In these ancient ruins, valuable items were frequently unearthed. This inventory included massive amounts of antique relics, ancient documents, magical materials, and even lost spells or forgotten alchemy tools. Even if the items were ordinary artifacts, they remained priceless within the wizarding world, to say nothing of objects infused with active magical properties. Consequently, a large number of foreign explorers flocked to Egypt under the guise of archaeology, though they invariably employed standard tomb-raiding methods.
Over a century ago, a group of these tomb raiders exploring an underground pyramid accidentally triggered a terrifying plague curse within the ruins. The contagion eventually breached the containment of the site and spread into Egyptian Muggle society, initiating a large-scale epidemic that resulted in the deaths of many innocent Muggles and a small number of wizards.
Such a severe crisis immediately drew the direct intervention of the Egyptian Ministry of Magic. In response, authorities passed the Ancient Tombs and Relics Development and Protection Act, severely cracking down on tomb raiding and unauthorized excavations. The law restricted all exploration to authorized official institutions or sanctioned groups, strictly prohibiting small teams or individuals from acting independently.
As a result, current ancient ruins were developed jointly by the Egyptian Alchemy Research Center and other official entities, the most prominent of which was Gringotts. The goblins possessed immense wealth and resources, allowing them to recruit excellent Curse-Breakers for the excavations, and the treasures and rare materials harvested from the sands were countless.
However, where there are strict regulations, there will always be individuals who attempt to circumvent them. Although official agencies explicitly prohibited independent digging, tomb raiding continued despite repeated bans. Egypt's status as a major trading hub with a massive floating population meant many desperate wizards were willing to take the risk to try and get rich quick.
In the black market corridors, numerous vendors were currently offering similar artifacts. The owners of these stalls would invariably swear that the antiques, relics, or materials on display were genuine. Alan observed the displays with interest for a brief moment, but he quickly grew disappointed. Most of the items in these wizards' possession were clear fabrications.
One vendor was shouting loudly that his scroll contained valuable data recently extracted from an unknown pyramid, recording a portion of a lost spell. The parchment he displayed looked appropriately weathered, featuring peeling text written in Ancient Runes that most passing wizards couldn't comprehend.
However, to Alan's expert eyes, the ancient material was full of flaws. The leather used for the scroll was clearly specially treated Tebo warthog hide—a magical creature he knew intimately as a staple manufacturing material. Furthermore, the runes inscribed across the pages were utter nonsense; it was a cheap counterfeit that had simply been artificially aged.
Yet, even such trash was considered higher quality compared to the surrounding merchandise. After the vendor shouted for a few minutes, a passing wizard actually spent ten Galleons to purchase the fake scroll, leaving Alan temporarily speechless.
He had no intention of exposing the fraud. It was none of his business, and he didn't want to provoke an unnecessary scene when he still needed to focus on his primary objective. Following the tracker signal for Sphinx, Alan navigated toward the edge of the temple structure, which housed a two-story tavern building. Sphinx's coordinates placed him directly inside.
Alan walked straight through the entrance. He wasn't sure how long the alchemist would remain at the site, and he couldn't afford to waste the opportunity. The tavern was the only proper building within the black market grid, and its interior decoration was surprisingly luxurious—certainly a step above the Leaky Cauldron in London.
In a prominent position near the center of the room, a magical phonograph was playing a melodious track, flanked by a few familiar atmosphere lamps and mood lights. Alan hadn't expected his own products to achieve such a wide circulation so quickly, even penetrating the local syndicates. The room was bustling with patrons, and the presence of foreign wizards suggested the legal conference was driving traffic to the illicit sectors as well.
Alan weaved through the crowd, carefully searching for any visual sign of Sphinx, but after circling the ground floor, the man remained out of sight. However, his sweep yielded an unexpected discovery.
*Martin Grenville? Why is he here?* Alan frowned slightly, spotting the hotel owner tucked away in a corner of the bar.
Although Thunderbird had stated that Martin had severed ties with the Acolytes, Alan remained wary of him. In his estimation, the man was still a volatile variable, which was why he had been slipping out of the lodging discreetly all day to avoid detection.
Martin was sitting quietly in the shadow of the booth, nursing a drink. Alan noticed his eyes constantly scanning the room, keeping a vigilant watch on his surroundings. Before long, Martin abandoned his glass and walked toward the stairs as if nothing had happened.
The stairs were guarded by hired muscle, preventing general access to the upper floor. Suspecting Sphinx was upstairs, Alan deployed a surveillance spider, directing the coin-sized device to climb along the architecture. Martin produced an object to show the guards and was immediately permitted to pass. Alan directed the spider to follow closely behind him. Whether he was tracking Sphinx or uncovering Martin's secrets, the connection was highly significant.
As the spider breached the second floor, the layout came into focus. The upper level was divided into discrete private rooms. Martin walked straight to a door at the end of the hall and knocked.
"Who is it?" a cautious voice questioned from within.
"Me," Martin responded indifferently.
The door swung open, and through the spider's optics, Alan identified the occupant: it was Sebastian, the Sphinx he had been tracking.
After ensuring Martin was alone, Sebastian let him inside. Alan directed the spider to slip through the threshold before the door clicked shut. The floor was covered in a thick carpet with intricate patterns, providing excellent cover for the small device as it nestled into the room.
"Why did you contact me so suddenly? Didn't you say Thunderbird was in Egypt? Meeting like this is far too careless," Martin grumbled, clearly dissatisfied.
Alan's interest shifted instantly. *This is getting interesting. Martin knows about Thunderbird, which means he understands the internal structure of the Silver Spears. His connection to Sebastian is far more complicated than a simple past acquaintance.*
Sebastian, still wearing his standard researcher's robes, replied casually, "Thunderbird should have concluded his business and left the country by now. Besides, I know his character; with his level of arrogance, he wouldn't bother tracking my movements."
"Is that so?" Martin countered with a sneer. "Then why didn't he just ignore me when he tried to take my head before?"
"He didn't go through with it, did he? I wouldn't allow him to cause chaos in my territory," Sebastian said reassuringly.
"Have you only known that lunatic for a single day? You should remain careful. One day he'll lose his mind completely and turn his wand on you—their ideals aren't the same as yours anyway." Martin frowned, adjusting his posture. "Why did he suddenly surface in Egypt? I thought he was permanently stationed in Britain."
"He came to settle a personal score." Sebastian glanced toward the door. "His target was a young British wizard named Alan. He's staying at your establishment, if I recall."
"The young wizard with the dog? I haven't seen him in two days," Martin noted.
"I doubt you'll ever see him again," Sebastian said, shaking his head. "Thunderbird held an intense grudge against the boy, likely due to his operational failures back in Britain. The club's strategy in that region suffered massive losses, and Thunderbird is incredibly defensive about the experience, refusing to speak on it."
"Is that so? The young man seemed perfectly polite. I didn't expect him to be removed by Thunderbird so easily. That man is becoming more unstable by the day. It seems you were right—the Silver Spears is a breeding ground for rot."
"I told you long ago, the current club bears no resemblance to the organization during the Acolytes era. The system is becoming increasingly pathological, inviting unnecessary complications, and our old comrades are growing completely indifferent." Sebastian paused, looking directly at Martin. "Are you truly unwilling to reconsider? Join the Silver Spears and assist me. I require your strength. Rune Serpent's appetite is expanding; beyond his obsession with immortality, he is beginning to covet true political power."
"I have no desire to become a half-human, half-ghost," Martin stated firmly, shaking his head. "I am perfectly content running a quiet establishment and living out the rest of my days normally." He looked at Sebastian with concern. "Since your heart is no longer with the club, why don't you simply walk away?"