Behind them came a soft, gentle singing voice, Childish yet beautiful.
"The first-generation cheerleader, born early," Ian thought, but didn't look back.
He gripped his wand tightly. The temple remained utterly silent, as if it didn't care about their arrival. However, the moment the three of them paused before the massive doors, they rumbled loudly and began to open. A wave of ancient, mysterious air surged forth, accompanied by the creak of turning hinges.
In the stillness of the night, the sound was especially grating. The opening doorway, in the darkness, resembled a vast black hole, bottomless and unfathomable.
In this eerie atmosphere, it almost felt like the slowly widening entrance was extending a formal invitation to these uninvited guests, beckoning them deeper into the unknown and mysterious heart of the temple.
"This better not be some 'lure-the-guest-into-the-trap' trick," Ian muttered, but the true reckless one had already charged ahead, carrying Riddle and that giant sword, without a second thought.
"…"
Ian had no choice but to follow.
The instant he crossed the threshold, a bone-piercing chill shot up from the soles of his feet. The interior of the temple was far larger than it appeared from the outside.
Glowing runes covered the walls, writhing like living creatures and shifting their shapes. The floor was made of some pitch-black stone, and each step brought a faint tremor underfoot.
It felt as though the entire temple was alive.
"Where's Herpo?"
The reckless goddess glanced left and right, her eyes glowing like twin small suns in the gloom, providing Ian with more than enough light to borrow.
"The Plague!" Ian didn't hesitate.
He instantly unfolded his domain. Waves of green light spread from him in all directions, bubbling on the floor as though it were boiling.
"Heh…"
In the stillness of the temple, A note of mocking disdain echoed.
"It's him, Herpo!"
Riddle clutched his eyes in terror. A scorching heat flared within them, as though some power was devouring his soul, and visible black fissures began spreading across the skin around his eye sockets.
"Riddle, you truly haven't disappointed me." A hoarse voice sounded, as if it came from every direction at once.
"You're actually a traitor!" The reckless goddess tightened her grip around Riddle's neck.
Her entire body flared with light, brilliant golden radiance flooding every shadowed corner, illuminating the plague-covered temple in dazzling clarity.
And yet, it revealed no sign of Herpo.
"No! I'm not! I'm not a traitor!" Riddle frantically clawed at the goddess's hand with both of his own, but her grip was like an iron vice, impossible to break.
"Isn't it possible he's just being used?" Ian saw Riddle's eyes rolling back and could clearly sense the fear and grievance boiling inside him.
"Below! Below!"
Even as his breath came shallow, Riddle forced the words out. He sounded terrified, as if something unspeakable was near. Ian glanced down, and saw that beneath the Plague's glow, a black shadow was lurking.
"What is that?!"
Ian immediately tried to manipulate the Plague, urging it forward to engulf the shadow. But it was as though it didn't exist, magic couldn't touch it at all.
"Damn! It's the Silent Wraiths!!" The goddess looked down to see a few drifting black wisps near her own feet and gasped in disbelief.
Almost by reflex, she leapt straight into the air.
"…"
Ian followed suit, darting skyward as well.
"What the hell is this thing?!"
Ian unleashed Fiendfyre, blending it with the Plague, but even that couldn't harm the shadows in the slightest. It was as though they weren't in the same dimension as him or this world.
"They're a special form of life, feeding on memories and secrets. Anyone they touch will be pulled into a dream, their hidden memories laid bare, even secrets they themselves may have long forgotten."
The reckless goddess's voice held clear tension.
"You're a goddess, afraid of a magical creature?" Ian was baffled. Even if this was only an avatar of her will, her divine rank was still divine.
Hearing the little wizard's doubt, The goddess gave a smile uglier than tears.
"Guess where these creatures were born?" She still wanted to play the riddle game at a time like this.
"Can't you just say it straight! Put me down! No, get me out of here!" Riddle, still held aloft, screamed at the top of his lungs.
Seeing the black shadows spreading across the surrounding walls, he no longer cared about offending any so-called god, his soul was quaking with dread and danger.
"To put it simply, gods can get sick too. And these creatures are born from a god's sickness. You could think of them as a kind of virus, nourished by the body of a god."
"I can be infected too!" the goddess's voice rose in panic. "If the Silent Wraiths cling to me, they can devour my memories and twist the past and future, twist the entire flow of history itself! That's their most terrifying power, they can alter stories that have already been set in stone!"
As she spoke, Her light grew so blinding Ian almost had to shield his eyes.
She truly did look worried.
"Apparate! Hurry! Apparate!" Riddle shouted, more frightened by the second. He had never seen such a magical creature in his life, and his voice cracked as he yelled to Ian.
"We can't Apparate… we sealed the temple…" the goddess's voice was faint, tinged with guilt. And the moment her words fell, laughter echoed from all around.
"Looks like his target isn't me or Riddle, it's you." Ian saw the most Silent Wraiths gathering near the goddess, instantly realizing Herpo's true intent.
This guy… wants to kill a god, or steal something that belongs to one.
"Think of something!" Ian shouted at the rather useless goddess while swinging his wand. At its tip, silver light flared, and Ariana's Patronus form began to take shape.
This move did work. The Silent Mists around him were forced back a bit by the light of the Patronus. However, The Silent Mists on the side of the Brash Goddess didn't decrease at all; instead, they multiplied.
"No! That's not a Patronus!" The Brash Goddess realized that her giant beacon of light was no match for the faint glow at the tip of Ian's wand, and she looked at him in utter shock.
Of course, Seeing more and more Silent Mists gathering around her, the Brash Goddess didn't have the time to pry into Ian's secrets.
"No choice! I'll have to use my trump card!" She let out a low growl.
"Use it! Hurry up!" Riddle, still being held up, already had several Silent Mists crawling across his face.
"Is it your true body descending?" Ian also looked a bit expectant.
However, "No."
The Brash Goddess gritted her teeth and denied his guess.
"I wouldn't dare bring my true body to a place full of viruses… so…" She suddenly raised her head and shouted toward the pitch-dark ceiling of the temple:
"Father! Elder brothers! Elder sisters! Help me!"
Her voice was so penetrating it seemed to pierce straight through the clouds.
Truly a lethal weapon, the ultimate move.
One could only say, the Goddess was indeed a Goddess. When it came to volume, no mortal could compare to her.
(End of Chapter)
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