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It was clearly an underground chamber, yet the floor here seemed to be paved with countless golden bricks. They sparkled with a dazzling light, and under the illumination of thousands of enchanted candles, they cast a golden glow upon the massive skeleton at the center.
The enormous skeleton of a dragon lay in quiet repose. Its colossal frame resembled an ancient, majestic mountain, with each bone segment so thick it would require several people to encircle it, as if it could have once borne the weight of the heavens.
The oppressive aura it exuded seemed undiminished even in death. It was impossible to tell how many centuries it had lain there, but its skull, larger than that of the mightiest living dragon known today, was still held high.
The hollow eye sockets resembled deep, dark voids, as if still gazing upon its past glory and grandeur.
"Hogwarts really did have dragons!" The shocking sight before Ian made his mouth fall open in astonishment. He immediately thought of the school motto; it seemed the phrase "Draco Dormiens Nunquam Titillandus (Never tickle a sleeping dragon)" truly had its origins here.
He hadn't expected the students to have guessed correctly! Perhaps even the professors at Hogwarts were unaware of this; otherwise, they wouldn't have so confidently taught the students that dragons had no place within the school's history.
"This is more than just having dragons; compared to this one, the Hungarian Horntail would seem like a hatchling," Ian murmured in awe as he slowly approached.
His own size was like that of an ant in comparison to the dragon's skeleton, and even attempting to climb onto one of its talons proved to be a daunting task. It was difficult to fathom how immense this dragon must have been in life.
"Perhaps only a giant could rival it?" The dragon's bones were astonishingly thick, as if forged from the hardest of metals. They intertwined to form a breathtaking skeleton, still exuding the dragon's might and power even after countless centuries of death.
"Clang clang~" Ian pulled out a hammer and struck the bone, hearing a resoundingly hard clang. As an alchemist, it was only natural for him to carry such peculiar tools.
"To brew this into a potion, I'd likely need to use Fiendfyre directly," He mused.
Of course, Ian was also a potions master, so such thoughts were hardly out of place.
He was genuinely awestruck by the skeleton in the underground chamber; just the sight of it alone made him feel an almost suffocating pressure. Merlin only knew how formidable it must have been in life.
Even the smaller dragons of today possessed extraordinary magical resistance, so one could only imagine how much greater this dragon's defenses must have been. Ian found it hard to conceive how such a creature could have been defeated or how it had come to rest in this hidden chamber.
He wondered if even the most powerful wizards could have pierced the defenses of such a terrifying beast.
"The four founders truly were the four founders... where on earth did they find such a dragon?" Ian retrieved his ''Housewitch's Handy Box '' and placed it beside the dragon's talon.
This alchemical device, equipped with sharp, enchanted teeth, immediately began its work.
However.
"Crack~"
Just as Ian had anticipated, the teeth of the ''Housewitch's Handy Box '' were instantly damaged, unable to so much as scratch the surface of the dragon's bone, leaving not a single mark on them.
At least in terms of bone density, the physical defense of the dragon in the underground chamber was unparalleled, and the damaged ''Housewitch's Handy Box '' seemed to be mocked by the ancient bones that had lain undisturbed for over a millennium.
"Perhaps it's the result of magical enhancement or some form of biological alchemy?"
Ian was still pondering the dragon's origins when he noticed a line of glowing runes etched into the ground.
Each character was about the size of a palm, making them quite noticeable, but Ian had clearly been so captivated by the mountain-like skeleton that he hadn't noticed them immediately.
"The last of the dragon race shall rest here; the era of dragons has come to a complete end."
Thanks to his diligent studies and the knowledge imparted by his enchanted tome, Ian recognized the words written in ancient runes. He also noted that the elegant handwriting was unmistakably that of Rowena Ravenclaw.
"The era of dragons?" Ian realized he might have stumbled upon a secret in magical history that had never been recorded. He felt as though he could sense the essence of that era through Ravenclaw's words.
Dragons once soared through the skies, ruling the earth; their every breath could make mountains tremble, and their every roar could shake the very foundations of the world.
"Blimey, why does it smell so foul?" Ian was somewhat relieved that Ravenclaw had indicated the last of the dragon race had perished; otherwise, he definitely wouldn't have been able to sleep tonight, plagued by thoughts of whether there were still any dragon hybrids, dragon-slaying orders, or some convoluted lineage of the Black King and White King lurking in the world.
"Regardless, this ancient secret likely predates even the time of Merlin," Ian mused.
He gazed at the words on the ground, increasingly convinced that this was indeed Ravenclaw's writing style.
"I thought this was Slytherin's private chamber, reserved for his own use..." Ian was surprised by the true ownership of the underground chamber. He looked around and noticed that there were stone statues, each about ten meters high, positioned in all four directions, seemingly embedded into the walls and almost blending into the surrounding stone.
Each statue bore slight differences in detail, capturing the appearances and postures of the four founders. Each was adorned with exquisitely detailed relief patterns corresponding to the four houses of Hogwarts— Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Slytherin, and Ravenclaw.
The reliefs looked as though they had been freshly carved.
The statue representing Gryffindor depicted a majestic lion, its mane as vivid as flames and its eyes gleaming with a fierce, unyielding light, as if ready to leap from the stone to face any challenge with bravery and determination.
The statue corresponding to Slytherin was carved in the shape of a coiled serpent. Its scales were intricately detailed, shimmering with a cold, metallic sheen in the dim light, and its eyes glowed like deep green emeralds, exuding cunning and wisdom as if plotting something in the shadows.
The statue of Ravenclaw depicted an eagle poised to take flight. Its feathers were meticulously rendered, as if ruffled by a gentle breeze, and its sharp beak gleamed like a blade. Its gaze conveyed an insatiable thirst for knowledge and a piercing insight into all things, its posture reminiscent of Rowena Ravenclaw herself.
The statue representing Hufflepuff depicted a gentle badger. Its image was endearing yet exuded a quiet strength, its paws firmly planted as if guarding something precious, and its expression was one of calm and steady resolve, perfectly matching the house's values.
"So, this is a chamber shared by the four founders, or perhaps a place built for a specific purpose?" Ian walked up to the statue engraved with Ravenclaw's emblem. Once again, he saw Ravenclaw's notes, still etched into the golden floor in front of the statue.
"Piertotum Locomotor." Ian softly read the glowing words on the ground, and his wand trembled slightly as if some invisible restraint had been broken. Then it erupted with a brilliant light.
Magic surged through the air.
"What the hell!"
Gripping his wand tightly, Ian realized what was happening. He quickly glanced at his screen, and sure enough, a brand-new spell had appeared on his list of known magic.
"Hong long long!! Hong long long!!!"
Before Ian could even begin to consider how to explain this to Snape, the underground chamber began to shake violently. The incantation, once spoken, acted like a horn rousing a slumbering giant. In an instant, the syllables of the spell reverberated through the chamber, awakening the ancient magic dormant within its walls.
At first, a faint tremor emanated from the walls, and fine stone dust began to fall like a gentle rain. Then, the statue representing Hufflepuff, carved in the likeness of a badger, began to emit a low, rumbling sound, as if its massive form was gradually stirring from a thousand-year slumber.
(To Be Continued…)