Chapter 06 - The Young Heir of House Black

The silence hung in the air, both exchanging a gaze in complete quietness. 

Arcturus was the first to break the silence between them. "So, how do you know you're Regulus' son?" His penetrating gaze fixed on the boy's eyes. 

Besides the boy knowing who his father was, there was something Arcturus had overlooked in his happiness at having an heir. He wanted to know how Asterion would know how to summon the house-elf, Kreacher, something that, in the wizarding world, could be considered common but not for a nine-year-old living in a Muggle orphanage.

"I'd prefer to refrain from answering that question," was the only thing Asterion said. A tense and penetrating gaze continued between the two until Arcturus, sighing, admitted, "Very well, everyone has their secrets, Asterion. I won't question yours."

As he said this, the tense atmosphere naturally dissipated.

"Pack your belongings, Asterion. We're going to the Black Manor," Arcturus said, getting up from the bed. He headed towards the door, but before leaving, he threw in one last remark: "By the way, control the killer intent of the cursed spirit in your shadow. It's giving away your location."

After that, he left the room without waiting for his great-grandson's response.

"Baskerville, if you think about killing my great-grandfather again, I'll remove you and place Nidhogg in my shadow." Looking at his own shadow where hundreds of pairs of red eyes opened, Asterion didn't hesitate to threaten the Hellhound, depriving it of the thing it valued most in the world – being his guardian. 

Asterion's shadow rippled gently, showing its submission to him. Asterion snorted, walked to the bed, and crouched down. He reached under the bed and pulled out a suitcase. Not long after, he began to gather everything that was his in this room, which wasn't much to begin with.

Looking at his room that had sheltered him for so many years, Asterion contemplated for a moment and then left the room, carrying his suitcase.

-

Outside the orphanage, Asterion could be seen bidding farewell to the orphanage head and the other Sisters who had cared for him since his birth in this world. No other child came to say goodbye, not that it mattered to Asterion; he had already helped those ungrateful and heartless children enough. 

Although he claimed to have taken everything in the room, he had left all the cursed spirits protecting the place from any threat.

Before leaving, Isabell Morgan gave a disdainful look to Arcturus, who generously chose to ignore the woman's anger. Over almost ninety years, he had learned that the only way to win an argument with a woman was to ignore her outright.

"Let's go." Holding Asterion's shoulder, Arcturus spoke as they walked forward. Asterion didn't speak and just looked at the women gradually disappearing from his sight with a bitter feeling in his chest until he couldn't even see the orphanage or those kind women anymore.

"Don't vomit," Arcturus said, drawing the attention of his great-grandson, still saddened by the departure. 

Asterion looked confused at Arcturus and soon noticed they were in an alley. Suddenly, with a loud snap, the world in his view began to spin wildly in all directions. He felt as if he were being squeezed through an endless, tiny tube that seemed to have no end.

-

London – Grimmauld Place, No. 12.

Ancestral Manor of the House of Black.

When his feet touched the ground again, Asterion felt his organs shifting in different directions. A strong urge to vomit grew in his chest, and it seemed like he might throw up his afternoon snack at any moment. Fortunately, he took a deep breath and gradually calmed himself.

Asterion lifted his head and glared at the old man with fury. 

"I'll have my revenge, just wait, old dead man!" Asterion spoke each word through gritted teeth. Arcturus simply laughed at his great-grandson's misery and walked toward the beautiful mansion.

It was then that Asterion looked at the stunning mansion with a surprised expression on his face.

The Black family mansion, situated on Grimmauld Place, stood as a monument to grandeur and mystery. The facade was a striking expression of Victorian-era Gothic architecture, with tall towers reaching up into the night sky. The dark stone from which it was built was adorned with intricate silver details that captured the moonlight, creating reflections that danced upon the walls. The main entrance was marked by a massive oak door, skillfully carved with magical symbols that seemed to pulse with their own energy.

The gardens surrounding the mansion were meticulously maintained, with trimmed shrubs and flower beds of darker tones blooming in mysterious colors. A magical fountain, sculpted with details that told stories of ancient magic, rested in the center of the garden, emitting a soft light that illuminated the dark nights.

It was entirely different from the mansion described in the movies and books, but upon reflection, in the original reality, after the death of Walburga Black in 1985, the mansion went decades without being cared for. 

It was natural that the mansion was in perfect condition with Arcturus living in it; after all, it was where he resided, and no one would want to live in a dirty and crumbling place.

Entering the entrance hall, what caught Asterion's attention wasn't how luxurious the place was, nor the chandelier made of crystals exuding a soft light that illuminated the surroundings, nor the soft black carpet that made you feel like you were stepping on clouds, but an intricate statue on the wall facing the door.

It was the statue of a man, wearing a classic wizard's robe. He looked handsome, or at least the artist who made it intended him to be so, but what caught attention the most were the statue's eyes—they were red. Upon closer inspection, one could see that they were two extremely bright rubies. The statue's eyes seemed to judge anyone entering through the massive oak doors of the Black Mansion.

Asterion couldn't help but narrow his eyes thoughtfully, feeling the colossal negative magical energy emanating from the statue. It was the first time he truly felt the power of the Special-Grade. It was oppressive, powerful, and terribly malevolent.

Noticing Asterion's tension, Arcturus explained with a sense of pride in his voice, "It's the cursed spirit that our ancestor, Corvinus Black, captured near the end of his life. The statue serves as a seal, imprisoning the monster within. This is also the last line of defense for the mansion, which would only be activated when the Black Mansion is destroyed, taking us and our enemies together to hell."

Asterion had only one thought in his mind. 

'I hope it's not Sukuna or Mahoraga.'

Translated by AI.

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Author's Thoughts: Are any of you playing Palworld?

The game in my country has already become a complete success, but for other reasons, HAHAHAHAHA!

For us in Brazil, Pal is a synonym for penis, so when the first sentence an NPC says is [You don't smell like Pal], you start laughing like crazy!!!

I sound like a twelve year old kid laughing at jokes about vaginas or penises...