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76.97% Hogwarts' White Lord / Chapter 117: 117: Soul Coffin

Chapter 117: 117: Soul Coffin

"Soul Coffin?"

Ivan thought the name sounded familiar, as though he had come across it somewhere before.

Without dwelling on it too much, he clicked on the detailed description of the task.

=====

[Soul Coffin]

Category: Main Quest (I)

Introduction: You are about to complete your first year of study at Hogwarts. To verify your learning progress, a cursed object from another world has appeared somewhere in England.

Requirement: Retrieve the Dead Souls Casket and dispel the curse.

Reward: 1 Experience Point, 1 Major Magical Customization.

=====

"Main quest huh?" Ivan muttered.

"So, the system has something like a main quest as well?"

Although it was his first time encountering such a situation, Ivan wasn't particularly nervous. Instead, he felt a sense of anticipation.

He had confidence in his abilities and wasn't afraid of any challenges or trials that might come his way.

What intrigued him most was the reward for completing the main quest.

1 Experience Point.

Experience points were crucial for increasing attributes beyond the standard limit of 5.

From what Ivan understood, 5 was the upper threshold that any wizard could naturally achieve. Even through magical enhancement, no attribute could surpass this limit—reaching 6 was theoretically impossible.

"Seven is a magical number, especially in the Harry Potter world," Ivan thought.

It could be inferred that the maximum value for an attribute in the system might be 7, aligning with the magical significance of the number.

Of course, in Ivan's opinion, the "7" represented more of a conceptual milestone than just a numerical data point.

For instance, increasing from 5 points to 6 might appear to be just one more point, but that single increment marked a fundamental transformation.

"There's no question about where to allocate this attribute," Ivan reasoned. "As a wizard, is there anything more crucial than magic?"

A wizard with 5 points in magic could already be considered a great wizard. But what heights could be reached with 6 points?

Ivan recalled Dumbledore once mentioning that his own strength, at its peak, was on par with the legendary founders of Hogwarts.

Although there was a saying in the wizarding world that "the older the stronger," every era also had its exceptional geniuses.

A wizard like Dumbledore, who could define an entire era, might not fully match the Founders of Hogwarts, but he had certainly reached their level in many respects.

They might all be within the same "realm," but Dumbledore was in the late stages, while the Founders were at the peak, on the verge of transcending to something greater.

"The twelve doors of the Department of Mysteries lead to the essence of magic," Ivan mused.

Dumbledore and Grindelwald had both pursued the mysteries of life and death, believing that mastery of the three Deathly Hallows could grant control over Death itself.

"Does becoming the Master of Death mean achieving full integration with the magic of death?" Ivan wondered.

The Elder Wand, the Invisibility Cloak, and the Resurrection Stone—simply obtaining these artifacts wasn't enough. There had to be a method to truly activate their combined potential.

But Ivan wasn't entirely sure about any of this.

After all, throughout history, no one had ever possessed all three Deathly Hallows at the same time.

"Currently, old Dumbledore should have two of the Deathly Hallows, but he hasn't obtained the Resurrection Stone," Ivan mused.

The Invisibility Cloak remained with the Potter family, and the Elder Wand had been won by Dumbledore in his legendary duel with Grindelwald.

Ivan could imagine that if the old headmaster were given the right opportunity, he might finally take that crucial step.

In the original story, Dumbledore—cursed by Voldemort's trap on the Gaunt family ring—ultimately met his end at the hands of Snape.

'Death is but the next great adventure.'

Recalling the King's Cross Station scene described in the original book, Ivan had reason to suspect that Dumbledore might have transcended his mortal limitations.

"Is this the power of the system?" Ivan thought to himself. "Dumbledore spent his entire life—and even faced death multiple times—to reach such a realm. Yet, I only need to complete this task and allocate the attribute point to magic."

The main issue now was that Ivan had no idea where to find the Soul Coffin.

This was proving to be quite troublesome.

The system had only provided the task itself; locating the artifact and breaking its curse were challenges he would have to figure out on his own.

"Breaking the curse shouldn't be too difficult," Ivan thought.

With the dual abilities of his Magic Eye and spiritual vision, he could likely unravel most curses. That is, unless it was something akin to the Killing Curse Avada Kedavra, which had no known counter.

"But how can I find it?" Ivan wondered, frustration creeping in.

Over the next few days, he scoured the Hogwarts library for any books or records related to the Soul Coffin, but his efforts yielded no useful information.

With no other options, Ivan decided to seek help from the professors and even Dumbledore himself.

However, even the wise and well-read headmaster seemed perplexed by the term.

"The Soul Coffin?" Dumbledore repeated, his brows furrowing. "It sounds like some sort of ghost story."

The headmaster shook his head regretfully. "I'm sorry, young Ivan, but I've never encountered such a curse."

"Thank you anyway, Professor," Ivan replied politely, though disappointment was evident in his tone.

Failing to get any leads from Dumbledore left Ivan at a loss. His connections within the wizarding world were virtually nonexistent, and the only magical experts he knew were the professors at Hogwarts.

Fortunately, the professors were willing to assist.

Despite their lack of familiarity with the "Soul Coffin" Ivan mentioned, they promised to help him search for relevant information.

After all, Ivan was the strongest and favored student among the Hogwarts staff, and they wouldn't turn down such a request, especially for something so seemingly harmless.

Hua La La~~

Just as Ivan was grappling with his dead-end search, far to the east of England, a cruise ship was fishing near the coast.

The people aboard weren't fishermen but wealthy individuals enjoying a leisurely day of sea fishing.

"This must be a big catch!"

The captain barked orders to the crew, urging them to haul up the large fishing net. The passengers onboard eagerly gathered around, curious to see what treasures the sea had yielded this time.

Bang!

The heavy thud of an object hitting the deck startled everyone. Their expressions quickly shifted from excitement to astonishment.

Amid the tangled seafood now scattered on the deck, a stone coffin about half a person's length lay in stark contrast to the surrounding fish and sea creatures.

The eerie atmosphere gripped the onlookers, and an unexplainable chill seemed to creep into their hearts, making several people shiver involuntarily.

"What is this?" someone asked hesitantly.

"A stone box...?" another ventured.

Although the object resembled a coffin, its small size ruled out the possibility of holding a full-grown person—perhaps only a child could fit inside.

"Could it be an antique?" someone else suggested cautiously.

The ownership of the stone coffin was immediately unclear.

The ship had hauled it up, but it was the wealthy merchant family who had financed the sea fishing trip.

In most cases, such an unexpected find would lead to disputes over ownership.

Yet this time, no one argued.

The scene fell into an uneasy silence. Neither the captain nor the merchant family showed any willingness to claim the strange stone coffin.

Their instincts seemed to scream that the object was ominous, a thing best left untouched.

"How about donating it to a museum?" someone finally suggested.

Both the captain and the merchant were wealthy individuals who cared little about the potential monetary value of the find.

After a brief discussion, they reached a mutual understanding and decided to donate the peculiar stone coffin salvaged from the sea to the British Museum.

_____________

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Chapter 118: 118: Cursed Gold Coins

"But what's inside? Shouldn't we at least check?"

Someone in the crowd finally voiced what many were secretly thinking. The group, hesitant to approach the sarcophagus because of its strange aura, suddenly found their curiosity piqued.

For a moment, silence hung over the scene.

Gradually, their curiosity about the mysterious sarcophagus began to outweigh the fear that had initially gripped them.

"Should we… open it and have a look?"

The captain and the wealthy sea-fishing patron exchanged glances, a spark of anticipation evident in both their eyes.

Opening a chest, drawing cards, scratching lottery tickets—these were irresistible impulses that ignited human desire.

What could be inside the sarcophagus?

Could it be some priceless treasure?

As the thought took hold, neither the onlookers nor the involved parties could remain indifferent.

"Where are the tools?"

"The lid of this sarcophagus looks heavy—someone, come and help."

"Careful now, yes, just like that…"

With several people working together, the materials encrusted on the sarcophagus were cleaned off, and the heavy lid was gradually pushed aside.

"""Wow!"""

As soon as the lid shifted, a dazzling golden light burst forth from the sarcophagus, momentarily blinding everyone.

Peering closer, they saw the interior of the sarcophagus filled with gold coins, each as large as the base of a bowl.

"""Gold!"""

"It's gold coins!!"

The glimmering gold coins emitted a mesmerizing light, and each bore the depiction of a skull along with the design of a pirate flag from the 17th or 18th century.

"This is pirate gold!" someone exclaimed.

Though the origins of the gold coins and the sarcophagus remained a mystery, the captain speculated that only a legendary pirate could have gold coins like these.

And there were so many of them.

Even without considering their value as antiques, the sheer weight in gold alone was staggering.

Gulp!

The passengers, who had never seen such a hoard, stared in amazement.

"There must be nearly a thousand gold coins in there, right?" someone muttered.

This comment, like a stone thrown into a still pond, sent ripples of greed through the group.

The captain and the wealthy patron began to argue fervently over the gold's ownership.

One party claimed that since he had financed the sea-fishing expedition, anything salvaged belonged to him.

The captain, on the other hand, insisted that the treasure was hauled up using his ship, so it was rightfully his.

The passengers remained silent, but a few among them began to hatch their own plans in secret.

So many gold coins—if anyone could get their hands on them, it would amount to an incredible fortune.

The sarcophagus and the skeletal gold coins inside seemed to radiate an almost magical allure, sparking greed in more and more people.

....

"Minister, we have a situation!"

A few days later, within the Ministry of Magic, the door to the Minister's office was abruptly pushed open. A middle-aged man, appearing to be in his fifties, strode in with an air of authority. His thick eyebrows and piercing eyes gave him the look of an old lion.

This was Rufus Scrimgeour, head of the British Auror Office.

In the wizarding world, Aurors served as a powerful enforcement body, combining the roles of both police and military.

As the leader of all Aurors in Britain, Scrimgeour was known for his decisiveness and intolerance for disorder.

"What's wrong, Rufus?" Cornelius Fudge, the recently appointed Minister of Magic, asked with a frown.

"An unknown creature has been sighted at Ramsgate Pier in Kent, England," Scrimgeour reported, placing a dossier on Fudge's desk.

"Numerous local Muggles witnessed the creature, and it's caused quite a commotion."

"Damn it!"

Fudge exclaimed, slamming his fist on the desk.

"Who's behind this mess? I want the wizard responsible locked up!"

Fudge, having just assumed the role of Minister, was eager to maintain a polished image.

But now, such an incident threatened to tarnish his reputation.

It felt like a slap in the face—a public embarrassment.

Fudge couldn't help but wonder if he had unknowingly offended someone since taking office.

Those guys must be jealous of him, Cornelius Fudge thought bitterly, convinced that someone was stirring up trouble on purpose to undermine his position.

"Our Aurors arrived at the scene immediately," Scrimgeour reported, "and used Obliviate on all the local Muggles to modify their memories. In their recollections, the magical phenomena were replaced by more mundane, understandable events."

Such procedures were routine for Aurors.

"Has it been resolved, then?" Fudge asked, clearly relieved.

"For the time being," Scrimgeour replied.

Fudge exhaled quietly, ready to commend Scrimgeour for his efficiency. However, before he could speak, the Auror head added, "But it's not over yet, Minister."

"What do you mean?" Fudge asked, his relief vanishing.

"We captured those strange magical creatures," Scrimgeour explained, "and found they were cursed Muggles."

"Cursed?"

Hearing the word sent a chill through Fudge.

He instinctively picked up the report Scrimgeour had placed on his desk and began reading through it carefully.

The more he read, the more alarmed he became.

According to the Aurors' findings, the so-called strange creatures were decayed skeletons clad in tattered clothing, with remnants of flesh still clinging to their bones.

By daylight, or in the absence of moonlight, they appeared indistinguishable from ordinary people.

But under direct moonlight, their true nature was revealed—they would transform into grotesque, rotting skeletons.

"What's even more troubling," Scrimgeour continued, his voice tense, "is that whether in their skeletal form or their normal state, these Muggles are completely immune to harm."

"Immune?" Fudge echoed, his voice wavering slightly.

"Completely immune, Minister," Scrimgeour emphasized, his scalp tingling as he spoke.

"No matter the method—physical attacks, magical spells, even curses—nothing seems to affect them."

"What are you saying?" Fudge demanded, his growing unease evident.

"..."

"We made several attempts," Scrimgeour continued grimly. "Whether cutting off their hands and feet or burning them with fire, nothing caused any lasting harm to them. Of course, such actions can be carried out, but as soon as the moonlight disappears and the sun rises…"

He paused for effect.

"All the dismembered remains vanish. And, most disturbingly, the damaged corpses restore themselves completely, and the cursed Muggles come back to life."

"Merlin's beard…" Fudge muttered, his face pale.

In all his years in the magical world, he had never encountered such a bizarre and unsettling curse.

Magic of unknown origin had turned a group of Muggles into undead skeletons. How could this have happened?

"According to our investigation, the source of the curse is this."

Scrimgeour placed a skeletal gold coin on the desk.

"We used Legilimency on those skeletal muggles to trace the gold coin back to its origin," he explained.

Scrimgeour then recounted the events on the cruise ship—the discovery of the sarcophagus, the cursed gold coins, and the ensuing chaos.

By the time he finished, Fudge looked overwhelmed.

As a politician, Fudge was adept at scheming and maneuvering through bureaucratic intrigue. But when it came to magic—especially curses of this magnitude—he was completely out of his depth.

"Is it… a curse?" Fudge asked hesitantly, instinctively leaning away from the skeleton coin on his desk.

Seeing his reaction, Scrimgeour quickly reassured him. "Don't worry, Minister. The curse only affects those who take the coin directly from the sarcophagus."

"In other words," Scrimgeour continued, "if someone else hands you the coin, you won't be affected. The consequences fall solely on the person who originally removed it from the sarcophagus."

Fudge exhaled shakily, though his unease didn't entirely dissipate.

"Otherwise," Scrimgeour added darkly, "the power of this gold coin would be too terrifying. Anyone who possesses or uses it would become a walking corpse. It's no exaggeration to call this object a curse plague in the wizarding world."

"Well, I suppose we can work with this new curse? It can be a small blessing in disguise," Scrimgeour admitted with a sigh. "Still, our researchers have been studying this gold coin extensively, and we've yet to deduce an antidote for the curse."

__________

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