At this moment, Boderick's mind could no longer hold any more Ancient Magic, nor did he think about the glorious future of Goblins ruling and enslaving wizard women after defeating Wizards.
All he wanted was to escape this hell.
And that was exactly what he did.
He frantically fled toward the entrance of the vault. In his haste, he stepped on an arm and stumbled. But he did not even bother getting up. Instead, he used both hands and feet, which was not difficult for a Goblin whose arms nearly dragged along the ground, crawling forward like a stray dog with its tail tucked between its legs.
Afraid he was moving too slowly, Boderick crawled while fumbling to remove his heavy armor.
Behind him, the Goblins were still fighting.
He did not dare make a sound. If they realized he had turned into a fleeing rat, they would abandon their battle with the knights and tear him to shreds.
He knew the cruelty of Goblins better than anyone.
In a pitiful state, he finally approached the bronze door. A tragic smile appeared on his face as he reached out toward the narrow metal door.
It truly was the narrow gate of salvation from the Bible.
He could almost see an invisible light shining beyond it. As long as he passed through, he would be saved.
But just as his fingertips were about to touch the door, it closed.
The smile on Boderick's face had not even had time to fade. He froze, staring at the handsome wizard standing before him, smiling faintly.
A low mechanical rumble echoed from within the metal door. It was nearly drowned out by the thunderous sounds of battle, yet to Boderick, it rang unbearably sharp.
"Where are you going, Mr. Goblin?" Elijah asked coldly.
The light in Boderick's heart went out.
"Sir, please…"
Without hesitation, he dropped to his knees before Elijah, his face full of desperate pleading. He stretched out his hand, trying to grab Elijah's trousers, but Elijah stepped back.
He had no intention of letting filthy insects touch him.
"Good night, sir."
Elijah flicked his wand. Boderick's head twisted violently to the side.
Crack.
His cervical spine shattered instantly.
Elijah felt no sympathy. He was not killing an innocent. This was a war between races.
His golden eyes turned toward the battlefield inside the vault. The Goblins had already fallen into bloodlust, while the knights' repair magic continued to consume their reserves as it triggered again and again.
Eventually, fewer than one in ten Goblins remained. Their will to fight had completely collapsed. More importantly, some had already realized that their leader had disappeared at some unknown moment.
They began to retreat.
Even though the knights were heavily damaged, many still seemed bound by lingering curses. Their shattered bodies reassembled, only to advance a few steps before collapsing again, scattering like blocks after their support was removed.
At last, silence fell. The flickering light dimmed, and darkness descended once more.
But this time, Elijah would illuminate it with fire.
"Fiendfyre."
The flames gathered in his palm, the once-unruly Fiendfyre now as docile as a harmless cat.
But when Elijah tilted his hand, the fire poured down like molten lava. In an instant, it revealed its true, terrifying nature. Shapes within the flames writhed and roared in silence.
Under Fiendfyre, neither knights nor Goblins could escape being reduced to ash. Whether it was the indistinguishable remains or the Goblins clawing at their own flesh in the fire, everything was eventually erased.
Elijah stepped through the flames, following a flowing trail that guided him forward.
The path stretched into the deepest darkness, the only guide to the true vault.
He walked slowly ahead.
On both sides, identical white pillars stood in endless rows, making the surroundings dizzying. When Elijah looked back, the battlefield had already vanished into the darkness.
Everything looked the same, impossible to distinguish.
Without the ability to perceive traces of Ancient Magic, even someone who defeated the knights would become lost here.
But for Elijah, it was nothing more than a maze with a clearly marked path.
He walked for a long time before stopping in front of a massive three-dimensional spiral symbol. Raising his wand, he tapped it lightly.
The symbol melted into the ground like mercury, then surged upward again, reshaping itself into a door.
The true vault finally revealed itself.
Elijah stepped through and entered a magnificent hall.
It was vast and circular, its towering walls covered in intricate and ornate carvings, making it resemble a grand cathedral more than a vault.
The architecture alone, if even a fragment were taken, would probably be enough to fund a trip to Africa for the Weasley family.
But what truly captured Elijah's attention was not this superficial wealth, but knowledge and power.
He stepped onto the solid floor that rippled like water. At the center of the hall, where magic flowed most intensely, was what appeared to be a pool. In truth, it was a Pensieve.
Within it lay a silvery substance capable of revealing memories. Above it floated the memories of the four guardians.
At first glance, it seemed nothing special.
After all, even the simplest wizard could perform a Levitation Charm.
That was, if one ignored the fact that the four guardians had been dead for hundreds of years.
Normally, when a spellcaster died, their magic would fade as well.
After the Potters died, the Fidelius Charm weakened. After Voldemort's defeat, his curse on the Defense Against the Dark Arts position weakened; it didn't fully disappear, but that was because Voldemort wasn't completely dead. When the caster vanished, the magic lost its source.
But there were exceptions. The most familiar example was Hogwarts itself.
This ancient castle had stood for a thousand years, while its founders had long since passed. Yet its magic remained intact to this day.
Either the castle itself was a product of Ancient Magic, or it possessed an immense magical source.
Or both.
Elijah did not know. But he knew that the secret of Ancient Magic now lay before him, and this time, no one would interrupt him.
"The guardians went to such lengths, setting up so many trials. Surely it was not just to protect a worthless memory."
He picked up the delicate vial floating above the Pensieve and poured the silvery, mercury-like liquid into it.
The surface of the basin began to swirl into a vortex.
"Let me see your secret."