"Brother, didn't you say… there was a treasure here?"
••┈┈┈┈┈༓┈┈┈┈┈•••
That was a hard question to answer.
No matter how Allen tried to lie to himself, there was no way he could call the stone coffin hidden beneath the slate floor a treasure.
Yes, after following the tunnel Voldemort had dug, and then digging even further using magic, Allen and Annie had finally arrived at a tomb chamber.
And it was completely empty.
Even though the chamber was decorated magnificently with carved stone walls and exquisitely detailed murals… none of that changed the reality, there was nothing here.
To put it simply… even a mouse would cry after coming in here.
Unwilling to give up, Allen searched the room again. Guided by the inheritance he had just regained, he eventually discovered a stone coffin buried beneath the floor of the main chamber, this was the only thing of value here.
Now came the question, should he open it?
Grave-robbing did feel morally questionable…
But hey, this was Voldemort's doing. Allen was just performing, um… emergency archaeological rescue.
Yes. That sounded perfectly reasonable.
…Still didn't feel right though.
Allen exhaled sharply and made up his mind. He turned to Annie seriously.
"Annie, take out the candles we got this morning. Light them."
The little girl did so obediently, placing the candle at one end of the coffin under Allen's direction.
Allen stared for a long time.
Then promptly waved his hand, snuffed the candle, rotated the coffin with a spell, and said:
"Here, kiddo. Light it on this side. There's less wind over here."
Annie: …
After awkwardly fumbling around for a while, Allen finally raised his shield, pointed his wand at the coffin lid, and cast a Levitation Charm.
The coffin opened.
No traps.
No glittering gold or jewels.
But there was something blinding,
Two male corpses, tightly locked in each other's arms, arms wrapped so firmly together it looked like not even the end of the world could separate them.
••┈┈┈┈┈༓┈┈┈┈┈•••
Sorry to disturb. We'll just… go,
Like hell he would.
Allen flicked his wand, and a golden tarot-like plate resting at the corner of the coffin flew into his hand, the very object that had been summoning Voldemort.
Too bad the system didn't want it.
He could probably sell it though. This whole trip had been expensive.
Just as Allen was considering that, a pale silver ghost suddenly emerged.
"Give it back!" the ghost shouted.
Allen nearly jumped, he hadn't sensed any presence at all.
Did I trigger a curse? A pharaoh's curse?
Allen tightened his grip on his wand, scanning the surroundings with the corner of his eye.
But nothing happened.
Just the ghost.
"Give it back! Please… return his belonging to him!" Silver tears streamed from the ghost's eyes.
…This script feels off.
Shouldn't the guardian boss charge at him like a mad beast and start a fight?
Why was this one going for emotional breakdown and tears?
Who did he think he was, a royal uncle in a palace drama?
"Please… give it back. I cannot live without him. I have waited for him for thousands of years… you can't take this from me!"
…Actually kind of interesting.
Allen decided not to destroy him immediately. Might as well hear the story.
Annie even had enough time to set up a tea set and brew black tea,
Which made Allen seriously wonder just how much bizarre junk she kept in her bag.
The story really was dramatic though.
The ghost, in life, had been one of the Pharaoh's guards. The other corpse was the High Priest. Under the strange atmosphere of those ancient days, their friendship had… progressed.
However, later the High Priest met someone he should not have met,
The Pharaoh's wife.
The story afterward was full of betrayal and heartbreak. The Pharaoh, upon learning of the affair, ordered his loyal guard, the same lover, to kill the High Priest.
The guard confessed his love to the Pharaoh.
In the end, he poisoned himself and the one he loved, choosing to die together.
The Pharaoh honored his promise and buried them together so they would never be separated,
But as punishment, placed their coffin deep below the tomb.
It was a story full of drama, tragedy, loyalty, betrayal, and love, dripping with emotion, and Allen and Annie enjoyed their tea and snacks thoroughly while listening.
When the story ended, Allen suddenly asked:
"Hey, so where's your Pharaoh's corpse?"
"I don't know. It was taken away a few hundred years ago, by people speaking the same language as you. I learned your language by reading one of their memories."
So likely vampires took it. They were collectors.
"And how did your Pharaoh die?"
"That bitch Henna poisoned him! I told him that woman was no good! Only our love was eternal!"
••┈┈┈┈┈༓┈┈┈┈┈•••
You win.
"All right. I've told you everything. Will you return his belonging now?" The ghost asked hopefully.
"Oh, that? Of course not. When did I ever say I would?"
Allen looked sincerely surprised, as if the ghost had just said something absurd.
Return it?
From the moment Allen touched it, it was already his.
If the ghost wanted it back, he could dream.
"You can't do this! Wizard, that was my beloved's possession! You have no right to take it!"
The ghost grew agitated, then suddenly softened.
"…Fine. Then take me with you. My body lies with his, and my spirit is tied to the object he cherished. I believe you will need someone like me."
"Mm-hmm. Sure. Come here first, we'll talk after."
Allen reached into his bag and took out a green lantern.
"No!" The ghost screamed, but he was too close.
The lantern sucked him in instantly.
"Brother, that ghost really was stupid… He didn't even realize he looked exactly like the High Priest."
"Probably because there aren't mirrors in tombs. But yes, I could feel his power earlier, he really messed up his emotional defense."
"But Brother, why didn't you trick him into teaching you some ancient spells? He's thousands of years old, he must know a lot."
"No need. Too risky. Also… the most important reason."
Allen tossed the golden tarot plate in his hand, feeling its comforting weight.
Then he spoke the second half of his thought:
"Because he was shoving dog food in my face."