"Push them back!"
Palpatra's furious cry rang through the burial vault, a cavernous chamber reeking of mildew and the stench of rotting corpses. The room, a perfect square of twenty metres on each side, boasted a ceiling that soared five metres overhead. The dim light from the {Lumos} charms cast by the wizards and the flickering torches scattered on the floor barely pierced the oppressive darkness, revealing a space teeming with people.
Palpatra and the members of Dragon Hunt had been driven into a corner, their backs against the cold, damp stone walls. The rest of the vault was inundated with a horde of low-end undead—Zombies and Skeletons—so numerous that counting them was an exercise in futility.
Palpatra and the shield-carrying warrior stemmed the flood of death head-on, forming a solid defense to keep the undead from reaching the back-liners. A Zombie lunged at Palpatra with both hands outstretched, but he deftly sidestepped, slicing it in half with his staff-spear, crafted from the spiked tail of a Hungarian Horntail.
Palpatra swung the crescent blade in his hand with deadly precision, but for every undead he felled, another would rush in to fill the gap. The horde pressed in ever closer, as though they wanted to squash Palpatra and the others to death.
"Dammit! There's too many!"
The shield-bearing warrior beside Palpatra growled through gritted teeth. He swung his mace with desperate fury, shattering skulls and splintering bones, but the relentless pressure of the undead forced him back, step by agonizing step.
"Where did all these enemies come from?!"
The warrior's question was very reasonable. The undead found in this tomb were not native to this region, or even the continent for that matter. The Zombies hailed from the southern United States, while the weapons clutched by the Skeletons were distinctly un-English. If this truly was an ancient ruin newly unearthed, the creatures and artifacts within should have borne some semblance to European descent. Yet, just like its outer appearance, the monsters emerging from it had similarly bizarre origins.
The native dark creatures like Inferi were nowhere to be seen crawling about—a small mercy, perhaps, but instead, they had to deal with these bizarre living dead, who were largely unaffected by the common charms that should've warded them off.
The teams from other departments of the Ministry might not have noticed this anomaly, but Dragon Hunt, from the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, was well-versed in dealing with such irregularities. Their work often involved confronting the illegal importation of magical creatures from all over the world. Unscrupulous wizards and witches frequently smuggled exotic and dangerous creatures into the country, either out of a misguided desire for unique pets or for more nefarious purposes.
This illicit trade in magical creatures meant that the Dragon Hunt team was well-versed in identifying and managing creatures that didn't belong in their usual habitats. They knew the signs of foreign magical influences and were adept at piecing together the origins of such creatures based on their unique characteristics and behaviours.
Zombies and skeletons were hardly strong foes, their primary threat lying in their overwhelming numbers. However, the dark creatures found in this cursed place seemed to be impervious to the {Tickling Charm} and were unafraid of the light.
If things went on like this, a single stroke of bad luck could see their battle lines crumble. Having reached this conclusion, Palpatra decided to use the power he had wanted to conserve.
"We need to finish this right away! Show them hell, lads!" he bellowed, his voice echoing through the burial vault.
The back-liners — who had only been casting {Titillando} and {Lumos Solem} until now — made their move.
Normally, undead like this were not a problem for Palpatra and the rest of Dragon Hunt. However, that was also the reason why the backliners chose to wait and conserve their strength. Once the backline made a move, eliminating undead like these would be as easy as falling off a log.
"{Firestorm}!"
Through the oppressive darkness, fire erupted in a dazzling display of crimson and gold. A ring of fire surrounded the team, its fierce heat warding off the encroaching undead. The living dead, their decayed forms reaching out to grasp Palpatra and his comrades, were instantly turned to ash. The wizards' wands, raised high like torches, emitted flames that danced and flickered, forming a vast, fiery lasso that encircled them all with a protective warmth and light.
In a wave of divine might, more potent than any spell they had cast before, the undead crumbled into ash and dust, their blind attempts to reap the lives of their living adversaries thwarted by the overwhelming power of the spell. Destroying so many undead at once was no easy feat; it required immense magical knowledge and a deep reservoir of power. Yet, with both N.E.W.T. -achieving wizards casting such advanced magic in unison, the result was nothing short of spectacular.
The flames roared and crackled, their light casting eerie shadows on the walls of the burial vault. The heat was intense, and the air was thick with the acrid smell of burning flesh and the faint, metallic tang of magic.
In the end, that single, powerful move disintegrated over twenty undead beings. The once overwhelming horde was reduced to a smoldering pile of ash and bone fragments.
"I'll blow you away! {Confringo}!"
The wizard cast his {Confringo}, which flew to the back of the undead horde where it detonated. In a single, ferocious instant of flame, the false lives of all the Zombies and Skeletons within the spell's area of effect were consumed and burned away, leaving nothing but ash and smoke.
"I'm not done yet! {Bombarda}!"
"{Diffindo}!"
The backliners launched another round of area-of-effect attacks, and the number of undead sharply decreased. Explosions and slashing spells erupted in the midst of the horde, tearing through their ranks with brutal efficiency.
"At them!"
"Alright!"
Amidst the burning rotten flesh, sticky fluids oozed — perhaps it would have spurted, if their hearts were beating — from the flying body parts. The odour from the open, severed wounds on the corpses was nauseating but not unbearable. Or rather, one could say that their noses were numbed to it.
The relentless assault of spells had created a momentary reprieve, a chance for the team to regroup. The warrior, now with some breathing room, said, "All the undead we've met are piddly little creatures, but there's a lot of them in this tomb!"
"So there's no guarantee that stronger undead won't show up! Although, if there are stronger undead, I have no idea why they haven't appeared yet!" Palpatra replied, his voice tinged with both relief and caution.
After eliminating the undead within the room, Palpatra finally had the luxury of looking around. The interior of the burial vault was a grim sight. The walls were lined with ancient, crumbling stone, and the air was thick with the musty scent of decay.
As he surveyed the interior, Palpatra noticed four tunnel-like structures, one on each wall, positioned about three metres from the ground. These tunnels were the source of the undead horde, from which the Zombies and Skeletons had poured forth. The tunnels yawned like the mouths of some great beast, dark and foreboding, hinting at the unknown depths beyond. The flickering light from their {Lumos} spells only penetrated so far, casting eerie shadows that danced along the walls.
In addition to the tunnels, there was a closed door directly in front of them. Its heavy, ornate design was made of ancient wood, reinforced with iron bands that were rusted with age. It stood as a silent sentinel, guarding whatever lay beyond. Intricate carvings adorned its surface, depicting scenes of battles and rituals, hinting at the ancient and dark history of the place.
Since a while ago, a woman's wailing could be heard, a haunting sound that echoed through the burial vault, sending shivers down the spines of Palpatra and the members of Dragon Hunt. They were in no hurry to move forward, wary of what might lie ahead. Who knew if there was truly a person trapped there or a magical creature like a Veela looking for prey.
Once everyone was ready, one of the wizards stepped forward, his wand held aloft. "{Alohomora}!" he intoned, his voice steady despite the tension in the air. He swished his wand, and the door opened with a groan, the ancient hinges protesting the movement. The door swung open to reveal a room cloaked in shadows. The air hung heavy with the scent of damp stone and desperation, a palpable sense of foreboding filling the space.
They slowly moved towards the cries, their wands held at the ready, casting a soft glow that barely pierced the oppressive darkness. The sound of their footsteps echoed through the chamber, mingling with the mournful wailing that seemed to come from the very walls themselves. There, in the centre of the chamber, lay a figure — a woman — bound in chains.
Her blonde hair clung to her face, matted and streaked with dirt. Her delicate features were etched with exhaustion, lines of weariness tracing her once-beautiful visage. Her eyes — those rain-washed eyes — held a mixture of fear and defiance, a spark of resilience that had not yet been extinguished. The adventurers exchanged glances; they hadn't expected this — a damsel in distress, shackled like a common criminal.
"Who are you?" Palpatra demanded, blade half-drawn. "What's your name?"
The woman's lips moved, but her voice emerged as a mere rasp. "Clementine," she whispered. "They call me Saint Clementine."
Saint? The word hung in the air, incongruous with the chains that bound her.
"Why are you here, Saint Clementine?" Palpatra's voice was as weathered as the tomb itself.
Clementine's lips moved, and her voice emerged like a whisper from the crypt's very stones. "I came to heal a child, but the next thing I knew, I was confined here. For the past month, I have been stuck here…"
Palpatra's mind raced. 'A child? Is she talking about Harry Potter?' If the information they received before entering the tomb was correct, then the Potter's boy should be 10 or 11 years old. He should've shown signs of awakening magic by now.
'Was that perhaps misunderstood as him falling ill and this woman was called? But then why is she chained here?'
"What did the child look like? Why are you bound here?"
"H-he had green eyes. A-a beautiful little boy. A-Aahgh!" As she was describing the child, she suddenly groaned in pain. As the wound hidden beneath her white religious habit bled, stained it red.
Seeing this Palpatra finally gave an approving nod to the rogue who went forward to cast the Unlocking Charm.
"Despite his pale appearance due to mild sickness, the letters he received from Hogwarts made him quite happy…"
"Letters?"
Palpatra's pulse quickened. Letters — from Hogwarts. How did Clementine know about them if she was stuck here for the past month? Besides, the letter arrived only a few days ago and none of the Owls dared fly past the tomb's walls. How did Harry get the letters?
But before he could demand answers, Clementine moved. Drawing a Stiletto hidden beneath her robe, she stabbed the rogue in front of her.
{Imperio}
With the curse enchanted in the blade unleashed, the rogue fell into a daze momentarily and then turned to his once comrades, blades drawn forth. Blood stained the stone floor, and Palpatra's heart clenched.
"Fufu~ You found me out~ Not bad~" Clementine laughed.
"U-Unforgivable curse!"
"How dare you use an unforgivable curse!" Palpatra shouted. His eyes on the thin-blade stuck in his teammate's abdomen.
Clementine slowly rose up. Black mist surged as her once pitiful appearance was nowhere to be seen. Gone was the white fabric of her once-frayed habit revealing a dark as midnight, intricately designed dress, adorned with gold patterns that glinted ominously in the sparse light.
The chains that once constrained her vanished as two long, slender blades materialized in her hands, their edges stained with the remnants of past battles. Blood spattered across her dark attire and face, marking her as both a predator and a survivor. The once gentle Clementine now stood as a figure of menace, her eyes no longer held misery and fear but were sharp and unforgiving.
In the span of moments, Clementine had shed her peaceful facade, embracing the darkness that lurked within. She, now cloaked in shadows and armed for battle, was ready to unleash her fury upon the world.
"Uwah~ Unforgivable~ curse? Where~? Where? Ju~st kidding~ you mean these?"
Clementine pointed at the needle-like blades in her hands. These were artifacts bestowed upon her by Lord Ainz. They possessed what is known as a "Magic Accumulate Enchantment," allowing them to be imbued with magic spells that the user could activate at any moment.
Clementine slowly changed her posture, lowering herself into what seemed like a runner's crouch. However, her body was still upright, so she looked very strange. It might have appeared comical, but this was definitely not the sort of stance one could take lightly.
And then — Clementine moved. Before Palpatra's vigilant eyes, she shot forward like a compressed spring, sprinting directly at him. It was a charge that even Palpatra, with his superhuman physical abilities, could hardly believe was possible.
The Dragon Hunt wizards unleashed their spells. However, like a hurricane devouring everything in its path, Clementine closed the distance in an instant. She slid under the dazzling streaks of magic, her physical dexterity allowing her to maintain full speed.
Palpatra — who was shaken by Clementine's serpentine movements — forcefully swung his shaft. The powerful stroke ripped through the air as it surged toward Clementine, promising unimaginable devastation if it connected.
And in that brief instant, Palpatra saw the face-splitting grin on her face get even wider.
"[Invulnerable Fortress]."
The unbelievable sight took Palpatra aback. The slender stiletto had actually blocked a hit from a spear made of a dragon's spiked-tail, more than ten times its mass.
The stiletto should have snapped under the grand strike it had just blocked head-on. Even if it had remained intact by some miracle, it would have been knocked flying. However, it was Palpatra's weapon which bounced away, like it had struck some ridiculously strong castle wall.
As though throwing herself into a lover's embrace, Clementine rushed toward Palpatra's unguarded chest. In that moment, half of Palpatra's field of view was taken up by the grinning Clementine. He retreated, but she was faster. This attack, combining a full-tilt charge, all her strength, and skillful use of momentum, could be described as "meteoric."
There was a flash of light, and then the screeching of metal clashing with metal rang through the graveyard. The rogue, now controlled by {Imperio}, had sneaked up on Palpatra's side, managing a stab to the leg. Meanwhile, Clementine took advantage of the distraction and threw a dagger at one of the mages.
{Avada Kedavra}
The blade, bathed in green light, went through the wizard's forehead. The body shook violently, and then collapsed like a puppet whose strings had been cut. Once the body touched the ground, it was as if a bell had gone off, and the two sides went at it again with even more ferocity.
X
Half an hour later…
"—Gyaaah!"
Palpatra's wail resounded throughout the chamber. A searing pain pierced his left hand, spreading agony through his body with every pulse of his heartbeat. His vision blurred, and his breath came in ragged gasps as the torment intensified. Before him stood Clementine, her eyes gleaming with a cruel light. She held a slender, wicked blade, its edge shimmering with malevolent energy. The blade had barely nicked his skin, yet the pain it inflicted was beyond comprehension.
{Crucio}
"—Gah, gaaaah!"
Drooling from the intense pain, Palpatra jerked his head back to see what was going on. The Old man glared at the young woman before him. However, it was clear that he was just putting on a brave front. He had lost the will to fight after seeing the woman casually kill three of his fellows.
"Nfufufufu~ Did it hurt that much, ¹[1]Ojii-san~?"
As she said that, the girl's — Clementine's — face twisted. She had a grin so wide it nearly reached her ears.
"—!"
Palpatra was in so much pain that he could not speak. Yet, he was once part of the Auror Office before being transferred to the Department of Magical Creature Regulation due to a past incident. So to say, he had experience in dealing with Dark wizards and witches. Thus, pain was a common experience for him. Oily sweat beading on his forehead, Palpatra asked,
"Why, why are you doing this?"
He knew it was a stupid question, but the man had no idea why this was happening to him. In the past as an Auror, he had sent many Dark wizards and witches to Azkaban. This might have been the result of some sort of grudge, but he had never seen this girl before.
"Ah, why I did this? Well now~ I just wanted you, Ojii-san~"
The man could not understand what the girl was talking about. He blinked several times, and then asked:
"What, what do you mean?"
"You are a past Auror, Aren't you~? I Ju~st want to ask you a few itsy~bitsy questions~"
"Then all you needed to do was ask! Weren't you planning to do that in the first place?!"
"Nonono, you might have lied to me~"
"I will never lie! You can use Truth Serum if you don't believe me!"
"Hmmm~? Then how about this? I like killing people, I love it, I'm absolutely crazy about it. Ah, and I like torture too," Clementine added with a giggle.
After hearing this nonsensical reply, the man's face hardened and he said,
"You're insane! Why?!"
"Why...?"
The young woman's voice changed. The joking, teasing tone from just now was gone.
"Hmmm... I wonder why? Perhaps it was because my job involved killing lots of people? Maybe it was because I was constantly compared to my amazing big brother? How they loved him instead of me? Or how I was raped constantly before I became strong? Because my friends died in front of me? Or maybe it's because I messed up and got captured and experimented on for several days? Getting your soul ripped apart to create Horcruxes hurts, you know~"
"H-horcrux!?"
The most terrible of all Dark Magic. To think, this little girl before him was subjected to such a horrifying experiment. But in the blink of an eye, a smile bloomed on Clementine's face.
"Just kidding~ I was making it all up, it's a lie, a lie — never happened to me. Still, even if you knew, would it change anything? I'm this way because things piled up — ah, speaking of which, I need to thank Big Sister Neuronist for allowing me to participate in this mission. I'm so glad I could meet you all right away~ you should know how long it takes to find materials~"
Clementine released her stiletto, which was pulled down by gravity and sank into Palpatra's thigh.
{Crucio}
"Aaaaaahhhh!"
"Oops~ My Bad~"
The fact that she still didn't pull that dagger out of his leg and was giggling clearly showed her sadistic nature.
"Then~ time for the next step. I can't use you if you're heavily wounded, Ojii-san... buuuut Big Sister has sent me a few of her subordinates. They can heal you with divine magic no matter how much I hurt you~ which means I get to enjoy torturing you as muuuuch as I like, no?"
As she uttered those bone-chilling words, several ghastly pale figures wearing tight leather masks and aprons of similar nature came into the room. They stretched their long corpse-like arms in front of Green Leaf and his teammates, as a mysterious magic circle formed on their palms, releasing a soft ethereal glow, ridding Palpatra of all his injuries.
"These should be good... sorry if I miss~"
It was adorable, the way she stuck her tongue out at him. However, her filthy, blackened heart was visible for all to see.
Palpatra turned his back to her and ran. Although he heard an exaggerated gasp of surprise from the young woman, he still ran with every ounce of strength in him. He was proud of his sense of direction, and he used it to the full as he ran through the lightless dark. However, there was a clattering noise from behind him, followed by the woman's calm voice.
"—Too slow~"
Searing pain filled his shoulder. His first thought was that he had been stabbed by a stiletto, and then a shadow fell over his thoughts. It was {Imperius}. The old Auror desperately tried to resist, but that only mired his consciousness further in darkness. The voice of "a friend" came from behind him.
"Ah~ Are you all right? Is the wound deep?"
"Mm, no, it's fine," Palpatra smiled as he turned to face "his friend."
"Is that so? That's wonderful~"
A dreadful smile bloomed on the young woman's face.
[1] ¹ Ojii-san is honorifics for grandpa