The Gray family was a cadet branch of the lineage of Percival Rackham, one of the ancient Guardians.
After centuries of change, what was once a great house had degenerated into little more than an appendage of the Lestrange family.
Calling them "vassals" was generous—there was virtually no difference between them and servants, and now even that status existed in name only.
Having inherited the ancestral tome An Introduction to Ancient Magic, Bode Gray had harbored grand ambitions since childhood.
He would restore the Gray family to the glory of their forebears.
Now, standing on the damp stone floor of an ancient ruin and feeling the active magical particles swirling around him, Bode felt closer than ever to his goal.
Why had he wanted to kidnap Audrey Astre in the first place?
Was it not precisely to seize the power of ancient magic?
From his ancestors' notes, he had learned that powerful ancient magic was preserved beneath Hogwarts, and that only witches or wizards capable of seeing ancient magic echoes could locate it.
But the goblins had shown him another path.
Ancient magic was not confined to Hogwarts at all.
Its knowledge lay hidden within ruins scattered across the world.
The corridor before him was as wide and tall as the gate outside, as though the ruin's original master had been a giant.
After thousands of years, the ruin's lighting system should have long since failed. With a Lumos spell glowing at his wand tip, Bode advanced cautiously.
He was so careful it was as if some monster might leap out of the darkness beyond the spell's reach at any moment.
He glanced back.
There was no sign of Tethys or the goblins. Presumably, at the earlier fork in the path, they had chosen a different route.
The corridor was utterly silent.
Only his own footsteps echoed.
Scrape. Click. Scrape. Click…
The oppressive atmosphere made his skin crawl. He felt as though something, deep within the ruin, was watching him.
Click. Scrape. Click. Scrape…
His heartbeat quickened. His breathing grew shallow.
Finally, Bode could endure no more.
He raised his wand and slashed violently toward the depths of the corridor.
The best way to face fear was to shatter it.
And anger could drown out unease.
A bolt of lightning shot forth.
Silver-white electricity illuminated the passage and flew straight into a stone chamber.
Using the flash of lightning as guidance, Bode saw the path ahead.
He levitated himself and swiftly entered the chamber.
The room was immense.
Exquisite murals covered the walls, seemingly depicting the glorious life of the tomb's owner.
At the center stood a stone sarcophagus, beautifully carved. With his rudimentary knowledge of alchemy, Bode could barely identify several common magical circuits etched into it.
On the front of the sarcophagus, runic script proclaimed:
"Here lies Orbdra, Enemy of the Gods."
Orbdra?
Bode Gray's pupils contracted sharply.
In Norse mythology, Orbdra (also known as Angrboda—differences in transliteration notwithstanding) was a female fire giant, mother of the grain goddess Gerðr. Yet she was better known as Loki's lover, who bore the monstrous wolf Fenrir, the World Serpent Jörmungandr, and Hel, goddess of death.
Enemy of the gods indeed.
Bode floated upward toward the ceiling, allowing him to see the sarcophagus in its entirety.
The lid was fashioned from a single massive slab of crystal.
Perhaps due to its sheer size—or perhaps because she was deemed an enemy of the gods—the crystal had never been polished. Through its uneven, pitted surface, Bode glimpsed the outline of the legendary ancient giant.
She was more than twice as tall as modern giants, her skin faintly tinged red.
After thousands of years, her body showed no sign of decay.
It was as though she still lived.
"Ah—!"
"Boom!"
"Help—!"
From the corridor outside came faint goblin screams.
Bode's heart lurched.
Danger.
This chamber was clearly just a tomb. Aside from murals on the walls, there was no ancient magical knowledge here at all.
Then a voice thundered forth, like rolling thunder.
Though youthful in tone, it carried overwhelming authority that shook the soul.
"I am Dalton, son of Mani, grandson of Thor, bearer of the bloodline of the great All-Father Odin. You lowly slaves dare disturb my slumber!"
"I sentence you to death!"
In a Hogwarts classroom, Gilderoy Lockhart was performing with all his might.
He had dragged Bonnie Hanover onto the stage to reenact a scene from Wandering with Werewolves.
Audrey watched happily from below, applauding and cheering from time to time, drawing synchronized looks from the students around her.
They had already come to terms with the fact that this sixth-year superstar was retaking her O.W.L.s and attending classes with the fifth-years.
What truly astonished them was her open amusement at Lockhart's clownish performance.
Yet somehow, the professor didn't seem angry at all.
Angry?
Why would he be?
Lockhart was delighted.
Someone was applauding his little dramatization!
And not just anyone—Audrey Astre herself, a star whose fame nearly rivaled his own.
Receiving her applause was, in his mind, an absolute pleasure.
Even if her expression carried a hint of mockery.
But confidence bordering on delusion as he was, Lockhart never considered it mockery.
He had seen that look countless times—it was admiration. Yes, admiration for his talent, worship of his charm.
What a pity.
If not for the publisher's explicit warning that Audrey Astre was not someone he could afford to provoke, he might truly have hoped for something more between them.
What he didn't know was that the publishing house that once printed his books now bore the Astre name.
"Audrey!"
After class, Iselin hurried over from the Potions dungeon. "Let's go eat together!"
"Alright—"
Suddenly, warmth flared at Audrey's waist.
Edmund was calling her.
"Wait a moment, Iselin. I need to take care of something. Go to the Great Hall first—I'll join you shortly."
"Okay!"
Rip—
Back in the dormitory, Audrey opened the two-way mirror.
"Audrey, we have an update from the people tailing Bode Gray and Tethys."
"What could be so urgent?"
"There was a violent explosion inside the ruin they were exploring. So far, no one has emerged."
"They got themselves killed—why bother telling me?"
"That's not the important part. A boy around ten years old walked out of the ruin. From several kilometers away across the sea, he detected our surveillance team, casually fired a pillar of light, sank our ship, then took off into the air and vanished."
Audrey's pupils shrank.
"Casualties?"
"The crew jumped ship in time and survived, but the temperature of that beam was extremely high—the surrounding sea literally boiled. Our people are badly injured and are receiving treatment."
"Edmund, tell our people this: if they see that boy again, avoid him. Don't add pointless casualties."
Edmund nodded, then asked, "And the ruin?"
"What did Professor Grindelwald say?"
"He said you should decide."
"That old man—never lets me have a moment's peace," Audrey muttered. "Have the goblins from Heavenly Bank investigate it. As for the reason… excavation of ruins is their specialty."
Blond-haired, golden-eyed, and strikingly handsome, Dalton descended upon Oslo, triggering gasps among Muggles.
"Tch. So these are the descendants of Líf and Lífþrasir? Mortals are mortals—always making a fuss."
"Still," he mused as he strolled down the street, unconcerned by people photographing him, "for mere mortals to build such beautiful structures… that is somewhat surprising."
"Father's dwelling… Father's dwelling—ah, there!"
Dalton rose into the air and sped in one direction.
His destination was Oslo Cathedral.
Though the surroundings had changed beyond recognition compared to thousands of years ago, he could still sense his father's presence.
He landed before the cathedral.
Suddenly, the area dimmed, as if an invisible dome had sealed it off.
"Young man," a voice called out, "we are from the Norwegian Ministry of Magic. You have violated the International Statute of Secrecy. Please come with us."
Dalton turned around.
A murderous glint flashed through his golden eyes.
Mere mortal wizards—
How dare they challenge him?