Harry Potter and the Secret Treasures - H.P.S.T Chapter 1667: Death

It must be admitted that Evan’s initial plan wasn’t particularly complex.

Since the Dark Witch was leading many wizards in this area, searching for the spell that could open the Veil of Death, Evan had intended to slip in among them, using Polyjuice Potion to disguise himself as one of the Raven’s Claw Dark wizards, find Harry, and take him away. And if possible, sabotage the Dark Witch’s equipment and destroy those ancient ruins.

When it came to using magic to create massive explosions, Evan was very confident in his abilities.

He didn’t need to sacrifice a finger or arm like Wormtail; Evan had other ways of achieving the same effect.

He had done similar operations many times before; years ago, in the Italian Giants’ Territory, he had defeated the Raven’s Claw wizards in much the same manner.

But the situation before him was somewhat different from what Evan had anticipated. The Dark forces in this land were far too powerful.

Whatever terrible curse or Dark magic had been unleashed here had left marks that could not be erased. Even after a thousand years, death still shrouded this place.

The further forward Evan went, the more clearly he could sense the ominous aura.

Having wandered so long in the wasteland, he hadn’t seen a single trace of life, let alone the Dark wizards of Raven’s Claw.

All the Dark wizards Evan had seen in Bellatrix’s memories had vanished.

Darkness enveloped everything, obscuring the light; he couldn’t even tell if he was moving forward or circling in place.

It seemed as if terrifying monsters might leap from the darkness at any moment, ready to pounce on Evan, and the darkness itself seemed intent on devouring him. The stench of decay and death grew stronger; Evan even tasted a thick, metallic blood in his mouth — the flavor of whatever he had breathed in earlier.

He didn’t know what it was, but whatever it was clearly wanted him dead.

Now he could even feel his own life ebbing away.

That might be an illusion, but it was no good omen. And beyond illusions, Evan could distinctly sense the strange, thick, oppressive force in the air suppressing his magical power. He had only experienced this a few times in his life, and each time it had been tied to an unpleasant memory.

This meant only one thing, something Evan least wanted to encounter: the possessor of the powerful force on this land was a being far superior to Evan in every way.

“Damn it, it’s magic from the previous age again. What kind of trouble this thing might cause?” Evan grumbled, rubbing at his temples.

He had originally thought that such things no longer existed in Britain, only in places like Greece and Egypt, where ancient ruins abounded. Those powerful ancient sorcerers, magical creatures, or even the old gods, even though they were thousands of years gone, the magic they left behind could still affect the present day.

But something was different this time. Evan could sense another strange force as well, calling out to him.

It was a different kind of power, independent of evil forces, very peculiar.

Equally ancient, but not so evil; at least it didn’t want to kill Evan.

As he got closer to the core area, Evan finally realized that the force wasn’t calling out to him — it was calling out to something on him.

Soon, he confirmed it: it was Ravenclaw’s Diadem!

When Evan took out Ravenclaw’s Diadem, the gems on it emitted a faint glow, something that had never been seen before.

Although he had obtained the complete Diadem of Wisdom from Lady Ravenclaw long ago, he had never once used it.

After all, to gain absolute wisdom, one had to pay the corresponding price.

Lady Ravenclaw’s advice still echoed in his ears: the power of the Diadem was not merely a gift, nor simply a symbol of honor; it was a cursed power, known only to true sages, yet utterly useless to them.   

‘Wit beyond measure is man’s greatest treasure, yet few truly understand its meaning.’

The radiant gems shimmered with light, and the surrounding darkness surged.

The appearance of Ravenclaw’s Diadem had shattered the balance between the Dark curse saturating this land and that strange, ancient force!

Evan sensed the change; he gasped, hesitated for a moment, and then placed the Diadem on his head.

The next second, a streak of sky-blue ripped through the endless darkness, bringing to this land of death a color it had been waiting a thousand years to see.

…………………………………………………………………

At the same moment, Harry was gasping violently, feeling as if he could barely breathe.

The raven that had flown to him moments ago had vanished; Harry couldn’t be sure it hadn’t simply been his imagination.

His scar began to ache again. A vision swept across his sight, and he was once more in that high-tower prison room.

Voldemort had stopped torturing the old wizard; only the thin, ragged breaths of the skeletal figure remained.

But the Cruciatus Curse had not broken him; he raised his head and calmly gazed at Voldemort.

“You understand nothing, Voldemort. You think you’ve gained power, but you’ve lost something crucial.”

“I don’t need such weakness. I am stronger than you, stronger than Dumbledore, stronger than any wizard — that’s enough,” said Voldemort coldly. “Dumbledore is dead, and you’re about to join him, while I remain alive, ready to reshape this world. Once I acquire that power, the world will tremble at my feet, the existing order will crumble beneath my wrath, all life will be destroyed, and in my shadow, all things will turn to ashes, and I will become immortal.”

“Ha ha ha!” The old wizard laughed toothlessly.

Rage boiled within Voldemort, and Harry felt an agony in his scar like nothing he had ever experienced; he knew Voldemort had reached his limit.

“Kill me, then, Voldemort!” demanded the old man, his mockery finished. “You will not win, you cannot win! You will not get any information from me — the magic, the place, the wand — none of it. This world will never, ever be yours.”

Voldemort stared coldly at him and raised his wand once more.

Once again, a burst of green light filled the prison room and the frail old body was lifted from its hard bed and then fell back, lifeless.

Voldemort returned to the window, his wrath barely controllable. …

………………………………………………………………….

Evan put on the Diadem, and the next second, the scene before him completely changed.

A freezing chill poured out from the Diadem, seeping into Evan’s mind.

A strange power wrapped around him; every emotion drained away from him, and in their place he gained absolute clarity — cold, emotionless wisdom.

At that moment, he no longer seemed to be Evan Mason.

Translating_Wizard

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