Something is wrong
The bloody sun was high in the sky, and deep in the dark ancient woods there lived a group of ancient creatures.
They had ferocious, red eyes, two inches of ghastly fangs in their mouths, skin as cold as frost, and a cold heart beating in their chests.
They are the unfortunates cursed by the devil, the root of all evil.
Godric Gryffindor was reading with interest The Dark Race, a book he had borrowed from his friend Roina Ravenclaw.
"Here's what you need to know," said his friend, handing him the book and looking at him worried. "Wizards are one of the dark races, but compared to vampires and werewolves, we're still too vulnerable." He did not care much about the wave, smiled: "rest assured, with my strength, not hurt me." Roina sighed. "I hope so. You must not be careless, my friend."
Blood is the source of our magic.
He yawned greatly, a mist of drowsiness rose in the green pupils of his eyes, and an incomprehensible smile appeared on his lips. More powerful than a wizard? I wish I could fight him a few times. Red hair like a waterfall wanton spread in the back of the head, can the sun refracted on it, flashing bright luster.
"What's the matter? Salazar." Godric Gryffindor, wearing white gloves, was enjoying a hearty lunch. Turning his head strangely, he noticed that his best friend's mind had been wandering frequently, a state of mind that would have been dangerous for the cautious Slytherin. By the way, it's been a while since I touched the hilt. Why don't we fight him? He stroked his chin and pondered earnestly, perhaps to perk up Salazar's sagging spirit and loosen his neglected muscles. Salazar Slytherin's face was flat, his pale green irises marked with the caring look of his best friend, and he was moving his cutlery steadily. "Nothing."
Godric rubbed his eyes together as he disappeared into the depths of the Forbidden Forest near Hogwarts in his black robes. His friend had been in and out of the forest many times, often returning only once in a while. Not that he didn't have confidence in his abilities, Merlin, for the first time since he had met Slytherin, he had matched his opponent in a duel.
The robes were hunting in the wind, and the bodies of two wizards with staffs were moving fast. One of them had silver hair that was crystal clear, and a pair of emerald snake eyes carved on the serpentine staff were shining with unparalleled power under the master's delicate control. The other, with his flowing red hair, danced wildly through the air, his eyes blazing, and in the sun, he slowly raised the ruby-encrusted sword of Godric, pointing it at his opponent with startling force, blazing like a fiery flame.
Well, it doesn't seem like there's anything to worry about. His blood boils at the thought of the unforgettable experience. But while the magical creatures are bound to Hogwarts, there are undeniably unknown dangers lurking deep within the Forbidden Forest. For the sake of his friend's safety, he thought he might as well go with him next time. Yeah, and somewhere to fight.
But he did not expect that his next encounter with his best friend would be at this time. The depths of the empty forest were unusually quiet, and the sound of leaves falling to the ground was distinctly amplified. The two figures faced each other. Godric sniffed. The air smelled faintly of blood. He watched with sharp eyes as drops of blood trickled down from the torn sleeve of the man opposite. "Are you hurt?" Facing the light, he looked more closely at the face of his friend, whom he had not seen for a long time. Even as Salazar's face was pale and a thin sweat ran down his forehead, his other hand did not loosen its grip on his wand. But when he saw who was in front of him, his tense spirit suddenly relaxed a little. His eyes bloodshot with pain, he smiled a little self-mockingly at the thought of Slytherin having such a miserable day and being seen by someone he knew.
In the medical-smelling medical room at Hogwarts, their friend Hufflepuff ripped apart the cold sweat and blood from Slytherin's back, gently peeling off patches of cloths clinging to the muddied flesh. "Bear with me." The wizard in bed gave a little stiff snort. "Pain at last?" Godric leaned back on a nearby chair with his head on one arm, and with the other hand he kept dipping into and out of a small white porcelain jar, eating the seeds and admiring the man's pitiful appearance. Tut, tut, that man was so patient, he didn't say a word all the way, and if he hadn't heard the faint breathing he would have thought he was going to meet Merlin.