Evans hadn't expected that the ancestral home of the Bellance family would be a small house located in a Muggle village.
There was no difference between this place and the other Muggle houses around it, except that it was slightly larger. No concealment magic had been cast on it either—it stood openly in the Muggle world.
Perhaps it was only because this remote countryside had no judgment knights that this house had survived to this day?
Following behind the old man, Evans watched him skillfully pull out keys from his pocket and open the door.
The next second, a series of delighted voices reached Evans's ears.
"Grandpa!"
"Grandpa, you haven't been back for half a month! What happened?"
Those children crowded around Bellance, but very tactfully, none of them touched his body.
Behind this group of children, several young men and women walked to the door, smiling as they watched the scene at the entrance, and nodded to Evans in greeting.
They didn't ask about Evans's purpose, as if they thought it was perfectly normal for old Bellance to bring someone home.
Looking at those children and the young adults, Evans's eyes flashed with surprise.
Their appearances had no similarities at all—they didn't look like a family.
This place was more like... an orphanage?
Glancing at the old man surrounded by children beside him, Evans thought it was quite possible.
Perhaps Bellance wasn't a family surname at all, but just this old man's name.
This would explain why, when he had previously asked if the old man was from the Bellance family, his response was that he was Bellance.
But... if Bellance wasn't a family, why did each generation walk between Muggles and wizards, working for their peaceful coexistence?
"Adam, dinner isn't ready yet, is it?"
"No, Grandpa."
A young man standing closest nodded.
"Add another place setting. I want to invite this young man for dinner."
"Alright."
Dinner at the Bellance house was no different from an ordinary Muggle family's. Evans ate until he was about seventy percent full as usual, then stopped.
After finishing dinner, old Bellance suddenly called out to him and led him upstairs.
Driven by curiosity, Evans didn't refuse this invitation and followed the old man upstairs.
But during the process of going upstairs, a small accident occurred.
Perhaps due to hidden injuries left from the dungeon, the old man suddenly bent over sharply like before and began coughing violently, even falling backward.
Without hesitation, Evans supported the old man's arm, once again touching his body.
He had always wanted to ask what exactly the magical restriction on old Bellance was. Now he had a chance to experience it again.
In an instant, Evans once again experienced that feeling of being enveloped by pain.
The old man's physical condition was obviously worse than last time—he couldn't even push away the arm supporting him.
The blurry images began to become clear.
People he had helped personally pushed him onto the stake. People he had saved stabbed daggers into his chest.
Countless abusive words rang in his ears, and countless brutal scenes appeared before his eyes.
The people in the images walked among Muggles, being pushed around, cursed at, and often attacked.
Their actions were understood by no one, their efforts were never acknowledged by anyone.
Muggles viewed them as the embodiment of evil, and as long as they showed even the slightest hint of magical ability, they faced endless abuse and attacks.
The sharpest sword in the world couldn't cut as deeply as those words, but now Evans heard countless such insults every second.
All the images were gray, as if this world had no light left, only endless sorrow.
This wasn't one person's sorrow—no matter how deep one person's experience, they couldn't go through so many things.
Only the sorrow of countless people layered upon one person could condense such memories.
It wasn't until the old man slowly stood up and pushed away his arm that Evans broke free from those countless images.
He looked at the old man's sorrowful eyes and finally understood why those eyes always carried pain.
"You... inherited all the negative memories of your clansmen?"
Feeling that vast ocean of despair, even though it was only for half a minute, Evans felt waves of hostility rising in his heart.
If he had to endure all this constantly, he definitely couldn't persist.
Looking at the small orb on his wrist, Evans spoke softly.
"I can help you forget."
Carl's venom, when diluted, could make people forget all bad memories. He believed that even if he couldn't break the magic around Bellance, it could make him slightly more comfortable.
But old Bellance firmly shook his head, refusing his suggestion.
"Even though those Muggles have treated you like this, you still want to... fight for them?"
After witnessing those scenes, Evans couldn't understand where this old man's determination came from.
If he had encountered these things, he would have long since turned into a madman wanting to destroy the world.
But hearing Evans's words, the old man's gaunt face showed a smile.
He chuckled softly and spoke in a calm tone.
"Why blame them? They're just blinded by hatred and so-called faith."
"They have no dreams, no ideals of their own. Every day, just for a piece of bread, they have to give their all."
"They just want to live, but someone has exploited this mindset, guiding them to blame all their dissatisfaction on one group."
"Even without wizards, this group could be others. Heretics, scientists, or even ordinary people with labels pinned on them."
"This way, they vent their dissatisfaction with life and become devout believers again."
Old Bellance straightened up, those eyes forever filled with sorrow looking out the window.
"When did the church become like this?"
"Originally, it was just an organization that guided people toward goodness and united compatriots."
"Even the so-called Bible was just spreading principles in a way people could more easily accept."
"When did interpreting holy texts become something monopolized by the church's upper echelons?"
"And when did the church, which should guide people toward goodness, become an earthly kingdom that could influence wars and even actively start them?"
At this point, a trace of anger appeared in the old man's originally sorrowful eyes.
"War after war, the church draws nourishment from them to grow rapidly, until it can't even control this power itself."
"But they would rather split into several parts than give even a bit of nourishment to the people under their rule."
"The tithe tax has long exceeded the original one-tenth. People work hard for a year, and the compensation they receive might not even cover rent."
"The pure holy light has become torches on prison walls, constantly sweeping over every believer humble as dust."
"They are Catholics, Orthodox, Jews, and even Protestants. The meager wages they earn through hard work are taken as devotion to the Lord, willingly handed over to the church to be used as weapons against their compatriots."
"Their gods need devout faith, their bishops need better lives, but what do they get?"
"Why, after their busy daily work, must they use their remaining leisure time to fight so-called heretics until their lives end?"
Bellance's voice had no fluctuation, but the calm tone let Evans hear anger that had been suppressed for a long time.
After a long while, the old man turned around, faced Evans, and spoke softly.
"Can I ask you to do something? It's not difficult for you."
"Please speak." Evans nodded.
"I hope that after I leave, you'll help me knock out these children and hide them."
"They've received some Silencer power and know many things. Lavok won't let them go."
Hearing this, Evans was slightly stunned, then his eyes flickered slightly.
He roughly understood what the old man before him was going to do.
He was going to complete that trial, but the subject of the trial was no longer himself.
But Evans still had some doubts he wanted answered.
"I can help you hide these people, but why knock them out?"
"I think leaving without saying goodbye isn't a good habit."
"No," the old man shook his head. "They would definitely try every means to come with me, and I... can't protect them at that time."
"Then you should know this might become a lifelong regret for them," Evans said seriously.
If the leader went on the journey alone without taking these followers, anyone would feel regret.
But there was no wavering in the sorrowful eyes of the old man before him.
"If it weren't for you, I might have taken them along."
"After all, I have no friends in the wizarding world, and they couldn't possibly offend Lavok for my sake."
"But since they can survive, why should they accompany me to death?"
"They might have regrets, but they can spread our ideas instead of letting Bellance become a vanished name, leaving only an ending forgotten by both wizards and Muggles."
"I've never married or had children in my life, but I don't think not leaving descendants is a regret."
"But if even our ideas can't be left behind... that would truly be a regret."
"Besides, for this matter, I alone am enough."
At this point, the old man showed a confident smile.
"Let them hate me, let them miss me. Let them live on... with their longing for me."
After a long silence, watching the old man slowly draw his wand, Evans spoke softly.
"You're leaving now?"
"Yes... please."
As his words fell, old Bellance's wrinkled lips slowly curved up. His body turned, and he disappeared from the spot.
Staring at where the old man had left, after a long while, Evans chuckled softly and shook his head.
"Getting caught up in such a mess over a simple meal hardly seems worth it."
After speaking, his eyes flickered with some strange colors as he drew his wand and wiped it with his hand.
A plan had already formed in his mind.
Just hiding the Bellance family members—how could that be as convenient and quick as solving the crisis once and for all?
A rhinoceros-like skull faintly appeared on the back of his hand, a red light shining at his fingernails before slowly disappearing.
"Lavok Lestrange, is it?"
"Your Lestrange family really does tend to produce bad apples like you."
[Chapter Complete]
***
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