lurked within, watching them with malicious intent, as if ready to swallow them whole at any moment.
"…What is that?"
Snape frowned. His mental strength, honed through years of Occlumency, made his perception nearly as sharp as Link's. He could clearly feel the disturbing presence within that passage.
"Gatekeepers," Link said calmly.
Snape's head whipped toward him, his face twisting with irritation. But Link just shook his head innocently.
"They are gatekeepers," he explained.
"A kind of terrifying creature created by Grindelwald's mad followers using dark magic, bloodline rituals, and hybridization experiments, made specifically to guard Nurmengard's doors."
"Or rather, they shouldn't really be called creatures anymore. They exist somewhere between spirit and matter, kind of like Dementors. From what I can tell, their attacks seem similar too."
"So, we deal with them using the Patronus Charm?" Snape asked gravely.
Although Link had compared them to Dementors, these things felt several times more terrifying, enough to make even Snape uneasy.
"Patronus Charm? What are you thinking?" Link said, a trace of sarcasm in his voice. "With this bunch's mental state, how many do you think could even cast one?"
"Then what do you suggest?!" Snape snapped.
"Simple," Link replied. "We avoid them. Like I said, they're gatekeepers. Haven't you noticed they're all guarding the prison corridor? We just need to not walk in like idiots."
Snape looked momentarily stunned, but Link didn't waste more time explaining. He turned and ordered the hunters to continue forward.
The hunters bit their lips and moved on. They weren't green recruits, they'd seen plenty of horror before. The eerie sight just now had shaken them, yes, but not enough to break their nerve.
Still, the carefree mood was gone. They were tense now, silent, alert.
That tension grew heavier with every step up the staircase.
Because almost every new floor they reached had more Hartmann corpses lying on its platform. The higher they climbed, the fewer the bodies became, but no one believed that meant the danger lessened.
After all, the ones who had made it this far would've been the strongest, smartest, and luckiest of the lot.
And yet, they were dead too.
The higher they went, the more grotesque the corpses became, some had bitten themselves to death, some had mutated grotesquely like victims of radiation poisoning, and some had turned black and hairy, killed by toxins.
Compared to these horrors, the smiling corpses on the second floor seemed almost peaceful, heavenly, even. At least they still had their bodies intact.
Link, unlike the others, was in excellent spirits.
Looking up at the staircase that finally revealed its end, he couldn't help but silently praise Beckman again.
That man hadn't just provided a complete guide to Nurmengard, he'd also effectively dealt with most of the Hartmann and Long family's forces for them.
Truly, the perfect guide.
And as if hearing Link's praise in his mind, Beckman's facial muscles twitched twice, then returned to their usual dazed calm.
His expression was a mixture of devotion, pain, and ecstasy. Alone, he continued to climb toward the top floor, toward Grindelwald.
It was as if he had forgotten the mission's true purpose altogether and saw this as nothing more than a pilgrimage.
This strange state had gripped Beckman since the moment he entered Nurmengard, and it hadn't left him since.
At first, Long, Hartmann, Little Schwartz, and the other wizards trailing behind him found it odd, but also convenient.
After all, if Beckman wanted to walk ahead, that meant he'd take the brunt of any traps or ambushes.
But as time went on, they realized just how wrong they had been.
On the second floor alone, they had lost nearly half their people.
Hartmann had seen it clearly, the culprits were translucent creatures, almost invisible except for faint outlines revealed under sunlight.
They were terrifyingly fast. Once they emerged from the darkness, they attacked everything alive within reach, no distinction, no mercy, and their touch meant instant death.
Yet Beckman, leading the way, and those close behind him had gone completely unharmed.
At the time, Hartmann had convinced himself it was just luck and timing, that they had moved fast enough to slip through unscathed.
But as they climbed higher, the pattern became stranger.
Many routes Beckman had just walked safely became death traps the moment they followed.
The deeper they went, the worse it got. On every floor, they had to leave behind several more bodies.
From a force of dozens, Hartmann's grand expedition had dwindled to a mere handful. His rage was boiling over, threatening to burn away what little reason he had left.
At last, the spiral staircase came to an end.
Beckman, still dazed but fearless, stepped forward without hesitation and pushed open the sealed stone door.
Creeeeak~
The ancient door screeched loudly from years of disuse.
Long and the others, already jumpy from repeated ambushes, flinched and whipped out their wands, bracing for another attack.
But nothing happened.
The door simply opened.
And Beckman, simply walked into the darkness beyond, as though it were perfectly safe.
Still, Long and the others refused to take a single step forward. Their past experiences had shattered any trust they once had in Beckman.
Only after Beckman lit a torch inside, letting its soft orange glow spill across their faces, did Long finally grit his teeth and step in.
Then Little Schwartz followed. Then Old Hartmann and his remaining family wizards.
Once everyone had entered, Beckman lit the rest of the torches.
Under the dim light, they realized the chamber was enormous, clearly expanded with Extension Charms. It was vast in length, width, and height, like an indoor plaza.
There were only two exits, the staircase they came from, and at the far end, a small door made of pure black stone, gleaming like obsidian.
Without hesitation, Beckman began walking toward that final door.
And then...
Perhaps it was the warm light giving Hartmann courage, or perhaps the aura from that black door was simply too ominous, but Hartmann finally snapped.
With a sharp flick of his wand, he yanked Beckman back with an invisible force.
Then he stormed forward and slammed him hard against the rough stone wall.
"Enough!" Hartmann roared, his face twisted with fury. "What the hell is going on here? You owe me an explanation!"
Not far away, Long and Little Schwartz stood silently, just watching.
They had no intention of stopping him.
In truth, they were glad Hartmann had done what they'd been dying to do themselves.
Everything that had happened was too strange to bear.
But faced with Hartmann's anger, Beckman showed no fear.
He slowly wiped away the spit that had landed on his face and said calmly, "You want to know what's going on? It's simple, it's Lord Grindelwald's counterattack. You didn't really think you could come here to kill him without him fighting back, did you?"
"Bullshit! Grindelwald, he..."
Hartmann started to shout, but his words suddenly stopped. The fury on his face froze, replaced by terror.
Because that small black door... had opened on its own.
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