"Gotta hurry."
Ian took a deep breath and began exploring this bizarre space. The heart chamber was even larger than he'd imagined; his Lighting Spell could only illuminate a small area around him.
During his exploration, Ian found some rather shocking things—soon the light revealed objects scattered in the corners, forgotten traces belonging to the past.
In one corner, he found a set of golden Alchemy Tools, including a Crucible, a Distiller, and various vessels. But they were now covered with a layer of bio-membrane, tiny blood-vessel networks spreading over their surfaces. When Ian tried to touch them, the Crucible actually contracted slightly, resisting his touch like a living creature.
This was a pile of Alchemy Tools that had come to life and been twisted.
The bronze distillation flask had been squeezed out of shape, its body covered with grotesque fleshy buds.
The inner wall of the silver Crucible was covered in black, mold-like crystals; on the delicate balance scale, the weights and beam had long since melted, fused with the flesh below to form a grotesque sculpture. These tools, once used in pursuit of knowledge and transmutation, had now been utterly defiled, becoming vassals of the Evil God's flesh.
The scattered Alchemy Tools and Magic Items were not few. These had clearly once been treasures of the Sun Temple, yet now they'd all become things that, once used, would be corroded and polluted.
"What a waste."
Ian shook his head regretfully. "This set is at least Master Level work, the kind of thing that would make my dear uncle Snape jealous of me, and now it's like this."
Looking at these desecrated Hallows, a wave of sorrow and anger welled up in Ian's heart. But he did not give up. As a Legendary Wizard, repairing polluted Magic Items was one of his specialties.
"Maybe..." he muttered to himself, a professional glint flashing in his eyes. "After I get back, I'll use the 'Star Dust Purification Array' with the 'Ancient Egyptian Purification Spell,' then try some 'Reverse Alchemy'... slim chances, but better than total destruction. I can use it to raise my Alchemy Level as well."
He acted as soon as he thought of it.
Ian was practically born under the sign of gluttony.
Seeing treasure in front of him, even damaged treasure, he just couldn't help himself.
Forcing down his nausea, he carefully used his Magic Wand to pack the relatively intact tools and broken treasures one by one into a special Magic Bag inscribed with isolation runes.
"Take everything, waste not, want not—who knows which shard is the key."
Ian thought with some satisfaction, reminded of his bad habit back at Hogwarts of always picking up other people's discarded "junk" for research. Who said this wasn't one of his weaknesses?
Aside from these complete sets of tools,
Ian also found some other things.
A Scarab Protective Talisman inlaid with Lapis Lazuli and Red Agate; its gemstones had long since lost their luster, the surface covered in a slick slime. The scarab's form had been twisted by invading flesh buds, as if it might break out of its shell at any moment. There was also the remnant of a Scepter, its golden shaft broken, the Eye of Horus at the top replaced by a constantly opening and closing eyeball veined with blood.
And a Golden Cup meant to hold Holy Water: its body dented, its interior no longer clear water but slowly flowing dark purple pus that emitted a faint glow. The sacred aura belonging to the Sun God Ra or the Egyptian Gods that had once clung to these items had long since been completely overlaid and twisted by the Evil God's Power of Chaos and Devouring, reduced to symbols of evil.
Their power not only couldn't be used, it might even become a source of pollution.
"Though these things are polluted, their base materials and craftsmanship are all very valuable," Ian thought, his professional instincts kicking in. As he moved on, he found another Priest's Staff inlaid with gemstones. It should have radiated sunlight-like brilliance, but was now wrapped in black veins, the gemstone at its tip turned a turbid blood-red and twitching from time to time.
The most horrifying of all was a set of Sacrificial Daggers. Once used in holy rituals, they now looked like they were made of bone, tiny teeth growing along the blades, opening and closing with intermittent clicking sounds.
"They're all mine, all mine. I picked up what nobody wants." Ian constructed a piece of Space Equipment on the spot, to prevent his original collection from being contaminated.
In the Sun God's Temple Cellar—or rather, the Treasure Vault—the remaining polluted treasures were truly numerous. Ian took everything, and even a Priest's Robe hanging on the wall suddenly began to writhe, its originally gorgeous gold embroidery turning into squirming parasites, the gemstone decorations becoming blinking eyes.
He quickly finished scavenging almost everything.
A great heap of filthy Hallows.
Ian Prince made his way through the cellar with difficulty; the shockwaves of battle outside were growing more intense, the entire space rocking like a small boat in a storm.
The flesh walls contracted and relaxed violently, thick blood vessels occasionally bursting from energy overload, splattering scalding dark red fluid. The combined assault of Pluton Osiris and Isis had clearly put the Evil God under immense pressure; even here in the deep heart chamber one could feel that world-shattering clash of energies.
Of course.
Ian could also feel that as the battle went on, the Evil God was still constantly evolving. It was hard to say when the Pluton couple would no longer be able to suppress this ever-perfecting Evil God.
Infinite adaptation and evolution.
An outrageously exaggerated Divine Authority.
"I must find that key... fast." Ian muttered. The light from his Magic Wand wavered in the violently shaking environment; the Magic Power within him, suppressed and unable to fully reactivate, was nearly exhausted.
Just as Ian was about to lose hope, wondering if he'd misread the Pluton's intent, his gaze was suddenly drawn to a figure at the very back of the room—the deepest, darkest corner held a small figure curled up there, utterly out of place amid the surrounding horrors.
It was a boy of about seven or eight, dressed in a plain white linen tunic, sitting on the ground with his arms wrapped around his knees. His hair was a rare pale gold, his skin so white it was almost translucent.
The most striking thing was his eyes—large and clear, yet empty and dull, like those of a soulless doll.
"Another trick of the Evil God?" Ian tightened his grip on his Magic Wand, slowly approaching. When he was about ten steps from the boy, he stopped and carefully scrutinized this abrupt presence.
The boy seemed utterly unresponsive to Ian's arrival, merely remaining curled there, his empty gaze fixed straight ahead. His chest rose and fell slightly with the heart chamber's pulsing, but aside from that he almost didn't move.
"Hello?"
Ian called out tentatively, his Magic Wand ready to fire a Spell at any moment. The boy slowly lifted his head, those overly clear eyes turning toward Ian, yet without any focus.
"Who... are you?"
His voice was so soft as to be almost inaudible, bearing the characteristic softness of a child's tone, yet devoid of any emotional fluctuation.
"My name is Harry Potter. And you?" Ian replied cautiously, carefully watching every tiny reaction from the boy. He knew very well that when travelling, it was safer to use a classmate's name just in case.
In the world of Magic,
no one could say for sure what a true name signified. Especially in a place as ancient and strange as this. Though the Evil God already knew Ian's name, who could say whether this wasn't some sort of lure? Calling himself Harry Potter was perfectly fine; after all, the current Harry Potter hadn't even been born yet.
Even if some Curse demanding he acknowledge his true identity appeared,
it would hardly reach a few thousand years into the future.
"My name?"
The boy tilted his head, as if pondering the question.
"I... don't know." he finally whispered, his eyes still empty. "I don't remember."
Ian frowned. This could be yet another trick of the Evil God, using an apparently harmless form to lower his guard. But his instincts told him things weren't that simple.
"How did you end up here?"
Ian pressed on, while secretly casting several Detection Magic spells. To his surprise, all the magical feedback indicated that the boy before him was a real, living being.
Not an illusion, nor a split body.
The boy shook his head blankly. "I've always been here. Waiting... but I don't know what for."
Just then, the whole heart chamber trembled violently. The blood vessels in the ceiling suddenly ruptured, thick fluid pouring down like rain. Ian hastily cast a Protective Spell, but noticed that there seemed to be an invisible barrier around the boy; those filthy fluids evaporated a few inches from him.
"Interesting."
Ian narrowed his eyes. Such a self-protection mechanism was definitely not something an ordinary child could possess. As he cautiously stepped closer, he noticed a faint mark on the boy's chest, shaped like a rising sun, emitting a weak light. The mark stirred a strange sense of familiarity in Ian.
As if he'd seen it in some ancient text.