Matthew guided the Hippogriff down to the ground. Behind him, Gryffindor cried out, "Salazar?"
That handsome young man was actually Salazar Slytherin?
Matthew looked carefully. Perhaps to blend into the crowd, the black-haired young man was not wearing wizard robes, but ordinary Muggle clothes. However, around his neck hung a necklace Matthew knew well: Slytherin's Locket.
It seemed that studying Dark Magic had taken quite a toll on his appearance...
Matthew recalled the portrait of Salazar Slytherin in Hogwarts Castle. He had been a bald man with sunken cheeks and a white beard, far older and gloomier than the other three founders of his era.
Slytherin had not clearly seen who was riding the Hippogriff just now. Hearing someone call his name, he paused slightly and said in surprise, "Godric, is someone you know among the captured wizards?"
Gryffindor jumped to the ground and shook his head. "I came to help a friend. What about you? Why are you here?"
He did not believe this friend of his had come to save these wizards for no reason. After all, escaping from a town controlled by the Church was no easy task, and Slytherin was not someone who would risk everything for strangers.
Slytherin pointed toward the execution platform. "That one is my nephew."
Slytherin's older brother had died a few years ago. Before his death, he had entrusted his child to him. Now that something had happened, Slytherin could not ignore it.
Gryffindor said in surprise, "Was he captured in Wizard Town?"
"A group of wizards vanished from Wizard Town. They were all taken away by people from the Church, and my nephew was among them." Slytherin nodded. "I've been here for several days. I'm close to breaking the Stigmata Magic on the execution platform. Buy me some more time!"