Chapter 43
Albert had drawn up a detailed schedule for the summer holiday, determined to make the most of his time. His goal was to master the spells he had discovered in the family library—especially the intricate piercing spell, of which he had already completed the first two levels.
He decided that during the first week of each summer month, he would dedicate himself entirely to advancing the piercing spell, knowing how time-consuming and demanding it was just to complete a single level. The remaining days would be spent studying other enchantments, such as the Revelation Charm, as well as the mysterious Basilisk Language Book, in which he felt he had made modest but promising progress.
Albert never approached the Basilisk Language Book without a heavy sense of caution and unease. He was acutely aware of the dangers that lurked within its pages—dangers that could quite literally lead to death if he wasn't exceptionally careful.
In the early days of studying the book, he had been overwhelmed by a dark, foreboding feeling each time he turned its pages. More than once, he had considered destroying it altogether.
But then he remembered the potential power that mastering the serpent's tongue could bring.
First and foremost, understanding the Basilisk language would allow him to communicate with the creature itself—and perhaps even befriend it. Becoming its enemy would become far less likely. Moreover, this ancient tongue might hold the key to deciphering the secrets left behind by Salazar Slytherin in the Chamber of Secrets.
With that in mind, Albert poured all his focus and effort into learning the Basilisk language alongside the piercing spell.
After two months of summer, his attention was not solely on his magical studies. He also kept up with his school assignments, knowing full well that failing to complete them would bring serious consequences.
One day, after finishing his homework, Albert suddenly remembered something important—something he had completely forgotten.
"My God! How could I have forgotten something so crucial?" he exclaimed.
Without hesitation, he dashed out of his room and appeared in his father's study.
Using a Disillusionment Charm, Albert revealed the hidden entrance to the cellar. He opened the door and descended with purpose etched into his expression.
At the bottom of the cellar, the scene remained unchanged from his first visit.
Before him stood a massive black chest—the legendary family vault overflowing with gold and treasures. Atop the chest rested a thick, jet-black book, bound with cords of red and gold thread.
Albert hurried over and grabbed the book.
He opened it to the center, only to find incomprehensible symbols scrawled across the pages—resembling the script from the Basilisk language book.
Albert whispered in Parseltongue, "Syrianus." ("Reveal.")
As the word left his lips, a faint wisp of smoke rose from the page, and the symbols slowly morphed into legible English text.
Albert began to read:
> "If you can read these words and have reached this page, then you are worthy of what I'm about to share. Listen closely!"
> "There was once a great societal war between two opposing factions, each fighting over a powerful idea. The two sides could not reconcile their differences, and so a civil war broke out—one that eventually gave rise to what we now call wizards."
> "I cannot tell you what the idea was that sparked this terrible war, but suffice it to say, it was dangerous enough to threaten the world itself. After the war ended and the world slowly began to heal from the bloodshed that claimed thousands of lives, a dark figure emerged—one who detested peace and desired nothing but the subjugation of mankind."
> "His name was Tom Riddle."
Albert's heart skipped a beat. That name… how did the author know of him?
> "It was his childhood—his trauma—that bred the hatred and twisted ideology that grew inside him."
> "But I stopped him. I defeated him."
> "Or so I thought. He escaped… and returned stronger than before."
> "What made Tom truly dangerous was his invention of a spell known as The Killing Curse. This curse rendered my resistance and that of my allies meaningless—we were nothing more than insects before him."
> "After our defeat, I devoted myself entirely to finding a way to defend against this horrific magic."
> "Years later, after tireless research and the accumulation of forbidden knowledge, I created a technique known as Adava Davakra—a defensive spell that could shield one's soul even after being struck by the Killing Curse."
> "Although this spell is powerful, it does come with a cost: anyone who uses it will enter a coma lasting ten minutes after being hit. During that time, it will seem as if they are dead, but they will awaken—alive and protected."
> "However, as the creator of the spell, I was able to survive the Killing Curse without falling into a coma."
> "Even so… I was defeated again."
> "I returned to square one, desperate to discover how to finally vanquish this monster who would one day destroy the world."
> "But all my efforts failed. That is why I've written everything here in this book—in the hope that one of my descendants from the noble House of Black might finish what I began."
> "To you, the one reading this now… you are the chosen one. I believe with all my heart that you will fulfill this mission. Save the world from him."
At the bottom of the page, a name was signed:
Michael Black.
Albert stared at the final words, his heart pounding, the weight of destiny settling over him like a cloak.
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