Salazar Slytherin's piercing gaze fell on Emrys. "You're looking for Father Lockhart, right? Then go ahead first," he said coolly, his voice carrying a subtle edge. "Meet me in the dungeon later."
Dana's ears caught the single word, "me," instead of "us," and a flicker of confusion crossed his mind. Was Slytherin implying something deeper? Godric Gryffindor, noticing Dana's puzzled expression, chuckled heartily, his laughter echoing through the cavernous hall.
"I told you already," Gryffindor said, clapping his hands together with enthusiasm, "I'll act as the bait! I'll unleash the Murdock Phantom Array to sow chaos in the Tribunal. You three just focus on your task; leave me be. Don't worry about me, I can handle it."
With a few sweeping gestures, Gryffindor added more Disillusionment Charms, his hands moving with a practiced elegance, then activated the Phantom Array. In an instant, dozens of phantoms materialized before them—green-haired, red-robed Gryffindors, their presence simultaneously surreal and intimidating.
Gryffindor paused, placing a hand on his forehead as he laughed louder than before. "Hahaha! This is perfect! Salazar, we have to do this every morning—I can't normally achieve this shade of green!"
"Idiot!" Slytherin hissed, eyes narrowing. Without another word, he transformed into a sleek viper and slithered effortlessly toward the Tribunal.
Dana watched the gleeful Gryffindor, who expertly manipulated the phantoms, sending them surging into the heart of the Tribunal. With calm precision, Dana cast a Disillusionment Charm on himself and followed.
Inside the Tribunal, chaos erupted. Gryffindor's phantoms charged at the witch hunters and the formidable members of the Hunter Knight Order. Slytherin's warnings had been reasonable: the Knight Order was composed entirely of skilled wizards. Each one, Dana estimated, was at least four to five times as powerful as a standard wizard like Lucius, and every member was heavily equipped.
Though they weren't wearing Mantle of Turin armor, their gear was no less impressive. Intricately carved with dense defensive runes and armed with powerful alchemical weapons, their armor would deflect ordinary attacks with ease. If the numbers had been greater, even Godric and Salazar—whose power rivaled three or four Dumbledores—might have faced serious danger.
Yet, the current spectacle was mesmerizing. Gryffindor's green-haired, red-robed phantoms pressed relentlessly against the Knight Order.
The phantoms had no physical form. They were invulnerable to any attack, while Godric's skill in combining swordsmanship and magic proved unmatched. Even in spectral form, each of his magical slashes moved with deadly precision, coordinating flawlessly with his War Magic. With dozens of such phantoms, the Tribunal was facing a nearly unstoppable force.
The only caveat was the Murdock Phantom Array. Its location had to remain undiscovered; otherwise, all of Gryffindor's creations could be dispelled. Still, Dana noted the brilliance of the setup—the phantoms alone could maintain pressure indefinitely, a testament to Gryffindor's unparalleled strategic mind.
The Knight Order was quick to adapt, erecting defensive barriers using their alchemical expertise. While the phantoms could draw on ambient magic to cast spells, the barriers significantly weakened their attacks. Though the initial surge caused heavy casualties, the phantoms couldn't break through the barriers entirely.
Dana allowed himself a nod of approval. Even if his current magical strength exceeded the Tribunal's forces, the Four Founders' reputation for prowess was well-earned. Observing Gryffindor's tactics closely, he considered requesting some dueling tips later.
Silently, Dana moved deeper into the Tribunal, leaving the battle behind. With a flick of his wand, he captured a priest under the Imperio Curse, quickly extracting the location of Father Lockhart.
The corridor twisted and turned like a labyrinth, yet Dana navigated it without hesitation. Soon, he arrived at an isolated chamber, its door more elaborate than the others. Brass inlays caught the dim light, and intricate carvings adorned the doorknob—signs that its occupant held high status within the Tribunal.
Dana pushed the door open. Inside, a young priest lounged comfortably, absorbed in a book. In his left hand, he held a goblet filled with a red liquid, possibly wine, the golden vessel inlaid with rubies gleaming in the dim light.
Dana froze, stunned by the uncanny resemblance. The same golden hair, the same dazzling smile. Could this really be an ancestor of Gilderoy Lockhart?
Father Lockhart, oblivious to Dana's presence, continued reading. Yet, the moment a beam of light erupted from the gem on his goblet, Dana was revealed.
"Apareciym!" The Revealing Charm caught him off guard, but before Lockhart could react further, Dana's finger emitted a red light, binding him instantly.
Dana approached, his eyes cold and calculating. With a swift incantation, he imposed the Imperio Curse.
"Imperio!" The spell took hold immediately. Even under the curse, Lockhart's face retained a flicker of his characteristic smile, a trait Dana wondered might be hereditary.
"Tell me everything about the Avar Coven," Dana commanded, his voice unwavering.
Lockhart swayed slightly, a grin revealing perfect white teeth, yet his fear was palpable. "The Avar Coven was founded during King Arthur's era by Morgan le Fay, Arthur's sister. It was based on Avalon, and the name 'Avar' references the golden apples of Avalon. For reasons unknown, the coven was later exiled from the island. Morgan le Fay disappeared after imprisoning the legendary Merlin, and the coven vanished from history…"
Dana's expression remained neutral. Though informative, the description mirrored what he already knew from Merlin's accounts. It was insufficient for his immediate needs.
Lockhart continued, his voice tinged with conjecture. "In my estimation, the Avar Coven didn't vanish entirely. They continued under a different name, hiding within the church. About ten years ago, nuns from Folkestone Nunnery studied an ancient well hidden deep within this Tribunal for six months, searching for a path to Avalon. If the Avar Coven still exists, Folkestone Nunnery is highly suspicious. Consider this: despite Viking invasions, Folkestone has remained a bastion of peace for centuries, more stable than London. Such tranquility implies powerful, unseen forces."
Dana's mind raced. A hidden coven operating within the church could explain many mysteries. His attention zeroed in on the ancient well. The location of St. Paul's Cathedral had been a megalithic array, possibly serving as an entrance to Avalon itself. Lockhart's speculation was plausible, and Dana knew he would visit Folkestone Nunnery soon.
But first, he needed to meet Rowena Ravenclaw. Wisdom personified, the Hogwarts founder might offer insights that Lockhart could not.
Dana's demeanor shifted, a calm, strategic patience replacing the urgency that had gripped him upon leaving prison. He observed Lockhart once more. This traitorous wizard still possessed valuable knowledge, and retaining him could prove advantageous in the future.
With a controlled exhale, Dana transformed into a shimmering blue light. Slowly, effortlessly, he merged with Lockhart's body—an inheritance of Merlin's bloodline magic: Possession.
Inside Lockhart, Dana felt the residual magic and hidden reserves of power, the intricate patterns of his mind and memories. Control had been assumed, yet Dana's consciousness remained distinct, analyzing, planning, and preparing.
The battle outside continued, Gryffindor's phantoms wreaking havoc, while Dana quietly consolidated knowledge. The traces of the Avar Coven had appeared at last, and with this revelation, the next step in his plan was clear.
The past, the present, and the hidden future all converged in that room. Dana was no longer just a seeker—he was a strategist, a tactician, a silent force moving through a chaotic world of wizards, knights, and ancient magic.
And with the Avar Coven's shadow looming ever closer, the real hunt had only just begun.
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