Descent

May 7, 1979. London.

Within an ancient manor.

The Mephisto Family had survived and endured for nearly a thousand years...

As one of the oldest bloodlines in the wizarding world, the Mephisto Family's influence was beyond question.

Rumor had it that one-fifth of the dark spells still circulating in the wizarding world had been invented by the Mephisto Family's ancestors.

Even a thousand years ago, before King Edward of England had died, Mephisto wizards had already walked the lands of Great Britain, leaving behind countless legends.

Most of those legends were far from pleasant. The Mephisto Family was a wizarding family that revered Dark Magic, and in the hands of eloquent Muggle writers, they would certainly have been portrayed as an exceedingly evil family of wizards.

The great villains of a righteous fantasy tale.

During the Renaissance, the demon "Mephisto" who appeared in Shakespeare's Faust had perhaps been adapted from the long-standing British folk legends surrounding the Mephisto Family.

Dark Magic was known as "evil magic." Its frequent use could even warp one's nature. For a family that revered Dark Magic, it was hardly surprising that a few utterly vicious bastards had emerged throughout the Mephisto Family's history.

Even now, many British Muggles still passed down stories of the Mephisto Family's evil wizards.

The Muggles simply did not know that the Mephisto Family truly existed, that magic was real, and that the family had endured in the wizarding world for ages with considerable prestige.

Yet today, the Mephisto Manor was unusually lively. Quite a few infamous dark wizards had gathered at the Mephisto estate to attend a banquet hosted by its owners.

Because, in the early hours of the morning, the sparsely populated Mephisto Family had gained another tiny new member.

The family head, Yalikesa Mephisto, had named him Sherlock Mephisto.

It was worth mentioning that the Mephisto Family now consisted of only five people: the family head Yalikesa; the eldest son, Fumengde Mephisto; his wife, Ellie Mephisto; the second son, Leiker Mephisto; and Sherlock Mephisto, the son of Yalikesa's eldest son.

Only five family members remained.

Sherlock's birth should have brought tremendous joy to the Mephisto Family, yet every one of them wore an expression that resembled a forced smile.

Sherlock's mother, Ellie, was in the manor bedroom with a madwoman named Bellatrix.

"Oh... what a lovely little Mephisto."

Bellatrix repeatedly tried to lean over the crib and shower the newborn Sherlock with affection.

But each time, his mother Ellie sternly stopped her.

Letting Bellatrix sneak in had been a regretful mistake. She should have driven her away the moment she begged to stay. It was all because her heart had been too soft. Every one of these Death Eaters was insane.

"I hope I... haven't disturbed you." A gloomy voice came from outside the door.

His stern and somber expression suggested a personality possessed of immense patience and restraint.

"Ugh... disgusting Snape. The moment I see you, I feel as though there's a snake writhing around in my stomach." Bellatrix made a retching gesture.

But Snape paid her no mind. "If it weren't for the Dark Lord's orders..." He cast Bellatrix a meaningful look. "The Dark Lord wants you downstairs... and bring the child."

"Hehehehe!" Upon hearing Snape's words, Bellatrix laughed happily like a girl who had received her favorite toy.

"My dear little Mephisto, you know it's the Dark Lord's command. Perhaps His Excellency wishes to see just how outstanding the future head of the Mephisto Family will be."

Ellie shouted angrily from the bed, but Bellatrix had already scooped up the child and hurried downstairs.

Ellie was still very weak. Had Snape not steadied her at the doorway, she might have fallen.

"Why... why... he's only a child." Ellie sobbed. He was her first child.

That was right. The banquet in the manor today was meant to celebrate the Mephisto Family's newest member. Given the Mephisto Family's standing in the wizarding world—especially among dark wizards—it was only natural that a number of distinguished dark wizards had come to offer their congratulations.

But dark wizards were never harmless people.

And now, they had all joined an organization united beneath the banner of "pure-blood supremacy," bowing beneath the Dark Lord and proudly calling themselves Death Eaters.

"You should... be grateful that little Sherlock is still a child. Sometimes, drawing the Dark Lord's curiosity and attention is not necessarily a good thing. In today's wizarding world, including among dark wizards... silence and concealment are the best ways to protect oneself."

Snape spoke those cryptic words before leaving.

But at that moment, the most miserable person was probably little Sherlock, still in Bellatrix's arms.

As Bellatrix ran wildly, panting all the way, Sherlock had to admit that she was quite well-endowed. Even with all that jostling, it felt as though he were lying atop a soft brocade quilt.

But Sherlock felt like crying inside.

Because he knew that the person he was about to meet was the greatest villain in the world of Harry Potter.

A terrifying dark lord. That man's greatest pleasure was killing people—his subordinates, ordinary people, enemies, passersby, it made no difference. Calling him a man who killed without spilling a drop of blood was practically praise, because why make things complicated when one Killing Curse would do?

Sherlock had still been somewhat puzzled when he first saw Bellatrix, but the moment he saw a younger Snape, he knew for certain that he had arrived in the world of Harry Potter.

Just because he had bought a five-yuan book from a street stall? That was enough to send him through time? Had tickets for transmigration become this cheap these days? No car accident? No lightning strike? No meteorite smashing into him? No Heaven-Turning Seal crashing into the Eastern Emperor Bell!

And when he learned that Voldemort wanted to see him, a newborn baby, Sherlock's heart had gone ice-cold.

"My lord! He's only a child..."

Fumengde stood beside Voldemort. All the Death Eaters called Voldemort the Dark Lord, but in light of the Mephisto Family's honor and prestige, Voldemort had permitted everyone bearing the Mephisto name to address him as "my lord."

The lavish banquet hall was arranged with all manner of magical wonders. House-elves bustled about, tending to every guest and seeing to their needs.

After all, everyone who had come tonight was insane.

When he saw Bellatrix emerge with Sherlock in her arms, Fumengde nearly despaired. He wanted to snatch his child from Bellatrix's embrace, but for the sake of the family's safety and legacy... at least before the Dark Lord, he did not dare do so.

"Relax, Fumengde. He is only a child. Who would harbor malicious intent toward an innocent life?"

Listening to Voldemort speak, Sherlock mischievously curled his lips. It probably would not be long before Voldemort tried to kill an innocent life and got killed in return, his body destroyed until nothing remained but a wandering wisp of a soul.

He even dared drink the blood of a unicorn, the embodiment of innocence. His claim that he would not harm an innocent life was utterly unconvincing.