Chapter 113 Fairy Tale Town
Second, follow the narration and prompts.
"Third, once you receive a task, you must complete it."
"Customer Service Notice: The Trial Space aims to provide players with in-depth role-playing services. When you step into this space, you sign a player service contract with the Trial Space, confirming your unconditional compliance with the rules of this space. Violation of any of the three rules will result in penalties. This is a necessary condition for in-depth role-playing. Thank you for your understanding!"
What is it?
Harry stared blankly at the inscription on the stone tablet, his mind unable to process what the Trial Space was. What was deep role-playing service?
Didn't I follow Quirrell into the entrance room?
Where did Quirrell go? What about Hermione and Ron?
Many questions bombarded Harry's mind. He stopped paying attention to the stone tablet and shouted Hermione and Ron's names loudly towards the magnificent hall ahead.
But all that answered him was the echo reflected from the empty hall.
Just then, a new line of writing on the stone tablet lit up, and a bewildered Harry instinctively looked over:
"Player Quirinus Quirrell has violated Rule 1 by using magic without authorization and will be punished!"
"Punishment method: Electric shock!"
"Punishment complete."
Quirrell?
Upon seeing the familiar name, Harry disregarded his feud with Quirrell and rushed to the stone tablet for a closer look.
Only then did he notice that there was a line of small characters at the very bottom of the stone tablet, which clearly read:
Current number of players: 4
"Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, Quirinas Quirrell!"
"Deep role-playing scenario matching in progress..."
"Please tap [Yes] below your name to confirm the match."
What is matching?
Harry was filled with confusion. He looked at the small [Yes/No] option below his name and hesitated for a moment.
What happens if I select [No]?
He doesn't want to play this deep role-playing game; he really wants to choose [No]!
Just as he hesitated, new words lit up on the upper part of the stone tablet:
"Player Ron Weasley refused to be matched, disobeyed the prompt, violated Rule 2, and will be punished!"
"Punishment method: Electric shock!"
"Punishment complete!"
Harry: "..."
After seeing the punishment announcements refreshed twice, Harry began to understand that Hermione, Ron, and Quirrell were probably being thrown into a golden hall, facing the same stone tablet, just like him.
The lobby seems to have no other function or mission than to take these "players" to some deep role-playing scenario, and this cannot be violated or refused.
What kind of unfair contract is this?
Harry looked up and looked again at the seemingly simple three rules, as well as the respectfully written customer service instructions below.
"...Stepping into this place signifies signing a player service contract with the trial space, confirming unconditional compliance with the rules of this space... This seemingly respectful but actually very domineering style...it feels so familiar..."
Harry inexplicably thought of Vaughn.
Just as he was lost in thought, Hermione's name lit up in the line of names displayed at the bottom of the stone tablet, and soon Quirrell's name lit up as well.
Although the stone tablet didn't give any indication, Harry intuitively felt that Hermione and Quirrell had touched [Yes] and confirmed their match.
"A forced contract, which cannot be violated or refused... It seems there really is no other way but to experience those deep role-playing scenarios!"
Harry scratched his head. Learning from Ron's experience, he felt it was better to follow Hermione's lead.
I carefully reached out and touched the [Yes] sign below my name. I didn't feel anything when I touched it, only the cool touch of the stone surface.
But as soon as he finished touching it, Harry saw his name immediately light up.
His guess was right!
"What's next?"
Kneeling before the stone tablet, Harry stared intently at it, waiting for about several tens of seconds until Ron's name lit up. Then, on the upper part of the tablet, lines of text appeared like a waterfall:
"All players confirm matchmaking"
Scene selection complete: Fairy Tale Town
Story Template: Dragon Quest
"Grouping now...Grouping complete!"
Group A: Harry Potter, Hermione Granger
Group B: Ron Weasley, Quirinas Quirrell
"Thank you all for your trust and support of this space. We wish you a pleasant gaming experience!"
As the last line of text appeared, the entire golden hall suddenly trembled.
The floorboards were cracking, rising, and sinking, like undulating waves.
Harry scrambled to his feet, stumbling and grabbing for support against the only immovable stone tablet in the entire hall, staring dumbfounded at the dramatic change unfolding before him—
The hall is collapsing!
The floor, walls, dome... everything was crumbling into tiny cubes, like golden quicksand leaking into the dark void left after the hall collapsed.
Then, they began to recombine.
Countless small cubes converged into a torrent, like paintbrushes applying colors, and the brown earth quickly formed under the "paintbrush," soon extending to Harry's feet.
Then, the ground turned over, revealing jagged green patches that piled up in layers, forming a "grassland" that emerged one after another.
In the distance, countless "trees" that looked like they were cut from cardboard suddenly stood up and transformed into a forest.
In the heart of the forest, a town of the same style quietly appeared. It was as if it had been stretched from a flat surface, with waterwheels, mills, wooden houses, small buildings, streets and castles rising up one after another.
Above, a patch of blue sky dotted with white clouds unfolds from its folded state, and a radiant "sun" rises from the backdrop of sharply defined mountains, gliding to the center of the blue sky and freezing in place.
A gentle yet grand voice, throughout this entire "world," began to narrate in Harry's ear:
"Long, long ago, in the Forest Kingdom, there lived a kind and beautiful princess. Her parents loved her, and her people adored her. But one stormy night..."
Click—
Harry looked up and saw that, as the narrator spoke, the sky turned pitch black, and lightning danced wildly across the sky like snakes. At the same time, a huge shadow flew from the horizon to the town in the forest, and then to the castle.
"...The evil dragon came, and it abducted the people's beloved princess, saying:"
The gentle narration abruptly shifted to a savage roar. In the distant town castle, a colossal shadow flapped its wings, opened its crimson, moon-like eyes, and "spoke" a line of words:
[Forest Kingdom, your princess is in my hands. If you want her to live, please the great fire dragon with gold and treasure! Hahaha—]
Yes, that's right, the dragon's words were a single line!
Harry was at a loss for what expression to make!
But the narration clearly wouldn't pause because of his astonishment:
"To rescue the princess, the king and all the people have offered a bounty on brave warriors, and you, as one of these warriors, are heading to the Forest Kingdom with your companions!"
companion?
Harry turned around and was surprised to find Hermione, who had disappeared earlier, standing right next to him!
Meanwhile, on the other side of the "mountains".
Ron, sporting an afro, stared wide-eyed at Quirrell, who had suddenly appeared beside him with the same afro.
"you..."
"Shut up, Weasley!"
Quirrell's face was ashen, the sharp pain in the back of his head making him look ferocious; it was his master punishing him and venting his anger.
The faint, venomous hissing echoed in his ears and deep within his soul:
"Damn Dumbledore...damn it...no one can humiliate the Dark Lord like this...I will kill him! Kill him!"
"Ah... I'm sorry, Master—"
Quirrell curled up, clutching his head, sobbing, weeping, and pleading: "Please be patient, my master. Once we have the Philosopher's Stone and resurrect you, your lowly servant will follow you to kill that despicable Dumbledore. But for now, please be patient..."
Perhaps he accepted his advice, or perhaps he had been deprived of vitality for a long time and was becoming increasingly weak, the voice gradually faded in his mind and ears.
The excruciating pain then disappeared.
As Quiro, panting, looked up again, the sky's "narration" was coming to an end: "...And you, as a member of the Dragon's kin, will go to the lair with your companions to intercept the heroes!"
nest...
Quirrell looked ahead at the dark fairytale-style "forest," where the cardboard-like trees were pitch black and menacing. A village with a similarly distorted style stood deep in the forest, filled with "monsters" that slid back and forth like bookmarks on a book.
He stared blankly for a moment, then looked at Ron, who was hiding to the side, seemingly trying to make himself inconspicuous, and his face darkened:
"Weasley, why are you, Harry, and Granger here?"
Ron's mouth tasted bitter; he never imagined he would be grouped with Quirrell.
However, despite his prior fear, he was no longer afraid when he actually faced Quirrell. When Quirrell asked him a question, he snorted, "What business is it of yours why we're here? If you can come in, why can't we?"
The rules of the stone tablet gave him immense courage. Having personally experienced the pain of electric shock punishment, Ron didn't believe Quirrell would dare to break the rules again.
Quirrell's expression grew increasingly grim, but he forced himself to remain composed. Rule Two clearly stated that one should follow the narration and prompts.
At this moment, Ron had a frame above his head that read "Companions (Do not attack each other)"...
Taking a deep breath, Quirrell suppressed his murderous urge. For him right now, leaving this ridiculous role-playing scenario and finding the Philosopher's Stone was the most important thing.
Everything else is negotiable.
Thinking it over, Quirrell forced a smile: "If you don't want to say, that's fine. Anyway, we're on the same side now, and I think we should cooperate. You remember? The rules require us to follow the narration and hints. Now, we have to get to the monster's lair over there!"
Ron was reluctant, but he had to admit that Quirrell was right.
Recalling the pain he felt not long ago when he accidentally broke the rules and was struck on the head by a bolt of lightning, his limbs twitching and even his magic power becoming chaotic and conflicting, Ron shuddered and nodded quickly.
So, the two men, who were enemies not long ago, reluctantly put aside their grudges and, following the narration, walked one after the other toward the nest in the forest.
As they approached the lair, the narration began again:
"You have come to the lair, ready to shed your blood for your master. Your master, the great evil dragon, is sending a shipment of brandy to the front lines. It can enhance the power of his dragon breath. The lizard squad leader has entrusted you with this glorious mission."
Swish—
A lizard squad leader, who didn't look like a lizard at all, zipped up to the two of them, dragging a unicycle print, and popped a string of speech bubbles out of his mouth:
[You despicable villains, hurry up and deliver the brandy! Don't delay your master's important business!]
[Beware! Some monsters in the forest are also eyeing these supplies. You must protect them, or you will face your master's wrath!]
[I suggest you consult with hippos, lions, and hyenas before you set off. Only one of them is a truly experienced guide. Once you can identify them, they will show you a safe path...]
Quirrell and Ron looked at each other in bewilderment.
"what to do?"
"...Let's find the hippopotamus, lion, and hyena first."
So the two of them wandered around the small village and found that it wasn't hard to find. The characters needed for the mission, like Quirrell and Ron, all had a box above their heads with their names written on it.
When they found all three monsters, the narrator appeared again:
"To ensure the safe transport of the brandy, you found three monsters. When asked who the real guide was, the three monsters denied it, with the hippopotamus saying, 'The hyena is the guide.'"
"Ron Weasley, a member of the Dragon's Lair, quickly locked onto his target, but to test his companion, he didn't reveal the answer. Instead, he remarked, 'Of the three monsters, only the true guide wasn't lying.'"
"Question: Which of them is the guide?"
"..."
Quirrell looked at Ron, who was completely bewildered.
"...Would you believe me if I said I didn't know and the narrator was just making things up?"
"I believe you! Because you don't seem like the kind of person who has that kind of brain, Weasley."
Ron felt offended but dared not say anything, only humming twice: "So, did you guess the answer?"
"certainly!"
Quirrell said decisively, his face as pale as paper, revealing no emotion, but the bulging veins on his forehead showed that he was not as confident as he appeared.
Damn Muggle logic puzzles!
After a moment's thought, Quirrell said in a deep voice, "The real guide is the hyena!"
As his voice faded, the narrator continued: "You chose a hyena as your guide, and it showed you the way. But soon after you set off, a group of forest monsters rushed out and looted the brandy you were transporting. The mission failed!"
"You have violated Rule 3, triggering a penalty."
"Punishment method: Electric shock!"
Before the two could react, a loud crack echoed in the sky, and lightning crashed down.
It wasn't a natural electric current; it was more like some kind of magic. It shone with a dazzling silver-blue hue and struck Ron and Quirrell violently on the head.
Powerful magic instantly flowed through their bodies, and the muscle spasms and magical chaos they had experienced before returned, with pain overwhelming every nerve in their bodies like a tidal wave.
The two men collapsed with their hair disheveled, and it took them a while to sit up shakily.
Ron coughed, exhaling a puff of white smoke, and complained, "It feels like it hurts even more than last time... Hey, didn't you say you guessed the answer?"
"Shut up, Weasley!"
Ron wasn't afraid of him at all, since he didn't dare use magic and was too weak: "I thought you were something special, but it turns out you were just bragging. No wonder everyone at school looks down on you; they weren't wrong."
Quirrell's hands trembled as he hesitated whether to draw his wand and unleash a curse to kill the annoying redhead.
But he didn't dare.
Weasley's intuition was right; the power of the Punishing Lightning was indeed growing stronger. Although it hadn't caused any physical damage yet, he wasn't sure how much its power would increase if it continued.
Just as I was hesitating, that even more annoying narration started again:
"Punishment complete!"
"The familiar route continues... The mission has failed. The great fire dragon's favorite brandy has been stolen. As familiars, you will now bear its wrath!"
"?"
The two, who had been at loggerheads just moments before, exchanged a glance and then looked around.
Is this a hint for the next task?
"Probably," Quirrell pondered. "The so-called wrath of the fire dragon might mean that our upcoming mission will become more difficult."
Ron, ever the contrarian, retorted, "Why is it a metaphor? Why can't it be a real fire dragon appearing before us and breathing fire at us?"
Quirrell said impatiently, "You idiot Weasley, don't you understand yet? There are no real monsters in this scenario. It's like a pop-up novel about Muggle society, a kind of board game. The danger only exists in the narration. All our actions must follow the narration, analyze the clues to complete the task, get rewards for success, and accept punishment for failure. There are no dragons..."
Before he could finish speaking...
call--
call--
The sound of enormous wings flapping rapidly approached from high above. Quirrell and Ron looked up in astonishment and saw a fire dragon descending from the sky amidst the crayon-like blue sky and white clouds!
Yes, a real fire dragon!
When they saw it, the fire dragon's gaping maw was already open, and dark red flames flickered a few times before it spewed them out!
...
Meanwhile, Harry and Hermione, who had arrived in the "Forest Kingdom," encountered the same problem.
Looking at the words written in the speech bubbles above the heads of the three cardboard cutouts named "Hippopotamus," "Lion," and "Hyena," Harry felt a headache coming on.
What is all this about?
In his eyes, this problem was incoherent and impossible to solve!
He couldn't help but feel a little discouraged.
Since meeting Hermione, the two exchanged information about what they knew and analyzed that this so-called trial space was very likely a mechanism designed by Dumbledore to guard the Philosopher's Stone.
Only by clearing the level can you have any hope of getting the magic stone.
According to Hermione, this is a bit like a Muggle computer game level, where the first level is usually the easiest.
Harry hadn't expected that he would fail so miserably in the first challenge, like an idiot.
Who on earth designed this awful question?
Is this a question that a human could answer?
Just as Harry was going through a cycle of doubt and self-doubt, Hermione paused for a moment and suddenly said, "I have the answer."
"Huh?" Harry, who was still holding his head, was taken aback.
Hermione explained, "The answer to this question is simple. The key is in what the hippo said: 'The hyenas are the guides!'"
"Here we can use the assumption method. First, the question states that only the guide among the three is not lying. Let's assume that the hippopotamus is the guide, then what he said is true. If the hyena is the guide, then there are two guides, which does not fit the question."
"If the hyena is the guide, then everyone else is lying, including the hippopotamus. The hyena is not the guide, which contradicts the assumption that the hyena is the guide, so it is not valid."
"If we exclude hippos and hyenas, then the final conclusion is obvious: lions are the true guides!"
Harry didn't understand, but he was deeply shocked!
Soon, the two heard a voice in their ears: "You chose the lion as your guide, and he showed you the way. You delivered the fire retardant to the front line safely all the way."
"With the help of the fire-retardant potion, you and the other heroes joined forces and successfully stormed the lair of the dragon's family. Because of the lack of brandy, the fire dragon did not come to support you. You successfully destroyed the lair and got one step closer to the fire dragon's castle!"
"Fairy Tale Town is over, now it's time to settle accounts."
"Ron Weasley, Quirinas Quirrell, mission failed, punishment received, reward: none."
"Harry Potter and Hermione Granger, mission successful! Reward: Wishing Brush"
"Currently, the Brave Group leads the standings 1-0!"
"But heroes, this is only a temporary victory. The princess, kidnapped by the dragon, still awaits your rescue ahead, in that castle in the painting—"
As the narration began, the scene before us collapsed once more. The cardboard-like town, forest, and mountains transformed back into countless small cubes, sliding down like quicksand.
Harry and Hermione floated in a dark void, looking down at the small cubes that were reassembling into a giant scroll.
It gradually unfolds in the boundless void, seemingly spanning heaven and earth. As the canvas, like the earth, undulates gently, a castle appears within it.
The moment the castle appeared, Harry and Hermione were irresistibly drawn into it.
...
At the very top of the entire trial space, Vaughn and Dumbledore observed the progress below.
From their perspective, the so-called fairytale town is actually a giant pop-up book. As the pages turn, grasslands emerge, forests rise, mountains stand tall, and the sun and moon revolve.
That was magic, and a miracle of alchemy!
"Before this, I never imagined that you had such a childlike side, Vaughn."
Dumbledore said jokingly.
Vaughn ignored his teasing, his eyes gleaming as he carefully observed the scene below: the fairytale town collapsing and then reforming into the castle in the painting.
After a long pause, he said, "I chose fairy tales because they are simple and don't have overly complicated plots or story logic. Essentially, I'm just proposing an experimental idea to see if you, or alchemy, can do it."
"So, are you satisfied with the results?"
"Quite satisfied!" Vaughn said. "Although it's still far from my final vision, it at least gave me a direction, including the castle in the painting… A book, a painting, is a world in itself. Alchemy's study and mastery of space and dimensions is truly amazing!"
Dumbledore looked at him and asked with a smile, "Would you like to go in and experience it? You've never been inside since the level was designed."
"Of course we should go in."
Vaughn did not refuse, he said.
The following content can only be fully appreciated by entering the "painting" itself; otherwise, due to time constraints, everything might end inexplicably.
However, he also had requirements.
Vaughn glanced at Dumbledore: "You must transfer control of the 'painting' to me, especially the right to make the rules!"
Whether it's a fairytale town or a castle in a painting, both utilize an ancient magic mastered by Dumbledore, which is also the oldest magic passed down from Hogwarts.
A type of contract magic.
Its origins can be traced back to the time when the four founders created Hogwarts. Using alchemy, they crafted this contract magic into two alchemical artifacts—the Pen of Acceptance and the Book of Admission.
As the name suggests, the function of contract magic is to establish agreements.
This type of magic is not uncommon in modern spell systems; spells like the Unbreakable Spell and the Unyielding Spell are examples.
However, ancient magic still has its merits.
For example, the ancient magic used by Dumbledore may be slightly inferior to Unbreakable and Unwavering Loyalty in terms of true secrecy and binding force of contracts, but it retains the advantage of the powerful "strength" of ancient magic.
The Pen of Acceptance and the Book of Access are prime examples; these two alchemical artifacts can "monitor" the entire British Isles!
Under their surveillance, the birth of any human with magical abilities within England will immediately result in a contract, with the "agreement" pen writing their name on the Book of Admission, and they have no right to refuse.
Yes, as long as it possesses magic, even a Squib (in the original work, Squibs do possess magic), it will be recorded—of course, in reality, the Book of Admission is quite strict; every time a Squib is detected, it will automatically close, and the Pen of Rejection will record the Squib's name.
"It's a pity that Old Deng has been hiding those two good things from me..." Vaughn's thoughts wandered a bit. The Pen of Acceptance and the Book of Access were the alchemical artifacts with the widest magical coverage that he knew of so far.
However, he also understood Dumbledore's caution. Those two alchemical artifacts were essentially a database of citizen information for Muggle society, recording all English wizards, so they couldn't just be taken out casually.
The fairytale town and the castle in the painting also use the same magic; anyone who enters will automatically sign a contract, agreeing to abide by the "rules".
As for what the "rules" are... well, they're whatever Old Deng, who created them, wants to add.
If we don't demand control, who knows if Deng might add some strange rules after Vaughn goes in?
Dumbledore's face fell. "You don't trust me?"
Vaughn smiled and replied in a friendly manner, "I might trust anyone else, but you are the one person I trust the least bit."
"..."
Old Deng choked for a moment, then mumbled something under his breath and waved downwards.
Soon, a scroll emerged from the vast, plain-like canvas below and flew into his hand. The scroll looked ordinary, without any supernatural features.
But to Vaughn and Dumbledore, it was as bright and dazzling as the sun!
Literally bright and dazzling.
Vaughn's eyes gleamed with a magical light. With the help of his alchemical talent, he saw that the scroll was made up of countless densely packed runes. They were so numerous and so tightly packed that the runes almost merged into one, and even the light was connected.
"This is the painting itself, and also the key to controlling it…" Dumbledore handed the scroll to Vaughn, paused, and suddenly felt very awkward, because he had also considered the issues that Vaughn had considered.
What if Vaughn adds some strange or unusual rules after we get inside...?
Vaughn saw through his thoughts and glanced at him sideways: "What about the spell to control it? Don't you trust me?"
"...To be honest, I don't really trust him..."
"..."
The old man and the young man stared at each other for a moment, then both chose to ignore the awkward question.
"Ahem, Harry and Quirinas have already gone inside."
"Okay, let's go in too..."
Dumbledore raised his arm, gesturing for Vaughn to grab it. "I must say, Vaughn, the castle in the painting will absolutely amaze you. It's built exactly according to your concept of virtual reality, though of course, it's not quite the same as virtual reality."
"I later specifically looked into it. The so-called virtual reality of Muggles is more like weaving illusions in one's mind. Magic disdains to create things that are essentially false because it's too simple. We can use alchemy to make the false become real!"
As he spoke, Vaughn grasped Dumbledore's hand, and Dumbledore slowly flew down with him.
As the two approached the vast canvas below, it was almost an illusion. As the distance closed, Vaughn felt that the canvas stretched out into an ever-expanding expanse. In the blink of an eye, the flat canvas seemed to stretch to the horizon, with no end in sight.
Then, in a single instant, everything before my eyes changed.
The deep darkness overhead and the ancient walls of Hogwarts Castle suddenly disappeared, and the blue sky and white clouds were reflected in the sky. Underfoot was a winding path that rose and fell along the hills and stretched to the foot of the distant mountains, where it merged into a town.
The path cuts through the town, into the forest further in the distance, and deep within the forest, to a castle whose outline can only be vaguely seen!
Dumbledore released his grip, smiling at him: "My dear, welcome to the world of the painting!"
Yes, they have entered the painting.
but...
Vaughn stretched out his hand, feeling the gentle breeze brushing against his fingers, the softness of the air, and smelling the complex scents of the mountains and forests, a mixture of soil, dew, flowers, and even the rising moisture from the sun-baked earth.
He could even feel the sunlight shining on his body, causing a slight stinging sensation on his skin!
Magical paintings are common in the wizarding world; the Weasleys have them, and Hogwarts has them hanging in every corridor. Vaughn had studied them before.
Although I didn't understand alchemy at the time and couldn't figure it out, I did know that magic paintings, like photographs coated with developing potion, were just moving "paintings" and were essentially fake.
The mountains, water, flowers, trees and plants in the painting are just combinations of paint according to certain rules. Only the figures in portrait paintings can be given certain memories and personalities, and express "free will".
Before looking at this painting, Vaughn originally thought that the castle in the painting might be like a fairy tale town, only extended in space and dimension.
But what he was experiencing now was far beyond his expectations.
It feels like... Dumbledore captured a part of reality and put it into a painting!
Thinking about it, he couldn't help but look towards the town at the foot of the mountain, from where he could see many people active in the town.
Could it be that place too...?
The thought had barely crossed Vaughn's mind when he heard Dumbledore sigh, "Unfortunately, it's still not perfect. I can't create humans and other creatures, so I have to retain some false elements."
"Then, who are the people in this town...?"
"Oh, they're all puppets." Dumbledore shook his head, then quickly cheered up again: "Thanks to Minerva and Felius, they contributed their finest Transfiguration and Charms skills…"
Chapter 114 The True Value of the Greatest White Wizard of This Century
What should we do now?
Harry squatted blankly by the bridge outside town, his fingers unconsciously tracing patterns in the stream.
The cool touch of the stream flowing through his fingers sent a shiver down his spine. A gentle breeze blew by, carrying a damp, refreshing coolness from the stream, which seemed to instantly dispel the heat brought by the scorching sun above.
But none of that could alleviate Harry's inner turmoil and confusion.
Where am I now?
What am I doing?
Is all of this real?
These questions remain unanswered. In fact, after leaving the fairytale town and arriving here, he could no longer distinguish between reality and illusion.
For example, the stream in front of me, the mud under my feet, the sunlight overhead, and... the bustling, noisy town not far away.
Could it be that he was unknowingly transported out of Hogwarts by some kind of magic and arrived in some Muggle or wizarding town?
Thinking of this, Harry straightened up slightly and quietly poked half of his head out of the embankment.
Just a few dozen feet away, a vibrant scene unfolds: dirt roads extending from the bridge wind through the town, rows of low houses stand on either side, and many people walk back and forth, some chatting, others arguing loudly.
Vendors set up their stalls and shouted enthusiastically, horse-drawn carriages rumbled through the streets, and a row of dancers glided gracefully by, their heels making rhythmic sounds.
It looks like a bustling but ordinary town, the only problem is that all the "people" are carved from stone!
It was as if the statue had suddenly come to life.
Harry covered his mouth tightly to avoid making a sound and attracting the attention of the stone men. He shrank back under the bridge, his bewilderment deepening.
He didn't believe there was any place in the world where such a group of intelligent beings made of stone existed; if there were, he would have heard of it long ago.
Or Hermione would give him an answer instead of sitting blankly by the stream, turning the paintbrush over and over in her hand like a fool.
Harry could only guess that he was still at Hogwarts, still inside the mechanism guarding the Philosopher's Stone.
But how exactly was all of this achieved?
He couldn't help but look at Hermione. In the past, when he encountered something he couldn't understand, Hermione would always be the first to stand up and help him figure it out, but today, she was clearly also in shock.
Harry thought for a moment, then moved closer to Hermione and gently tugged at her sleeve.
Hermione snapped out of her daze: "Harry, what's wrong?"
"Uh, it's nothing, I just wanted to say…" Harry wasn't very good at comforting people. He felt that Hermione might be a little frustrated. She was always the most knowledgeable one in the trio, and now that she was encountering something inexplicable, she was likely to feel frustrated.
Unexpectedly, before he could finish speaking, Hermione said, "If you're asking where we are, I can tell you, we're inside a painting!"
"Huh?" Harry's eyes widened. "A drawing?"
"Yes, do you remember what the narrator said when we left the fairytale town? He said the next scene was called 'The Castle in the Painting,' and..."
With that, Hermione handed the paintbrush to Harry: "And this is proof too."
"How can a paintbrush prove this…" Harry's subconscious question was cut short as he abruptly stopped, because the moment he took the paintbrush, he saw a crooked, bubble-shaped speech bubble "pop" out of it and stand conspicuously in front of him.
[Wishing Brush: A magical brush used in the world of paintings. When you make a wish upon it with sincere faith, it can draw whatever you desire!]
[Number of uses: 3/3]
"this..."
Harry was speechless with astonishment.
He reached out to touch the dialog box, but unlike the fairytale town, his finger passed right through it, without any sense of touching anything real.
Looking again at the stream at his feet, feeling the sunlight and the breeze, his features gradually furrowed, and a throbbing pain shot through his head—a sign that his brain was starting to fail him: "Is all of this a painting?"
Hermione nodded slightly.
She understood Harry's surprise and disbelief. When she first discovered it, she couldn't believe it either. But unlike Harry, she had a vague feeling that this challenge was probably deliberately arranged by Dumbledore and Vaughn.
Whether it was the various little props that Vaughn had given him before, or the Phoenix Tears that he had entrusted Guoguo Tea to deliver before he came in.
This all indicates that Vaughn knew she, Harry, and Ron would be in trouble soon.
Combined with Dumbledore and Vaughn's sudden "loss of sanity," they were actually transferred away from Hogwarts by Snape's simple plan.
The "trouble" was probably planned in advance, and it's very likely that it originated from the two of them.
Hermione was lost in thought just now not because she was frustrated or unable to distinguish between reality and illusion. In her opinion, with Dumbledore's magical skills and Vaughn's intelligence, even the most incredible things could be created by them. She was thinking about what Dumbledore and Vaughn's intentions were.
Combining the truth she learned from the centaurs with the group assignments from the previous fairytale town, Hermione quickly figured it out—
Dumbledore and Vaughn hope that Harry and Quirrell... no, they should be said to be going up against the Dark Lord!
She couldn't understand why they would have such terrible ideas and attempts, and what troubled her even more was that she didn't know whether she should tell Harry about it.
Perhaps Dumbledore and Vaughn have some deeper meaning.
Perhaps they are testing something?
Hermione was unaware of the situation. Of course, she wouldn't doubt Dumbledore's intentions and trusted Vaughn implicitly. But Quirrell was ultimately the Dark Lord's henchman, a dangerous dark wizard, and judging from the centaur's prophecy, the Dark Lord might very well be possessing Quirrell.
Is it really okay to put such a terrible guy in the same cage as Harry?
...
Above, in a magically concealed space, Dumbledore sat leisurely on a magical flying carpet, observing with great interest Hermione's constantly changing expression below:
"Miss Granger seems to have discovered something. Was this your oversight? Preparing so many little props for her beforehand, and then sending her Fox's tears… Darling, this is not what we intended!"
Vaughn remained noncommittal to Old Deng's veiled question. His eyes gleamed with a faint magical light as he focused more on studying the world within the painting. He simply remarked, "She's always been clever. Even without my oversight, she would have noticed the problem. Besides..."
"...Your purpose isn't to test her. In your eyes, only the savior is the most important...Besides, you don't need to worry about Hermione telling Harry and ruining your plans. She's a smart girl, she'll figure it out."
Vaughn's judgment was correct.
Below, by the creek, Hermione hesitated for a moment, but ultimately did not tell Harry her guess. Instead, she leaned out from the embankment and looked around the town.
Harry stood there for a while before he finally snapped out of his shock.
Although everything before one's eyes is incredibly real, it is actually a painting, which feels unbelievable and hard to believe. However, in a world with magic, it doesn't seem unacceptable.
He peeked out cautiously, mimicking Hermione's manner, observing the town as he asked, "What should we do now? The narrator didn't give us a task this time, just told us to enter the town, find a way through, and then get to the castle... How do we get through? Are we just going to walk straight there?"
Looking out over the town, you see stone statues that mimic human behavior and express joy, anger, sorrow, and happiness.
Harry clearly saw that the two stone statues that looked like women arguing in the street suddenly started fighting, and their seemingly slender arms punched a large hole in the brick wall.
"..."
Harry felt a chill run down his spine and realized he needed to think carefully about his strategy.
He looked out over both sides of the town, where vast forests stretched as far as the eye could see. But he felt that the trees were much safer than the violent stone statues. "Hermione, shall we go around the town?"
Hermione, who had been observing silently, didn't comment on his suggestion, but instead asked, "Do you remember how I rated the last fairytale town?"
Harry paused for a moment, then replied, "You said it looks like a Muggle video game, fixed within a framework, where you go on adventures and complete levels according to game rules and clues..."
"Yes, Dumbledore and Vaughn created this place, they…"
"Wait!" Harry interrupted her, his expression one of astonishment. "Dumbledore and Vaughn created this place? Vaughn Weasley?"
"That's right, Vaughn!" Hermione paused, then continued, "I don't know how much he was involved, but what we're going through right now has very obvious Muggle video game elements, so it must have been his idea."
As she spoke, she looked at Harry: "Especially that logic puzzle from the last round, very few wizards could understand it, including Dumbledore."
Harry was speechless. Thinking about it carefully, the previous puzzle about finding a guide really didn't seem like something a wizard could come up with, or rather, it didn't seem like something a traditional wizard could come up with.
Dumbledore, along with the school's professors, were undoubtedly very traditional wizards.
Hermione continued, "You studied magic with Vaughn, so you should know him better than I do. His personality is... wicked. When you're under his control and he's dictating how you'll proceed, you'd better do as he says, otherwise..."
Otherwise what?
Hermione didn't say anything, but Harry immediately recalled the days when he was tormented by virtual personalities and couldn't help but shudder.
Looking at the forests on both sides of the town, I immediately felt that they were gloomy and terrifying, filled with an ominous atmosphere.
"Well then, let's follow the narrator's instructions and walk through the town..."
Before he could finish speaking, Harry heard a cracking sound from the sky.
A violent flash of lightning illuminated the sky and earth in a vast expanse of white. Thick bolts of lightning tore through the sky, crossed the town, and struck the forest on the other side with a series of crackling sounds.
Thick smoke billowed up, and in the distance, one could almost hear screams.
"..."
Harry and Hermione exchanged glances, then suddenly remembered something and called out, "Ron!"
...
On the other side of the town, in a forest that had been bombarded by lightning and was almost charred, Ron was pale, and his freckles seemed to have become transparent.
He stood shivering between three trees emitting black smoke.
Beside him, the ground, which had been a pile of withered leaves and looked soft and fluffy just seconds before, was now just a pool of black ash, with a disheveled figure curled up and twitching in the ashes.
"I told you, I told you, I knew something was off about that question when it came out. Who but that bastard Vaughn would come up with such a weird question?"
"He must be involved in this! I told you he's wicked and domineering, but you just wouldn't believe me. The narrator told us to go into the town, but you insisted on going through the woods, you..."
"Shut up, Weasley!"
Quirrell sat up, his body convulsing.
He was furious, raising his wand as if he wanted to cast a curse the next second and kill the babbling brat in front of him.
Unfortunately, both he and Ron knew that he dared not use magic anymore.
"That was the third punishment already. If you misuse magic again, do you think you can withstand the next electric shock?"
Ron stared wide-eyed, completely unafraid, seemingly forgetting how he had nearly wet his pants when the lightning struck.
"..." After a moment of silence and panting, Quirrell put away his wand and said through gritted teeth, "Don't forget, I just saved you. If it weren't for my Fire Curse, you would have been dragged into the forest by the Devil Vines!"
"That's because I grabbed your leg. If you hadn't saved me, you would have been dragged in too."
Ron spoke with righteous indignation, and his face, which had turned pale with fright a moment earlier, regained its color.
Quirrell: "..."
He gritted his teeth and kept quiet, lest he be so angered by the redhead that he couldn't help but use his magic.
After catching his breath, Quirrell opened his small bag with his still trembling hands, took out a bottle of potion, uncorked it, and drank it down.
Soon, a tremendous life force surged forth, and the injuries to his body caused by the lightning magic were rapidly healed.
Ron, standing nearby, narrowed his eyes and secretly peered at the medicine bottle in Quirrell's hand, asking casually, "That's a potion made with unicorn blood, right?"
Quirrell glanced at him and scoffed, "You've been to the Forbidden Forest? Did you hear those stupid centaurs say I once coveted unicorn blood?"
Ron retorted stubbornly, "I don't understand what you're talking about. Can't I have figured it out myself?"
"Ha—I've taught you for a year, and I know better than you how well you and dear Harry are doing. The Savior and his henchmen… heh heh, they're nothing but two hopeless idiots!"
Ron blushed at the disdain from the former Ravenclaw academic star, but what struck him even more was the phrase "the savior and his henchmen"!
Quirrell keenly sensed his thoughts, narrowed his eyes slightly, but said nothing.
He stood up and looked at the town filled with stone statues, where he also saw the destructive power of the fight between the statues.
If he were at his peak, Quirrell would certainly not be afraid of those stone statues that only knew close combat; he had hundreds of ways to toy with them.
However, in a time when magic cannot be used casually, the existence of these stone statues has become the most troublesome problem.
After watching for a moment, Quirrell picked up a stone and threw it far into the town.
The sound of the stone hitting the ground immediately attracted the attention of the two stone statues, who walked heavily to the stone and looked down to examine it.
The next moment, he raised his fist!
Thump thump thump—
After a series of muffled thuds, the two stone statues walked away, leaving only a pile of rubble and dust in their place.
"Looks like we'll need some tricks to get in!" Quirrell's expression wasn't too good. He looked at Ron: "Weasley, what's your idea?"
"This town must be a chessboard!"
Ron replied sullenly, "Those statues look a lot like pieces from Wizard's Chess."
On the other side of the town, Harry and Hermione made a similar judgment.
Not long ago, Hermione saw lightning strike the forest and guessed that Ron was probably there. Not wanting to delay any longer, she also threw a stone into the town.
After receiving a warm welcome from the town's "residents," the two abandoned their idea of going straight in.
However, they still have some advantages compared to the other group.
"I've always felt that the layout of this town is a bit strange."
"What's the meaning?"
Hermione pondered for a moment, then said, "Look at those houses. Every single one is the same size, perfectly square, and evenly spaced... If you think of them as a grid, with the gaps between the houses and the streets as the grid lines, then..."
Before she could finish speaking, Harry understood what she meant, clapped his hands excitedly, and exclaimed, "So, this town is like a giant chessboard, and those statues are the chess pieces! Haha, no wonder they always looked familiar!"
Seeing Harry's excitement, Hermione couldn't help but pour cold water on his enthusiasm: "But we still don't know how to get in!"
"Well..."
Harry scratched his head, trying to recall his previous experience playing chess with Ron.
After a long pause, he suggested an idea: "Do you think the way to enter the town could be like playing chess?"
Hermione, whose wizard chess skills were terrible, frowned. "What do you mean?"
"What I mean is, this chessboard town might be some kind of endgame, and the most likely way for us to safely enter it is as a piece, to activate the whole game, and to keep the endgame going!"
Harry found her explanation increasingly convincing and looked at Hermione expectantly.
Hermione looked serious, but was actually bewildered.
But she wouldn't show it; she simply nodded thoughtfully and replied, "Very likely... What are you planning to do?"
Harry was even happier to receive approval: "Of course, we should first see what the endgame is, and then decide how to intervene. If Ron were here, that would be great. He's very skilled. He can deduce the whole thing even if he can't see the whole board. I can't do that. I need to see the positions of all the pieces!"
He slammed his fist in frustration, "Damn it, we forgot to bring a broom!"
Qipan Town is so big that the only way to see the whole picture is to fly up and look down from above.
Just as he was feeling frustrated, Hermione said with a strange expression, "No, we have brooms."
"Huh? You brought it?" Harry glanced at Hermione's handbag instinctively. In his memory, that handbag, which was the same style as Vaughn's, had recently started to resemble a multi-purpose bag.
Hermione rolled her eyes at him.
Her family isn't the Potters, who can fill Gringotts vaults with Galleons. As a Muggle-born wizard, Hermione can only rely on her student status to exchange a few dozen Galleons for pounds each year, which is barely enough to buy textbooks and reference books.
She doesn't have money to buy a broom.
She held up the paintbrush in her hand and shook it. "Forgot? The wishing paintbrush! We can use it to draw a broom!"
...
"Oh—the clever Miss Granger has already figured out the purpose of the reward from the previous level!"
Looking down at Dumbledore from high above, one feels like a Muggle caught up in a TV series and excitedly clapping and laughing.
"I love your design, Vaughn. The levels are interconnected, and the reward from the previous level is likely to be a power-up for the next level. There's no redundancy or waste, and it's full of fun!"
As he spoke, he asked Vaughn curiously, "These are the ideas you got from Muggle games?"
"To be precise, it's an arcade game."
Although Dumbledore was full of praise, Vaughn was not very excited because, in his opinion, it was actually quite rudimentary and far from what he had originally envisioned.
After all, this world in the painting was not created by him; it was merely an experiment!
He was more concerned with how the world worked than with observing the trials of the savior.
A deep blue light shone in Vaughn's eyes as he observed every trace of movement in the world depicted in the painting.
In his magically inspired eyes, this miracle created by alchemy was revealing its true nature—symbols everywhere!
They float in the air, hide on the earth, run through forests, and flow in streams.
Even the sun hanging in the distant sky is made up of stacked symbols.
This is the most diverse and numerous alchemical creation Vaughn has ever seen. Compared to the symbols the twins used to create the Demon-Friendly Rubber Layer, it is as insignificant as dust!
"...The sun seems to contain 29 symbols, with fire and wind as the base, representing its energy attributes and material form respectively, and 27 as variants, defining its framework, laws, and motion..."
"Air is the same. Wind is the base, and fire, water, and earth are the auxiliary elements, combining to form at least a hundred different symbols, causing air to flow as wind, bringing heat, humidity, and dust, just like reality..."
Various kinds of light were reflected in Vaughn's eyes, which he identified, confirmed, and categorized, and then recorded one by one into his memory archive and the notebook in his hand.
He was like an engineer, disassembling and analyzing a huge and sophisticated instrument, trying to figure out how it worked.
But the more he analyzed and recorded, the more shocked he became. Finally, he couldn't help but ask:
"Albus, how many symbols did you use to create this world in the painting?"
"There are 36 basic symbols and 34,272 variants," Dumbledore replied casually while watching the "plot development" below. "The number of specific symbols is even larger, probably more than 3 million."
Vaughn looked at him: "You summoned more than 3 million symbols from the ether in just over two months?"
Dumbledore turned around and smiled.
Perhaps it's Deng's eccentric and unreliable nature that makes people subconsciously overlook the terrifying strength he possesses behind his carefree and jovial demeanor.
For example, at this moment, Vaughn once again clearly realized what an alchemy master is, and what the greatest white wizard of this century is!
Of course, it would be better if he didn't say anything.
"So, are you eager to learn? If you're willing to form a blood pact with me, I might consider becoming your mentor!"
Dumbledore, as if tempting Little Red Riding Hood's wolf grandmother, said with a smile.
Upon hearing the Blood Pact, Vaughn, who had initially felt a slight stirring of interest, immediately regained his composure.
"hehe!"
A brief smile conveys both an attitude and leaves a lasting impression.
Dumbledore was actually quite pleased that Vaughn was interested in alchemy.
The longer he spent with him, the more he could feel Vaughn's terrifying talent. No matter what kind of knowledge he had, he could learn it in no time, and no matter what kind of theory or idea he had, he could grasp it immediately.
In his eyes, such intelligence and talent were almost a recipe for becoming the next White Demon King or Black Demon King.
Based on his personal ideals and aspirations, Dumbledore believed that a wizard of Vaughn's exceptional talent should spend his life immersing himself in the pursuit of truth rather than being obsessed with secular power.
The destruction caused by a master alchemist, potion master, or legendary wizard is far less than that caused by an out-of-control ambitious person.
The former's power belongs to the individual; even if magic is advanced to unimaginable heights in the future, it is impossible to destroy Muggles or wizards.
The latter is not necessarily the case. Ambitious individuals can incite divisions, instigate wars, and instill toxic values and hatred into people's hearts. Even if an ambitious individual ultimately fails, the rifts he created will continue to accumulate and be passed down in the hearts of wizards and Muggles.
Then one day, it all exploded!
So when Dumbledore realized that Vaughn had a talent for alchemy and was interested in it, he picked up the skill that had made him famous again after a long time of not making alchemical items.
When Vaughn wanted to explore the ether, he appeared, seemingly reluctant but actually very happy to take on the role of mentor.
Vaughn wanted to use the trial of Harry as an opportunity to see if alchemy could bring his ideas to life, while Dumbledore was just as busy.
What Dumbledore didn't mention was that he also used a Hogwarts treasure in order to successfully create the world in the painting.
Alchemy is based on symbols, but symbols also need corresponding substances to carry them. For example, the demon-friendly rubber layer invented by the twins also requires mithril mercury as a base.
Of course, it's impossible for Dumbledore to develop a material capable of supporting an entire "world" in just two months.
Fortunately, Hogwarts still has some heritage.
Besides the four founders, Hogwarts has nurtured countless wizards over thousands of years. Some of them like to donate their books, notes, and research findings to their alma mater—the school library, which has an extremely rich collection of books, and the terrible mountain of garbage in the Room of Requirement is just the tip of the iceberg.
Such donations typically fall into two extremes: either worthless junk or priceless treasure.
The blank of the world in the painting belongs to the latter, which came from a donation by a graduate alumnus about a hundred years ago.
The unknown alchemist was attempting to imitate an alchemical artifact belonging to Headmaster Fitzgerald—Fitzgerald was the guardian responsible for protecting the secrets of Hogwarts, and during his lifetime, he compiled the Tales of Beedle the Bard, which he had heard in his childhood, into a magic book.
Anyone who reads the words from the book will enter the world within it and undergo the trial of death.
That was the first documented alchemical artifact to construct another "world" outside of reality and the ether.
Unfortunately, for some reason, the book disappeared later, and Fitzgerald also disappeared from the painting in the principal's office.
All of this happened before Dumbledore enrolled, so he didn't know the specifics.
Dumbledore only knew that someone later tried to recreate the Book of Fitzgerald, but the progress was not smooth. He spent most of his life on the material problem—the material that could support a world and more than 3 million symbols was obviously not as "simple and cheap" as Mithril Mercury!
Until that person donated it to his alma mater before his death, the world depicted in that painting, titled "The Trial of Death," had only just begun.
Therefore, after hearing Vaughn's ideas about virtual reality, Dumbledore took out this incalculable treasure, ready to show Vaughn his skills.
But upon hearing Vaughn's ambiguous laughter, Dumbledore was somewhat disappointed.
He really wanted Vaughn to agree and sign a blood pact with him, so that he would give him his complete trust and keep his promise to teach him everything he had ever learned in his life.
Unfortunately, outstanding people always yearn for freedom and spontaneity, and abhor others interfering in their lives and choices.
Just like him in the past!
With a sigh, Dumbledore, who hadn't held out much hope to begin with, said nothing more and looked down again.
The white clouds that appeared from the movement of the symbols floated at the bottom of the magic carpet, but they did not conceal what was happening below, including the booming narration:
"The heroes and the dragons' companions have successfully entered Chessboard Town. Team A's Harry Potter and Hermione Granger have chosen the white side, while Team B's Quirrell and Ron Weasley have moved to the black side. Both sides have replaced the wargaming pieces!"
"This is a brutal battle. There is no room for negotiation or retreat; only fierce fighting. Only by killing the enemy king can we achieve final victory!"
Harry, who used the Wishing Brush to draw a flying broom and flew into the air to observe the chess game, almost simultaneously deduced the key to the endgame with Ron.
The moment the two found the key point, a spell enveloped them and teleported them into the chessboard formation, still according to their previous grouping.
Harry groggily came to his senses. The spell, similar to Apparition, had left his head in a complete mess, as if it had shaken his brain to its core. After a while, he heard someone shout, "Harry! Harry! Wake up!"
Harry patted his head, barely clearing his mind, and looked up!
What came into view made him slightly open his mouth.
At some point, the town, which used to have square houses, was completely transformed into a giant chessboard, flat and vast, stretching out in the field of vision like a plain, giving the illusion that it had no end.
Wisps of mist floated up from the black and white squares, making one feel as if they were in the clouds.
Hermione was not far from him, standing on a huge pillar, like the armor that can be seen everywhere in the corridors of Hogwarts, in a strange pose holding a sword.
That shout just now was from her, and...
Harry looked further into the distance and saw two black pillars standing one in front of the other in the heart of the Black Fence. Two familiar figures were squatting on them, one of whom, a red-haired man, kept calling his name.
"Ron...Ron!"
Harry fully regained his senses and noticed Quirrell, who was next to Ron with his head wrapped in a headscarf.
No… he's not just Quirrell, he's the Dark Lord!
"Ron, get away from him right now!"
Harry yelled to call his friend back; he wanted to run over and pull his best friend away from that dangerous guy.