章 399: 0398 The Discoveries

As one of the world's most powerful wizards, there were very few phenomena in the Wizarding World that could truly unsettle or intimidate Godric Gryffindor and Rowena Ravenclaw, especially when they were working together.

Now, as they stood before what appeared to be the very maw of the underworld itself—the two barely hesitated for more than a heartbeat. With a shared glance of determination glinting in their eyes, they leapt decisively into the gaping darkness.

Bryan and Sirius, being in the memory world, were free from any constraints and followed suit.

The passage that greeted them was a twisting tunnel that burrowed deep into the earth's crust. The air grew increasingly dense and oppressive as they plummeted further from the surface, carrying with it the musty scent of long-forgotten caverns and the faint, briny tang of seawater.

Bryan, his senses oddly heightened despite existing in a memory, found himself marveling at the vividness of these sensations. He assumed that the method used to preserve this particular memory must have been extraordinarily powerful, allowing them to experience some of the sensations that Ravenclaw and Gryffindor had felt during their original journey.

The descent lasted for about two minutes, unimpeded and as swift as a meteor streaking across the sky. As they plunged ever deeper, the air around them underwent a dramatic transformation. The initial coolness of the upper passage gave way to an increasingly oppressive heat, a subtle burning sensation that seemed to sear the air they breathed, making Bryan wonder if the passage might lead them straight to the Earth's core.

Whoosh—

With a sudden whoosh that sent their robes fluttering wildly, the group reached the final curve of the passage. This last bend served as a natural brake, decelerating their meteoric descent to a more manageable speed. Gryffindor landed with catlike grace upon the stone floor below. In a display of both chivalry and practicality, he extended his muscular arm, his hand easily encircling Ravenclaw's slender wrist helping her.

As they regained their senses, the group found themselves standing in what appeared, at first glance, to be a rather unremarkable stone chamber. However, Bryan could still discern from the carving techniques on the stone walls roughly what era this structure was built in.

A faint, ominous glow emanated from the corridor stretching out before them, bathing the chamber in an eerie, reddish light. While it bore a superficial resemblance to magical lighting, but considering the scorching heat in the air, it wasn't hard to guess what was actually producing that glow.

"That Madman!" Gryffindor exclaimed after surveying the surroundings for a moment. "He built his lair in the heart of a lava lake, surrounded by so many magical detection shields. If we hadn't been guided here, I daresay we would never have found this place."

Ravenclaw put her diadem back on her head. Her ice-blue pupils penetrated the barriers of the walls, seeing through many secrets. "The magical concentration in this environment is extremely high, far exceeding that of Hogwarts," she said calmly. "It's the perfect place for any wizard aiming to advance to the Final circle."

'Advance to the Final circle?'

Bryan's eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly at Ravenclaw's words, a hint of surprise and intrigue flashing across his features. With renewed focus, he carefully examined his surroundings.

If Bryan was truly present here in person, he would undoubtedly discover more. Unfortunately, what was presented before him was just a memory, similar to the portrait. He had no way to sense more things. With no other choice, he could only firmly remember Ravenclaw's words.

"Let's go, Godric. There are some things here that concern me. I must see them with my own eyes," Ravenclaw said, leaving the stone chamber without lingering.

As they ventured deeper into this underground labyrinth, a palpable aura of malice seemed to seep from the very walls of the narrow corridor. The oppressive atmosphere weighed heavily upon them causing even the usually boisterous Sirius to fall uncharacteristically silent. Almost unconsciously, he reached out to grasp the hem of Bryan's robe.

Bryan, sensing the sudden tug on his robes, turned back with a look of mild surprise. "What's troubling you?"

Sirius hearing the question suddenly became aware of his actions, and quickly released his grip on Bryan's robe. "It's nothing!" he asserted, shaking his head as if to clear it of unwelcome thoughts. However, after a moment's hesitation, he couldn't help but voice the fears that had been gnawing at him.

"Aren't you... afraid?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "I know we're just observing a memory, Bryan, but still..." His words trailed off as he cast another apprehensive glance at the narrow, ominously glowing passage that stretched out before them.

After pondering for a moment, Bryan understood what Sirius was trying to express. He pursed his lips and smiled mysteriously, "You mean the environment here? Well, how should I put it... Most magical ruins dating back to ancient Greek times have this style. In recent years—I mean before I returned to teach at Hogwarts—I had explored some tomb ruins with relics, and they were all like this."

Sirius, his eyes widening slightly at Bryan's casual mention of tomb exploration, found himself grinding his teeth as he stared at Bryan's back.

'Explore tomb ruins with relics?' he thought to himself, a mixture of disbelief coloring his inner monologue. 'Isn't that just a fancy way of saying he was grave robbing?'

As they continued their journey through the winding corridors of this underground complex, it became increasingly apparent that Bryan's earlier assessment had been remarkably accurate. The ruins buried deep beneath the surface of Azkaban Island bore a striking resemblance to the ancient tombs he had explored in his past adventures.

Their path took them through a seemingly endless series of twisting passages, occasionally opening up into chambers similar to the one they had initially encountered. Those rooms were shrouded in darkness, making it impossible to see clearly what was inside. Interestingly, neither Gryffindor nor Ravenclaw showed any inclination to pause or investigate these shadowy chambers, suggesting that they held little significance to their current pursuit.

As they progressed deeper into the heart of this maze, Bryan's noticed clear evidence of protective magic having once been employed throughout the complex. However, these ancient wards and enchantments now lay in ruins, their power long since shattered by some unknown force. It required little deductive reasoning to surmise who might have been responsible for dismantling these magical defenses.

With each step they took, the reddish glow that had been their constant companion since entering this underground realm grew steadily more intense. The air around them became increasingly oppressive, thick with heat and an almost tangible sense of ancient, slumbering power. Although Gryffindor and Ravenclaw's expressions remained calm as they strode forward, beads of sweat had formed on their foreheads.

Sirius, who was so depressed by the dull atmosphere that he could not say a word, while Bryan remained lost in thought throughout the journey.

Soul-splitting wizards—Horcruxes—Dementors—

Over the course of the past year, he had many speculations regarding the true identity of the shadow lurking within Morgan le Fay's body shown in the nine murals on Avalon Island. So, when Gryffindor mentioned the name 'Herpo The Foul' with a weary sigh, Bryan wasn't particularly surprised. It just confirmed the suspicions he had long harbored.

However, the hidden content in the other information exchanged between Ravenclaw and Gryffindor was worth pondering deeply.

Boom!

Suddenly, a faint but distinct rumbling sound emanated from somewhere ahead of them, causing the very air around them to vibrate with ominous energy. Gryffindor and Ravenclaw immediately quickened their pace, moving swiftly towards the source of the disturbance and the increasingly bright light.

"Bryan—" Sirius called out, his voice strained and filled with a complex mixture of emotions. Having spent so much time in Bryan's company, he had developed an almost supernatural sense of when they were about to face something truly extraordinary—or terrifying.

"Madness—" Bryan just shook his head, uttering this word before falling silent.

As they crossed the threshold of the final doorway, the world before them erupted into a sea of crimson light so intense it was almost painful to observe. After traversing the long, shadowy corridor, their eyes struggled to adapt to this sudden, blinding radiance. For several long moments, they could do nothing but squint against the overpowering radiance.

When their pupils finally adjusted to the hellish glow, the scene that greeted them left not only Bryan and Sirius utterly speechless but also caused the two legendary Hogwarts founders to draw sharp, ragged breaths.

Before them stretched an extremely huge cave, even more vast than the cave in Slytherin's Chamber of Secrets that concealed that unopenable door!

Everything in sight glowed a dazzling red, and the air in view distorted violently.

Gryffindor and Ravenclaw had both cast spells on themselves to resist the high temperature of the environment.

Behind the door was a small, not particularly spacious flat stone platform, with the edge being a cliff.

Sirius, driven by curiosity that overpowered his fear, was the first to approach the cliff. As he peered over the edge, his face twisted as if he had seen a huge dementor.

Two miles below, a vast lake of molten lava churned and boiled. From this sea of liquid fire, colossal pillars of flame periodically erupted, shooting skyward. As these titanic columns of fire exploded in the air high above, the sound they produced was eerily similar to the earth-shattering roar of an enraged dragon. The resulting display, a cataclysmic ballet of golden-red fire raining down like 'fireworks' from the cave's distant ceiling, might have been considered breathtakingly beautiful were it not so utterly terrifying.

The heat emanating from this inferno was so intense that the rocks lining the shore of the lava lake were in a constant state of flux, melting and reforming in a never-ending cycle of destruction and creation. Over eons, this process had carved out the cavern's unique shape—a colossal, roughly circular space similar to an enormous, narrow-mouthed vessel with a bulbous body.

"How... how is this even possible?" Sirius managed to rasp out, his face ashen and his entire body trembling as he struggled to grasp the scene before him. "How on earth did they do this... Is this still within wizard's power?"

Merlin had suspended Avalon Island in the sky, while Herpo had dug a huge hole in his lair and brought up lava.

Shaking his head in a mixture of awe and disbelief, Bryan couldn't help but wonder at the mindset of these ancient wizards. What drove them to push the boundaries of magic to such extremes? What price had been paid for power on this scale?

"The concentration of magical energy here is... beyond anything I've ever encountered," Gryffindor observed, his voice barely audible over the constant rumble of the lava below. He waved his hand through the scorching air, as if testing its properties. "This abnormal saturation of magical power... it emanates from the lava lake itself. It seems, Rowena, that our path forward is clear—we must find a way to get down there."

"Get down there? You must be joking!" Gryffindor's solemn words nearly made Sirius tumble headfirst into the lava lake. He trembled with fear as he watched the massive lava bubbles bursting on the lake's surface far below. In that moment, Sirius was absolutely certain that even the slightest contact with that molten inferno would mean instant, agonizing death.

Bryan was also slightly shocked, though he was much calmer than Sirius. "Don't worry, there must be some way," he said.

Bryan was quite familiar with the patterns of such ruins. Although he couldn't sense it, he was sure that this enormous cave must be filled with powerful sealing magic. Since Gryffindor said they needed to go down to the lava lake, there must be a correct path. If they tried to force their way through relying solely on their strength, the pillars of fire shooting up from the lava lake below would probably not be so 'gentle'!

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章 400: 0399 The Ruins

Magic follows rules!

If Gryffindor and Ravenclaw tried to bypass the rules and enter the lava lake below through sheer force, all the remaining defensive magic in this magical ruin would likely erupt instantly. In that case, the entire island of Azkaban might even be overturned into the sea.

Ravenclaw remained silent, her ice-blue pupils flickering with light as her gaze swept across the entire cave.

"Have you found anything, Rowena?"

Deciphering secrets was clearly not Godric Gryffindor's forte. After glancing around the cave a few times, he frustratingly gave up searching and placed his hope on Ravenclaw.

Bryan and Sirius both turned their attention to Ravenclaw. They knew she would certainly find a path to the boiling lava lake, but they were curious about how she would accomplish it.

As Bryan gazed at the profile of this powerful and beautiful legendary witch, his brow suddenly furrowed.

Since boarding the ship with the two Hogwarts founders, Bryan had been overwhelmed by one secret after another, leaving him no energy to properly observe the diadem worn by this legendary witch.

To outsiders, Ravenclaw's diadem might be considered a famous artifact with precious historical value. But In reality, none of the relics left by the Four Founders were simple. For instance, as Ravenclaw was immersed in thought, her Diadem of Wisdom constantly flickered with crystalline light, clearly providing her with some form of assistance.

Long moments passed, filled only with the ominous rumbling of the lava far below and the barely perceptible hum of magic that permeated the very air around them. Then, almost imperceptibly at first, a smile began to touch Ravenclaw's lips.

"I've recalled something Salazar once shared with me,"

Gryffindor's eyebrows rose in interest, his earlier frustration giving way to curiosity. "Oh? And what might that be?"

It was in this moment that Bryan realized the relationship between Gryffindor and Slytherin was far better than later historical accounts would have made people believe. There was no trace of the rumored animosity or disgust in Gryffindor's voice as he spoke of Slytherin, but he rather asked with great interest.

Ravenclaw's eyes sparkled as she continued, "Salazar once told me that the earliest recorded Parselmouth in magical history was none other than Herpo the Foul himself."

Gryffindor's expression shifted to one of dawning comprehension, tinged with a hint of regret. "You mean to say—" he began, before shaking his head regretfully. "I should have dragged that secretive old serpent out of his gloomy dungeon far earlier."

Bryan's brow furrowed as well, suddenly remembering how the Chamber of Secrets was opened.

"It's alright—" Ravenclaw blinked offering a reassuring smile. "I once asked Salazar to teach me some rudimentary Parseltongue. While I'm not fluent in Parseltongue, I did take the precaution of recording several key phrases and incantations."

Sirius, who had remained uncharacteristically silent throughout much of their journey, suddenly spoke up.

"Harry's a Parselmouth too, isn't he?"

Upon receiving confirmation of this fact, Sirius fell silent once more, muttering something under his breath that the Bryan couldn't quite catch.

Parseltongue was widely regarded as an eerie, dark, and obscure language – a tongue associated with some of the most sinister chapters in magical history. Yet, as the syllables flowed from Ravenclaw, they carried an almost ethereal quality. The hissing sounds, at first barely audible, grew in volume and intensity over the span of several seconds. Soon, the hissing overpowered even the thunderous roar of the lava lake below, filling the cave with a sound that was at once terrifying and strangely beautiful.

For a breathless moment, nothing happened. Then, with a sound like the world itself being torn apart, the churning sea of lava below began to move. The molten rock split open, forming a chasm so vast and terrifying that it seemed to defy the very laws of nature. From this newly formed gap rose two colossal lava waterfalls, their seething, surging magma emitting a light so intense that it rivaled the sun itself in its terrible brilliance.

The group found themselves momentarily blinded, forced to shield their eyes against the overwhelming radiance. As their vision slowly adjusted, they witnessed a sight that would be forever seared into their memories: amidst the blinding, apocalyptic glow, a staircase was slowly rising from the depths. Step by step, it ascended towards the edge of the cliff where they stood, presenting a path into the very heart of this lava lake.

The sheer magnitude of the magical display before them was almost too much for their minds to process.

Sirius, already pushed to his limits by the trials they had endured, felt his grasp on this world of memories beginning to slip. An intense wave of dizziness washed over him, causing his body to appear translucent and ethereal for a moment. It seemed as though the overwhelming sensory input had triggered signs of awakening in his real consciousness, threatening to tear him away from this world of memories.

Bryan patted Sirius on the shoulder, but his own complexion was equally grim.

Herpo the Foul – a name that still sent shivers down the spines of witches and wizards a millennium after his reign of terror. He was the only Dark Wizard from ancient Greek times whose infamy still persisted in the world. Beyond the creation of the first Horcrux and the development of blood curses that still plagued magical bloodlines to this day, Herpo's shadow loomed large over the entire field of dark magic. In the current wizarding world, those immensely powerful and extremely evil dark magic of unclear origin were still habitually attributed to Herpo's head.

From this, one could imagine how many lives this character must have destroyed during his active years.

Gryffindor's face was contorted with rage as he drew his sword. His overwhelmingly powerful aura even pushed back the pervasive heat. He was about to strike when Ravenclaw suddenly stopped him.

"Stop, Godric—"

Facing the enraged Gryffindor, Ravenclaw gently shook her head.

The staircase that now stretched from their position at the top of the cliff down into the roiling sea of lava was not constructed of stone, nor was it formed from any precious metals or rare magical materials. Instead, the hundreds of steps – each easily ten feet wide and descending towards the molten depths below – were crafted entirely from severed pairs of hands.

These hands, unnaturally lifelike and somehow maintaining a disturbing moisture despite the intense heat, were immediately recognizable to the horrified onlookers.

They were not the hands of wizards, but those of house-elves!

As if this gruesome display were not enough, the sides of each step floated a head—house-elf heads!

Most horrifying of all, these severed heads still bore the humble, servile smiles they had worn in life. Their mouths were slightly open, with heads tilted slightly downward as if bowing to the owner of the ruins!

Herpo the Foul had used the hands of house-elves to create steps and their heads as handrails!

How utterly contemptuous of life this person was!

House-elves, while not universally treated with kindness, were still an active and integral part of the wizarding world. Many served pure-blood wizard families, passing from generation to generation as prized (if often mistreated) possessions. Others, like those who staffed the kitchens of Hogwarts, served larger magical institutions.

These little creatures took pride in serving wizards, considering it the meaning of their lives. This distorted notion was imprinted on their very souls, which is why they were viewed as property rather than living beings by the wizards who used them.

But Bryan was certain that even in today's wizarding world, those pure-blood supremacist families who had inherited such harshness and prejudice would find it hard not to be moved by this sight!

"Kreacher..."

With Bryan's comfort, Sirius's complexion finally improved somewhat, but he still covered his mouth.

"What would Kreacher say if he saw this?" Sirius whispered, breathing heavily. But then he shook his head answering his own question,

"Kreacher would probably consider this the highest honor. He dreams of having his head cut off after death and hanging it next to my mother's portrait."

Fierce anger flashed in Bryan's eyes.

House-elves were not unfamiliar magical creatures to him, but in the past, he had indeed not paid much attention to these beings. However, this horrific scene laid out before him had served as a brutal awakening.

Wasn't this too absurd?

Look at the goblins, the centaurs, werewolves, vampires, leprechauns, veela, and even gnomes!

What other species would embrace such an extreme philosophy of existence? What twisted circumstances could lead an entire race to consider absolute slavery to another species as the highest expression of their lives's purpose?

"Helga would likely be driven to the brink of madness if she were to witness this atrocity,"

Gryffindor's voice was thick with emotion. He had sheathed his sword, recognizing that destroying the staircase would only trap them at the top of the cliff. Yet the act of restraint seemed to pain him physically, his hand still resting on the hilt of his weapon as if longing to strike out against this monument to cruelty.

Gryffindor's eyes took on a distant look. "Helga has always wanted to remove the vicious curse on these little ones. If she saw the torture these little fellows endured, she'd probably go mad with rage."

Bryan found his mind wandering to the wizarding world he knew - a thousand years ahead from this time, but in many ways still grappling with the same prejudices and injustices. While the treatment of house-elves had undoubtedly improved in some respects, it was still far from what one might consider humane or just. One can imagine what kind of life these little ones lived in the closed wizarding society of a thousand years ago, where honor and bloodline were still mainstream.

Among the four close friends who had founded Hogwarts, Helga Hufflepuff had always been renowned for her gentle nature and boundless kindness. It was not difficult to imagine that she alone might have extended her compassion to these humble, pitiful creatures that others overlooked or disdained.

"The origins of house-elves have long been shrouded in mystery," Ravenclaw said, her eyes never leaving the grotesque staircase before them. "Since the earliest days of organized wizarding society, these creatures have been serving wizards. Yet almost no one in our time has thought to find about their true origins.

Now, faced with this abomination, I fear we may have stumbled upon a truth more horrific than we could have imagined. It seems likely that they were created here, brought into existence as slaves."

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