Chapter 53: The Phantom Hall

Inside the bronze doors, a chilling scene unfolded.

The first thing to catch the eye was four nearly rotted, brown long tables, arranged in a manner reminiscent of the Hogwarts Great Hall. Black candles crowded the surfaces, casting a shadowy glow. The gray platters of food were all either spoiled or moldy, exuding a foul stench.

At the front of the hall stood a stage, where a band played a peculiar tune on strange instruments. Thanks to Helena’s introduction, Steven learned the instrument was called a musical saw, typically played with a bow, capable of producing a uniquely ethereal sound.

Steven thought the music was indeed ethereal—perhaps a little too much so, as it strained the ear.

At this moment, a troupe of ghosts was performing an impressive act to the music. Each member had a missing head and a sturdy ghostly horse. Mounted atop their steeds, they continuously tossed their own heads into the air, which would be caught and hurled again by the teammate behind, circling the stage in this macabre relay.

The ghosts in the audience cheered them on with great enthusiasm.

After several rounds, the troupe abruptly halted, splitting into two teams. The poor house-elf waiters, ever alert, quickly brought out two hoops, erecting them on either side of the stage.

The two teams, astride their horses, used long-handled poles to strike their heads through the opposing team’s hoop. Audience ghosts spontaneously kept score, delighting in the spectacle.

Steven watched with interest, thinking this activity was not unlike the ancient game of Cuju he’d once heard about, except the ball was a head, and the players’ necks were empty…

“Doctor Strange, Miss Grey, it's been so long since I've seen you both!” A warm voice called out.

Steven turned to see a ghost floating over, clad in a tight-fitting shirt and an enormous wheel-shaped ruff.

“Hi, Sir Nicholas, long time no see!” Steven greeted him.

“Hello, Nicholas,” Helena nodded to the venerable spirit.

“What have you been up to lately? Haven’t seen you around,” Nicholas floated beside Steven, patting his shoulder.

“Nothing much, really—just been locked up,” Steven replied candidly, for he’d already noticed the Bloody Baron was also in the hall.

“What happened?” Nicholas frowned, asking.

“I’m suspected of involvement in the destruction of the castle’s magical node,” Steven shrugged, feigning innocence. “But honestly, I don't even know what a magical node is.”

“So you’ve been locked up for two months?” Nicholas raised his head in astonishment, utterly shocked.

And then his head promptly fell off...

Steven: “…”

Nicholas, unfazed, picked up his tilted head and set it back on his neck.

“Sorry, Strange, that was just an accident,” he adjusted his head, troubled. “Never thought such a huge collar wouldn’t help.”

Steven’s lips twitched, and he joked, “Perhaps you could try a larger, closed ruff.”

Nicholas actually considered the suggestion seriously and nodded solemnly.

At that moment, the Bloody Baron, his face forbidding, approached.

Gaunt, eyes fixed and wild, his body smeared with silvery blood, the Baron’s presence cleared a wide space as other ghosts retreated.

“How dare you, the castle’s destroyer, show yourself?” the Baron demanded fiercely.

Steven was not about to indulge the Baron’s foul temper and retorted immediately, “Then I suggest you go to the Headmaster’s office on the eighth floor and question the person who decided to let me out.”

Their gazes clashed, neither conceding an inch.

“Fight! Fight! The worst Baron and the annoying Strange are going to fight! Let the celebration begin!”

A shrill, grating voice echoed through the hall.

The tense standoff was broken. Steven turned, exasperated, to see a small man with wicked black eyes and a gaping mouth.

The Baron, humiliated and furious, roared, “Peeves, if you don’t want to die, get lost!”

Peeves clearly feared the Baron; he shuddered at the command and sped away.

With Peeves’ interruption, Steven lost interest in clashing with the Baron and pulled Helena along, ready to explore other parts of the hall. After finally getting out, why let a madman spoil his mood?

“Wait!” But the Bloody Baron was not prepared to let him leave.

“Is there anything else you wish to say, Mr. Baron?” Steven turned, his voice cold.

Helena also turned, her tone icy, “Baron, don’t overstep your bounds.”

The Baron’s expression faltered at Helena’s words, but he stubbornly stood his ground and declared, “I don’t know what trickery you used to deceive Helena, but I won’t allow you to harm her any further. I’ll personally see you out of this castle!”

“Baron!” Helena’s anger flared instantly. “Let me say it again—Stephen did not deceive or harm me! What passes between us is none of your business!”

Steven squeezed Helena’s hand, equally frustrated, glaring at the Baron, “Is this never-ending? If you have anything to show, do it quickly—I’m pressed for time!”

The Bloody Baron hesitated no more, drawing a blood-stained scimitar from his waist.

“You plan to physically kill me?” Steven laughed at the sight of the blade.

“I can’t kill you, but I can at least weaken you for a while. That’s enough!” the Baron snarled, charging at Steven.

Nicholas, alarmed, tried to intervene but was shoved aside. Other ghosts, cowed by the Baron, dared not approach. The headless hunters’ leader looked ready to help, but was too far away.

Helena resolutely stepped in front of Steven.

Steven suddenly chuckled, pulling Helena behind him. “Sit back and enjoy the show—I’ll handle this quickly.”

He faced the Baron head-on.

The Baron’s blade was sharp, imbued with a chilling energy that seemed capable of harming ghosts.

As the Baron slashed, Steven instinctively dodged sideways, forgetting his ghostly form. Fighting in the air was nothing like combat on the ground—he misjudged the reach of the Baron’s blade and overestimated his own agility.

The blade struck Steven’s left shoulder, causing his form to waver for a moment.

“Stephen!” Helena cried, about to rush forward.

“Stay back, I’m fine!”

Steven raised his hand, stopping Helena. He looked at the Baron, catching his breath and steadying his mind, recently shaken.

It seemed the Baron possessed a power other ghosts lacked—his blade truly drained others’ vitality. It was a terrifying ability, a perfect counter to ghosts.

…