Chapitre 11: Mysterious Ruins
A few days later…
"Ah! I didn't expect there to actually be ruins! What a shock. While I thought it probably wasn't a lie, given all the uproar, I can't believe there's an unexplored ruin smack in the middle of a grass plain like this. Really surprising, right?"
As Hekkeran spoke, his team members from The Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes nodded in agreement.
The Great Tomb of Nazarick stood defiant against time and reality—an enigma woven from forgotten threads. Its outer visage defied categorization, drawing inspiration from realms beyond mortal ken.
As they approached, the perimeter walls loomed—a barrier both protective and foreboding. One reason why ruins like these had not been explored was the ancient magic that had faded away, giving rise to the catastrophe a few days prior.
The surrounding land was grass as far as the eye could see, with no remnants of ancient cities nearby to draw explorers' attention. Scattered hillocks of dirt, like stars in the sky, obscured the central building, visible only from a high vantage point.
Each stone, weathered by aeons, bore no earthly signature. No pattern adorned the tombstones—no lineage, no dynasty.
"No doubt about it. In truth, I'm quite excited about this. After all, unexplored ruins might contain startling treasures."
"That's a bit hard to say. Given the chaos it caused when emerging, it's clear there will be many dangerous monsters within."
The gates beckoned—the front and back entrances, twin maws awaiting seekers and supplicants. Their iron hinges whispered secrets—the echoes of countless arrivals and departures.
"So, what do you guys think? Is He… in there?"
Hekkeran's eyes carefully studied the cut grass. Within, the statues stood sentinel—goddesses and angels, their forms frozen in marble and alabaster. Some bore wings, others held scales or swords. Their eyes, once alive with celestial purpose, now gazed into infinity.
And the mausoleums—the cardinal points of existence. To the north, a crypt of ice and moonlight; to the south, a sepulchre of flames and forgotten oaths. Eastward, a vault of whispers and veils; westward, a sanctum of shadows and echoes.
But the heart—the centre mausoleum—was the nexus of all mysteries. Its entrance, flanked by armoured sentinels, stood taller than ambition itself. Their eyes, gemstones reflecting forgotten stars, watched the threshold.
And there, within the tomb's core, lay the void…
"The vegetation in the graveyard's been neatly trimmed. There isn't even a trace of algae here, so someone must be taking good care of it. But, is He… alone?"
Each team—aside from Tenbu of the Improper Use of Magic Office—had felt something amiss when they researched the site.
Looking around, they saw plains upon plains, singularly unsuited for building a tomb.
For starters, one had to consider convenience. Building such a luxurious tomb in such a deserted place made no sense at all; it was far too inconvenient.
It would be understandable if this was not to honour the dead, but to serve as a memorial for future generations. After all, people sometimes built monuments upon places where great deeds took place.
However, in that case, the fact that this great accomplishment had not been passed down in history felt entirely unnatural. Well, aside from the incident 10 years ago. But it was still not on this scale. Or—maybe...
Magic veiled it from discovery, shrouding its secrets.
Was it Egyptian? Roman? Atlantean? No. It was all and none. A convergence of memories—the whispers of lost civilizations, the echoes of gods.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, the Great Tomb held its breath.
All the teams had shared the information they had gathered, but there was no relevant data among it, indicating that this ruin might have been erased from history. It all seemed highly irregular.
There was a bizarre sensation, like something stuck in Hekkeran's throat, and it made him furrow his brows.
"More than that, I'm more uneasy why so many Owls are gathered here and none daring to fly past the wall."
At those words, the owl perched on the parapet hooted—with great fear in its eyes, a witness to unseen horrors.
The Ministry had surrounded the Tomb on all sides, with many Owls flying here and there holding letters in their claws. A normal sight at the Ministry Headquarters, but the strange thing was that not a single Owl dared to fly over the Tomb. Even if it had to go to the other side, the Owls would simply skirt around the corner to reach their destination.
Such behaviour was quickly noticed, and the Ministry decided to directly command the Owls and other pets and familiars to go inside the Tomb with magic. But no matter how many times the spell was used, no creature dared to budge and go over the walls.
Later that day, several Owls came holding letters and started flying around the tomb; some sat on the nearby tents staring into the tomb.
Upon investigation, it was revealed that they were carrying a letter—a letter from Hogwarts.
The yellowish envelope, addressed in emerald green to Mr. H. Potter, The Grand floor, The Great Tomb of Nazarick ver—3.0, Near Godric's Hollow.
Once the identity of the person the letter was addressed to was known, many more Aurors and Wizards gathered. Ancient unexplored ruins were popular tourist destinations for many wizards hoping to make it big with one adventure, but Harry Potter—now that was the biggest celebrity in all of Europe, if not the world.
If someone could find him, they would become an instant star with many interviews from the Daily Prophet and might even get awards like the Order of Merlin.
"It would save a lot of trouble if they were just Golems tidying up the ruins on orders from their previous masters. Then, what do you plan to do after this?"
"—I think Hekkeran should attend the meeting in my place."
"Don't worry about it, the other team leaders didn't take part either, right? This is called making full use of one's resources, mm."
Hekkeran winked at Arche, and she sighed with deliberate loudness.
"—In any case, all the teams will move in after dark. We'll enter from four directions at once and meet up at the central mausoleum.
"I see, because we'll be spotted more easily when entering during the day."
"—Correct."
The surrounding terrain was open, with no signs of observers or travelers. Thus, entering directly was also a valid option, but they had to be on watch against unexpected situations. It was somewhat safer to move around in the dark.
They might still learn something by continuing to observe the ruins, though with the results so far, there was very little progress to be made.
To avoid wasted effort, they opted for a plan where everyone would go in together.
Hekkeran understood that point and nodded. While there were still some holes in the plan, this was the best balance they could strike between risk and effectiveness.
"In that case, we'll be resting for now?"
"—Yes, Darkness and Screaming Whip will be in charge of security; but for safety's sake and to keep everyone on their toes, the various teams will be assigning sentries to keep an eye on things."
Darkness and Screaming Whip were among the best-known wizarding mercenary groups. Especially Darkness, who had risen in the past ten years with members from various races. They had no equal in terms of strength, and despite much speculation, their loyalty and honesty to their work were perfect.
The Leader, Momon, was said to be a Half Giant who could slay a troll with one swift sword strike, and the 'Vampire Princess' of the Lost Country, Evileye, could even slay a Dragon single-handedly. They had many other strong members in their group spread all across the world.
"I see, so we're the last, then."
"—Yes, it'll be a while before it's our turn."
Saying so, Arche cricked her neck and worked her shoulders.
"Thanks for your hard work."
Arche nodded to Roberdyck.
"—I'm so tired. We spent so much time because that idiot wanted to just barge into the ruins. It took us a lot of time to talk him down. That man doesn't know the meaning of teamwork at all."
"...Ah, that sword genius guy..."
"Just call him Goddamn Son-of-a-bitch."
Hekkeran smiled at Imina, who was a half-blood—the murderous intent was steaming off her.
Just as the other two were expressing their agreement with Hekkeran, they heard the sound of flesh striking flesh, followed by a house elf trying to bite back a scream of pain.
All the people present turned their eyes to the same spot. Several had already taken out their wands, believing something had happened.
The source of the scream lay before Eruya — one of his elves, who lay upon the ground. Judging by the circumstances, Eruya had probably punched her. The elf looked up at Eruya's face, which was twisted in anger. Her own face was filled with fear as she begged pathetically for forgiveness.
Hekkeran fought back a rising wave of nausea, and a thought flashed through his mind. He hurriedly turned his attention towards his companion — Imina.
Just as he had imagined, her face had gone blank. There was a dangerous air around her, as though she would launch an attack if things went any further.
Hekkeran hurriedly signalled to Roberdyck and Arche, who were standing beside her, telling them to hold her back.
Personally speaking, Hekkeran was as angry as Imina. However, he could not stick his nose into the problems of other teams. Of course, he could do so if he wanted. However, if he did, he would need to be prepared to bear all the consequences of that choice. That was why the other teams simply wrinkled their brows in displeasure, but none of them made a move.
Imina's reason eventually overcame her desire to fight, and she spat on the ground after directing a lewd gesture at his back.
"...The only thing he has that got him the job is his swordsmanship. And that too, is only because of the secret power of his family's elves."
Erya Uzruth—the last descendant remaining of the once-powerful ancient Wizarding family, House of Uzruth. The family was famous for the secret technique one of their elves created in devotion to their founder. It is said that when the Founder was fighting a Troll and lost his wand, his old elf-servant created a powerful magic to protect his master, giving him immense strength to behead the Troll in one slash.
Since then, all the house elves in the service of House Uzruth were rigorously trained in it. However, unlike the first patriarch who held great love and respect for his loyal servants, the following generations began to treat them as mere tools of war. It led to a revolt with the massacre of most of the lineage by their own servants.
Now only Erya Uzruth remains, who had put some form of slave seal on his elves. Maybe that seal was the reason for the massacre.
"Rumors say that he even uses them for relieving himself." At those words, everyone's expression turned to that of utter disgust.
"Alright, we'll stop here for now."
"...Indeed. Since Hekkeran's here too, let's decide the most important thing."
"That man refused, so who'll be our overall leader?"
The three of them fell silent.
There were four teams present here:
Foresight from The Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes,
Heavy Masher from The Department of International Magical Co-operation,
Dragon Hunt from The Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, and
Tenmu from The Improper Use of Magic Office.
While all of them possessed ample fighting power, without someone to coordinate and lead everyone, they would not be able to take effective action. It was like having many arms but being unable to use them all at the same time; little different from only having one.
Being able to make effective use of a team of strong personalities was not an easy task, and doing so without complaints from anybody was even more difficult. If the instructions resulted in failure, or if others thought that one was placing their own team's gain above their own, it would incur the wrath of the other teams.
Frankly speaking, the position demanded excellent skills, yet there were more demerits than merits to taking it.
Every team leader understood that point, so they all remained silent while watching each other's faces. Each of them wanted to dump this burden onto the first person to open their mouth. After about a minute's silence, Hekkeran tiredly suggested:
"Honestly, we don't need an overall leader, do we?"
"That's just delaying the inevitable. It'll be troublesome once fighting breaks out."
"...Mine idea is that we should alternate. That way resentment will not accrue. I feel we may discuss the matter at greater length upon reaching the ruins."
"Ah~"
"You do have a point."
Both of them approved of Gringam's suggestion.
"In that case, we'll go in order of when we arrive there."
"How about Uzruth and his Tenbu?"
"It's fine if we skip that punk. Besides, he won't be able to do it."
"I agree, revered elder. Then, as the one who proposed it, my Heavy Masher shall take the lead."
"I'm counting on you, Gringam."
"Please do, young man."
"Understood."
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone