In the Jovonovich family's territory, what they had no shortage of was brambles and thickets.
The place they were in wasn't a castle, but it was flanked by mountains.
"John," Uncle Alexei found him after the banquet.
This uncle was the one who had left him that potion. He was different from Andrei and Seriozha, carrying a sense of youth and wisdom.
"Since you've chosen to return here, that also means accepting yourself." Alexei tossed a nut into the air.
A crow swooped down and swallowed it whole.
Alexei smiled. "That vial—you haven't drunk it yet, have you?"
"I want to understand," John didn't hide, and said plainly, "about the Jovonovich, and that unusual potion."
"You're very smart, and just as cautious," Alexei said with a sigh. "It's as if God gifted the Jovonovich with you."
John stayed silent.
He knew his grandfather's family placed great importance on him. That much was obvious from his name.
Yadani—the name carried another meaning: God's gift.
Before he learned about the hidden nature of this world, John had never thought much about the meaning of his name, nor had he paid attention to the peculiarities of his grandfather's family.
It was only when that potion and his uncles appeared at home that he realized this kind, welcoming family was hiding secrets tied to the wizarding world.
"At midnight, all the secrets will be revealed in the mountains."
Alexei ruffled John's hair with a smile, though there was a trace of reluctance in his eyes. "If possible, I hope you can accept us, all of us…"
His voice was swallowed by the wind toward the end. Alexei headed to the front hall to join the group trying to drown Watson in liquor.
The family brewed their own spirits, with a wine cellar hidden beneath the manor.
Watson wanted to escape, but there was no way.
A few uncles pinned him in place; if not for Grandfather telling them to show some respect to their brother-in-law, he might have been carried out flat.
John lifted his head toward the moon. An owl swooped down, carrying a letter.
Glancing back at his uncles, he took the letter and opened it.
"Grindelwald has vanished." His eyes locked onto that single line.
He crumpled the letter in his palm, and flames consumed it to ash.
Closing his eyes, his thoughts churned.
Grindelwald's appearance was already suspicious.
"Coming for the Grail, is he? But how would he know about it?"
The doubts in his heart lingered, and John unconsciously rubbed the ring on his finger.
Grindelwald was different from Voldemort. John knew almost nothing about him.
Their only encounter had been that time in the Ministry of Magic.
Before that, he had only seen Grindelwald's name mentioned on the cards about Dumbledore.
That man was an extremist; in Grindelwald's era, his followers spread across Europe.
Their goal wasn't just to dominate the wizarding world, but to break the Statute of Secrecy and place wizards above Muggles.
If Voldemort represented pure-blood supremacy, then Grindelwald embodied magical supremacy.
"This man is even trickier than Voldemort."
An enemy in the shadows while he stood in the light—this was the situation John hated most.
What's worse, Grindelwald had taken Dumbledore's Elder Wand. That made things even more dangerous.
"The great war of 1945… Dumbledore defeated Grindelwald."
That battle had ended with Dumbledore's victory, Grindelwald imprisoned in Nurmengard.
Fifty years later, he had suddenly reemerged.
Dragging his thoughts back, John recalled his own encounter with Grindelwald—the strange feeling the man had given him.
"Haah.. Forget it. Dumbledore will deal with his old friend. As for the Horcrux inside the Order of the Phoenix, I still need to find a way to get it."
If the sky fell, Dumbledore would be the one holding it up. From the looks of Grindelwald and Voldemort's attitudes, the two weren't truly allies—at best, they were just using each other.
That being the case, John wasn't too worried about the two Dark Lords showing up at Hogwarts at the same time.
When midnight came, John headed toward the mountain. He remembered being taken there for hunting once, so the place left an impression.
There was a cave in the mountain.
Back then, Andre had mysteriously led him there, but John's mother had found out and dragged him back.
Now, setting foot on the mountain again, what had once seemed ordinary was different—John could feel the elements pulsing vividly around him.
Could it be… my uncles are wizards too?
Suppressing the doubt in his heart, John pressed forward.
A bear's roar broke the silence. He turned his head and saw a massive brown bear, nearly two meters tall.
"Roooar—!"
The bear reared up on its hind legs and slammed its paw against a tree, snapping the trunk in half.
It spotted John and charged at him, thunderous footsteps shaking the ground and startling birds into flight.
John's expression stayed calm as he said evenly, "Stop."
The brown bear wasn't about to listen. It reared up on its hind legs, both massive paws ready to crush this insignificant human.
||Stop||
John lifted his gaze slightly, his pupils narrowing sharply into vertical slits. A wave of pressure burst forth, freezing the bear in place.
The aura of a higher predator wiped the ferocity clean off the bear's face. It let out a whimper, almost pleading.
"This bear…" John recalled the cub he had once seen in the mountains.
The great beast toppled over, exposing its belly, its whole body radiating submission.
"Not bad—seems to have some spirit." John stepped forward and rubbed the bear's stomach with his hand.
"Feels good. As fur, it would make a fine coat."
He stared down at the bear, watching until the creature nearly sobbed, then finally chuckled and patted its belly. "Pfft~ Alright, I'll let you go."
The bear scrambled up, hurriedly licking his arm in a show of flattery.
After sending it off, John continued on his way.
"Was that supposed to be a test?"
It didn't feel like the bear's appearance was coincidence. Especially here, in Jovonovich territory—unless his uncles allowed it, such creatures wouldn't wander this close.
Moving deeper into the mountain, John encountered more things.
He came across three lynxes, and then a lion brimming with raw savagery.
The lynxes moved with explosive speed, and the lion leapt as if it were flying.
From the thick grass, venomous snakes slithered, their scales flashing with ominous colors.
Even for a country known for its rugged wilderness, wasn't this a little excessive?
As John neared the mouth of the mountain cave, a wolf's howl echoed in his ears.
It was a silver wolf, stronger than an ordinary one, its fur gleaming under the moonlight.
The wolf only watched him from a distance.
Meeting its gaze, John stepped into the cave.
Inside stretched a tunnel—dark, deep, like a giant serpent devouring everything as it wound further in.
With his night vision, John could make out strange symbols and murals along the walls.
The reason they seemed strange was because many depicted magical creatures.
Griffins, winged horses with eagle heads, Acromantulas, werewolves, banshees…
And some beings John had never seen before.
For example, the murals showed Vikings crossing the seas, while terrifying sea monsters lurked in the waters.
As John walked further in, the figures on the walls changed.
They were no longer Vikings, but men clad in plate and leather armor, summoned by the kingdom to wield swords against the magical creatures that appeared within its lands.
The kingdom rewarded them with treasure, which they used to purchase goods from a man who looked like a wizard.
John even spotted a mandrake drawn among the trade.
With the wizard's artifacts aiding them, these men dealt with magical creatures far more easily.
But one day, the wizard refused to continue trading with them.
Without his help, they suffered heavy losses.
In pursuit of power like the wizard's, they sought out someone who could wield magic at a spring.
The wizard who had left was hardly benevolent—he had tried to take the king's wife and been stopped.
In revenge, he unleashed a plague upon the kingdom.
So the men struck a bargain with the sorcerer at the spring and received a potion.
Drinking it made them stronger.
But the price of that strength was a lifespan of only a few short years.
Back then, they hunted down the wicked wizard on the king's orders. After killing him, only one young man survived.
The king rewarded that survivor.
The young man was granted a fief and enough gold to last ten lifetimes.
Unlike the others, he had been cautious when dealing with the sorcerer at the spring—he never drank the potion.
After years of study, he managed to alter the potion.
He became a lord, raising orphan after orphan who had survived various disasters.
When those children grew up, they too served the kingdom.
Until one day... The kingdom gave a new order, changing their mission.
Not only were they to hunt magical creatures, but they were also given another task.
To eliminate those who threatened the kingdom.
That task was—Fuu..
John brushed his fingers over the carved figure carrying a silver sword on its back.
"Witch hunters."
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