"Wizards! Evil wizards!"
The surrounding Muggles screamed and scattered in panic. Dana shrugged helplessly. As expected, wizards in this era were heavily demonized—there wasn't a single Muggle who wasn't terrified of them. Even the brave Muggle who had previously seen through Dana now hid behind a pile of wooden barrels near the blacksmith's shop, shouting:
"You better scram! Otherwise, when the Inquisition's witch hunters arrive, you'll be dead!"
Dana could have used Apparition, the Spandim Gate, or even Zouwu's spatial teleportation, but he had no intention of fleeing just yet. Since he had been discovered, he might as well try to make contact with the Church's Inquisition. Perhaps he could find traces of the Avar Coven. After all, the Inquisition seemed more interested in capturing witches than male wizards.
If he could capture the witch hunters, whether by Legilimency or Imperio, he could extract the information he needed.
The commotion quickly drew attention. A dozen witch hunters appeared, emerging from the north and south streets, cornering Dana. They were clad in full armor, swords at their waists, shields on their backs, and hand crossbows strapped to their forearms.
Dana frowned. The Inquisition's witch hunters were heavily armed—all their metal components, including the crossbow bolts, were made of mentores metal. If even a mobile squad had this kind of equipment, what must the Church's main forces be like?
Dana raised his fingers. Despite their mentores armor, which could resist ordinary magic, flames, ice, and lightning could still harm the wearers. With his current magical power, ordinary mentores metal wouldn't completely block his attacks. Every material had its limits, and mentores metal was no exception.
"Wizard! I didn't expect you to be so bold—not even fleeing when discovered. No wonder… you're just a kid!"
"Captain, stop wasting words on him. He won't fetch much bounty, but he's enough for a drink!"
"Exactly! The sooner we finish, the sooner we can go home," said the captain, his voice full of cruel joy.
He waved his hand suddenly:
"Take him down! This kid has good skin; maybe the Bishop will be happy and grant us two more bounties. Be careful not to disfigure him!"
The witch hunters exchanged knowing, lewd smiles and unfastened their mentores metal chains, circling Dana like predators.
"Hahaha, Captain, don't tell me you plan to enjoy the kid yourself before handing him over?"
"Captain, that's unfair! If there's good stuff, everyone should share!"
The captain rolled his eyes. "Me first, then you can all do as you please."
The witch hunters' eyes gleamed green, like starving wolves who had gone half a month without a meal. The street was now empty, with only Dana and the hunters remaining. Ordinary citizens dared not intervene, and even the initially brave Muggle had disappeared.
Dana chuckled, a green light glowing on his fingers. Even if the hunters died, he had ways to obtain the information he wanted. At worst, he could fish their souls from the Sea of the Dead.
Just as Dana prepared to strike, a loud voice rang out from above:
"Damn lackeys! Die!"
Another voice followed: "Idiot, it's not your first day knowing them!"
Two bolts of lightning struck the witch hunters, who screamed and fell to the ground. The air filled with the nauseating smell of roasted flesh mixed with excrement and urine. When the smoke cleared, two figures appeared.
The first was burly, with red hair and a thick beard, wearing leather armor over a red wizard's robe. A greatsword hung on his back, and on his head was a hat Dana immediately recognized—the Sorting Hat, though ninety percent new.
The second was tall and slender, pale-skinned, with neatly slicked-back chestnut hair and a smooth, well-groomed beard. Unlike the red-haired man, he wore a dark green robe.
Dana was surprised; he hadn't expected to meet these two here. It was clear they were Godric Gryffindor and Salazar Slytherin, appearing only in their twenties or thirties.
Gryffindor laughed heartily and approached Dana. "This child has great courage! To fight back against witch hunters—such bravery! He will be my student!"
Slytherin sneered. "You're presumptuous. This child can already control magic freely. He clearly had a plan when facing those hunters. If he studies with you, he may lose his cunning and become a reckless brute like you. Studying with me is the correct choice!"
Gryffindor waved off Slytherin's remark. "It's not up to us. The child must choose for himself."
He stepped closer, but Dana took two steps back, repelled by Gryffindor's strong smell of alcohol, mingling unpleasantly with the lingering stench of meat and excrement. Gryffindor awkwardly halted.
"Child, what is your name?" he asked.
Dana raised an eyebrow. "Merlin." He felt that using this name might draw out members of the Avar Coven. Besides, he had inherited everything from his ancestor, Merlin—he was worthy of the name.
"Merlin?" Gryffindor frowned. "Child, that's no joke. At least show respect for our ancestors."
Slytherin, on the other hand, looked pleased. "I think this child has ambition. He will surely achieve great things. Could you be an Emrys?"
Gryffindor was startled. "An Emrys? Salazar, how do you know?"
"His face. This child looks just like Merlin in the portraits. I can't think of any other reason!"
Gryffindor reached to touch Dana's shoulder, but Dana quietly stepped back.
"Yes, gentlemen. I am an Emrys. I am grateful for your help, but I have things to do, so I must take my leave."
"Wait," Slytherin called. "You're seeking experience, yes? I once knew an Emrys who said children of the Emrys family must leave their homes to gain three years of experience before coming of age. We are knowledgeable about the wizarding world and have two excellent friends, one particularly learned. Coming with us will save you a lot of time exploring. It wouldn't be a bad idea, would it?"
Dana considered for a few seconds. "Why are you so insistent on me joining you?"
Gryffindor explained. "Recently, the Church has intensified efforts to capture underage wizards. Many children who have experienced magical outbursts have been taken. Although you seem close to adulthood, you haven't fully matured. Alone, you might be captured. Our wizard population is already small; if we can save even one, we will."
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