Chapter 302: The Discovery of the Temple
Perhaps the information about Horcruxes known in the magical world today is incomplete—crucial details hidden, intentionally or otherwise. This made the value of Herpo's treasure rise once more in Phineas's estimation.
Phineas was deeply intrigued by the possibility of creating Horcruxes that wouldn't damage the integrity of the soul nor hinder one's ascent to the realm of legends.
After all, no one wants to die. People often face death calmly only because they have no better alternative.
If Phineas truly uncovered a method of crafting Horcruxes without harming himself, he would certainly create several. It would allow him to pursue his grand ambitions with confidence.
Phineas knew that to fulfill his ultimate goal, he would need to become a god. But the path to godhood was strictly controlled by the Council of Elders. Though he had inherited Hufflepuff's legacy, the limited number of allowed ascensions would eventually bring him into conflict with the Council.
The Council was composed of immortal legends. Phineas might not be a match for any of them one-on-one, let alone many at once.
Horcruxes would tip the scales. Others feared death—he would not.
With these thoughts in mind, Phineas casually waved his wand, and a massive arc of white magic slashed through the air, striking the wizards subdued by the plants.
The wizard who had answered Phineas's question trembled and shook his head in panic.
Why am I still going to die? I answered your question!
It was his final thought.
The divine blade, empowered by the snakewood wand, obliterated the group before Phineas.
Still wary, he gestured to the sparrow perched on his shoulder.
"Go."
The sparrow leapt into the air, trembling as its body ignited in a flash of flame. In seconds, it returned to its original form: the Fiendfyre Phoenix.
It didn't need to do anything actively. The moment it ceased suppressing its internal fire, the fierce magical flames consumed everything in their path.
Fiendfyre burned endlessly, as long as it had fuel.
As before, once the bodies were turned to ash, the fire spread to the weeds and the stone beneath them.
Soon, it reached the crumbling ruins of the temple.
Phineas made no attempt to douse the blaze.
The Phoenix reverted to its sparrow form and returned to his shoulder. The little creature was clearly delighted, knowing that after battles it was usually dismissed. Though it retained its memories through its soulstone anchor, it still wanted to remain outside a bit longer.
Phineas ignored its joy. He smiled coldly as he watched the ancient temple vanish in flame.
If the guardian family had hoped to bury the secret of the temple forever, then he would grant their wish—by reducing the temple to nothing.
Surely, the family had seen the fiery explosion by now. With none of their scouts returning, they would guess the worst and send reinforcements.
That was what Phineas wanted. The burning temple would serve as bait.
He was a man who eliminated potential threats. Even if this family was no more than a nuisance to him or Blacks, a swarm of ants can still bite.
"Stay here," Phineas instructed the little sparrow. "Do not let any wizard who arrives leave alive."
Though the Phoenix was born from Fiendfyre, it was no longer pure Fiendfyre. Its form had evolved. Apart from Phineas's own dispersal spell, no typical counter-curse would affect it.
And with its ability to resurrect from ash, it could fight forever—unless Phineas chose to unbind it.
He left it behind because he had no intention of wasting more time. His destination was the ruins beneath the Aegean Sea.
Just as he turned to leave, he felt it—an unusual fluctuation in the magical residue of the temple.
This wasn't caused by the battle or the Phoenix's fire. It had been there all along, simply hidden beneath layers of magic.
Phineas frowned and cast a Fiendfyre counter-curse on the temple ruins.
Now that the flames were no longer under the Phoenix's control, they could be dispelled.
As the fire vanished, Phineas stepped forward and crouched beside the charred remains of the statue that once stood at the temple's heart.
A crack had appeared in the stone beneath—one concealed with complex magic, and further hidden beneath another layer of spells. Even someone as perceptive as Phineas hadn't noticed it until now. Others surely wouldn't have either.
Had the flames not revealed it, he might've missed it entirely.
This discovery made him scowl.
His original plan was to have the Phoenix stall incoming enemies while he searched the seabed ruins. But now, it seemed the real treasure might lie beneath this temple.
If so, then the Phoenix's presence might become a liability.
The firestorm would've already drawn attention—not just from the family but possibly from unrelated wizards eager to stop magical interference in Muggle lands. What had been an advantage now threatened to become a hindrance.
What should he do?
Phineas frowned, mind racing. If it were a machine, it would've been smoking from the overload.
Then, inspiration struck.
If I can't prevent them from discovering the truth, I'll let them—on my terms.
He turned to the sparrow.
"Hold them off, no matter how many come. Just for three hours. Then you may disperse."
Reluctantly, the little Phoenix chirped in response, then soared above the ruins, peering watchfully into the distance.
Phineas opened the concealed passage beneath the crack and descended.
What he found was not a hidden chamber, but a long tunnel.
He closed his eyes and felt around—there were no wards against magic or Apparition.
He grinned. Perhaps his plans could still be adjusted.
He waved his wand, lighting up the passage. Then, with a second wave, he collapsed the entrance behind him.
That would buy him some time.
He illuminated the path further with a spell from the glove on his left hand and walked on.
After around forty minutes, the tunnel ended—at a staircase.
And beyond the staircase, another tunnel.
Phineas, though patient, began to grow irritated.
Inhale. Exhale.
He forced himself to breathe and calm down—and in doing so, realized something was wrong.
He wasn't usually so irritable.
Something in this tunnel was agitating his emotions.
He looked around, but the lighting was too dim.
So he raised the snakewood wand, unleashing a flood of magic. The simple lighting spell flared like the sun, illuminating everything.
And there, on the walls, he saw the cause—murals.
Hidden in shadow, they emitted emotional magic, subtly affecting all who passed. Joy, fear, rage—every emotion would grow unchecked until reason collapsed.
Even a seasoned wizard could fall to this trap.
Phineas silently praised his own caution.
He cast a spell on himself—a rare piece of magic nearly lost to time.
It forced complete calmness. Once under its effects, the caster would feel nothing—only rational clarity.
Originally devised for war, it had backfired when soldiers, analyzing the odds calmly, had chosen to surrender rather than fight.
Phineas had learned of it through Nicolas's notes. For alchemy, absolute calm was a necessity.
With the spell active, Phineas resumed his journey.
Now immune to the murals, he moved swiftly. An hour had passed. Two remained before the Phoenix was to vanish.
Twenty minutes later, he reached a large stone door.
It bore three concentric circles, each lined with cryptic symbols. A triangle stood at the top.
Was it… a password lock?
Phineas suddenly found it utterly absurd. Gringotts, the most secure location in the wizarding world, used enchanted doors protected by layers of powerful spells—yet this hidden temple, buried beneath the ruins and laden with ancient secrets, had a simple Muggle-style combination lock?
He frowned. That couldn't be right.
Surely a magical barrier or anti-unlocking charm had been cast over it. After all, no proper wizard would rely on something so mundane.
Still, just to be certain, he raised his wand.
"Alohomora."
To his astonishment, the stone door creaked open at once.
Phineas was speechless.
A hidden passage. Deadly illusions. And then… this?
Still fuming, he stepped inside.
There were several boxes, and beside them, dusty cloths covering books.
Even without lifting the cloths, Phineas could feel the magic radiating from them.
These were true magical books.
Not books about magic—books of magic.
Such books were rare beyond measure. Even the Elders' treasury, Gringotts vaults, and Hogwarts' Restricted Section held only a handful.
And here… there were three.
He examined the covers.
One was brown with scale-like texture—basilisk hide.
Another was black, pulsing with fiery aura—dragon-hide.
The last, yellowed and rough—human skin. The faint, intricate traces of human spellwork made it unmistakable.
Even before opening them, Phineas knew these books were priceless.
But now was not the time.
From his robe, he pulled a tiny suitcase, enchanted with both Shrinking and Undetectable Extension Charms.
He would examine the treasures later.