Everyday Life of a Top Student at Hogwarts

Chapter 216 Preliminary Research and Observations on Horcruxes

Chapter 216 Preliminary Research and Observations on Horcruxes

Deep within the alchemy workshop of "Tranquil Abode," the air was as still as lead. This wasn't Nico's usual experimental space, but an ancient stone chamber located beneath the manor, specially set up for this research. Layers of protective runes were etched into the thick obsidian walls, now radiating a tranquil silver-blue light that cast a solemn and cold glow over the entire space. On the central stone platform, the lead box brought by Karen rested at the center of a multi-layered alchemy array. The array's lines, outlined by molten mithril, emanated a powerful field of isolation and stability.

Horcruxes are indeed rare and unusual. Even a long-lived alchemist like Nico has only seen a few Horcruxes over the years. He once obtained one that resembled Helbo's Horcrux, but it was already decayed when he got it, so he couldn't confirm whether it was a Horcrux or not.

Now, Nico, Castor, and Karen stand in a triangle around the stone platform, gazing at the Horcrux placed in the center.

"Karen," Nico's voice echoed deep in the stone chamber, "we'll begin the first step. What you need to do is activate the 'Eye of Truth' and observe the outermost layer of magical energy and soul fluctuations emanating from the Crown Horcrux while it's sealed. Remember, only observe, don't touch, don't delve deeper. Record everything you perceive—form, color, texture, temperature, any describable imagery. I will simultaneously monitor the energy loss rate and core stability fluctuations of the lead box seal."

Karen took a deep breath, closed his eyes, cleared his mind of all distractions, and focused all his attention on his unique, innate talent. When he opened his eyes again, it seemed as if starlight swirled deep within his grey-blue irises, and the world before him shed its material shell, revealing a magnificent yet dangerous panorama of pure energy and the flow of soul.

His gaze pierced through the layers of alchemical array light, focusing on the seemingly ordinary crown.

A nearly transparent membrane floated on the surface of the crown, constantly swirling like mercury. He noticed faint, dark purple spots of light emerging from the membrane, like luminous plankton in the deep sea, flickering and seemingly breathing. At the same time, wisps of pale gold slowly seeped from the membrane, entwining with dust particles in the surrounding air, causing them to suspend and slowly rotate, as if forming some kind of miniature galaxy. Karen's pupils contracted slightly; those threads rippled faintly in his vision, carrying an indescribable sorrow and an aura of decay. He quickly etched all these details into his memory, daring not to miss a single one.

Those spots of light weren't concrete light, but rather a kind of—"existence." A twisted and viscous "darkness." It wasn't pure nothingness, but more like a clump of constantly writhing, inky thorns trying to pierce outwards. The tip of each "thorn" shimmered with an ominous dark red glow, like congealed blood, emanating a malice and greed that sent shivers down one's spine. These thorns frantically and silently assaulted the inner lead walls and silver runic chains, each impact causing the runic chains to flicker slightly, as if bearing an invisible pressure.

Surprisingly, at the heart of the thorn bush, a faint, ancient, heavy, yet utterly distorted blue light emanated, like a sapphire soaked in filthy blood. It might have been a faint, imperceptible trace of the Ravenclaw crown's original essence, now completely corrupted and suppressed.

"Form—" Karen's voice, tinged with barely perceptible tension, rang clearly in the silent stone chamber, "like a living, constantly piercing thicket of dark thorns, with dark red specks of light like congealed blood droplets at the tips of the thorns. At its core is an extremely faint, thoroughly corrupted, ancient, eerie blue aura, almost completely covered by the dark thorns. Temperature—icy cold, not a physical low temperature, but a chill that directly affects the senses, freezing the soul. Texture—viscous, heavy, and corrosive, each impact on the seal carries a—greedy sucking sensation." He struggled to find the most fitting words.

Nico listened intently. "The seal is stable. The azure core is probably the magic of the Ravenclaw crown itself, and it has been so desecrated." His voice was low and filled with sorrow.

"Now, retrieve the previous soul fragment sample." Castor's cold voice rang out, devoid of any emotional fluctuation.

Nico retrieved another, smaller lead box from a nearby niche. The sealing runes on this box differed from those on the Crown Horcrux, focusing more on isolation than physical restriction. He placed it a short distance away from the Crown Horcrux's lead box.

Karen turned her gaze to the small lead box. Under the "Eye of Truth," the small lead box was also wrapped in silver runic chains, but the scene inside was completely different.

Karen described the "fragment sample" in comparison: "Form: The edges twitch intermittently and violently, accompanied by the flickering of morbid gray-green light spots. Temperature: Also cold, but sharper, more fragmented, and unstable. Texture: Thin and fragile, but full of chaotic explosiveness. Emotion: Weak, chaotic, manic, on the verge of collapse."

"The core differences are obvious." Castor's voice cracked like ice. "Although both are essentially fragments of the soul, the Horcrux, residing in the crown, is stable in form, its malice is condensed into a tangible substance, carrying the ancient and heavy aura of its host, and is highly seductive and persistent. The fragment, losing its vessel, shatters in form, its energy is extremely unstable, chaotic and disordered, and its aggression manifests as intermittent, self-destructive bursts. This confirms our basic hypothesis: the Horcrux, as a container, has a powerful stabilizing and protective effect on the soul fragment, allowing it to exist and exert its power for a long time. The fragment, detached from its container, is like a rootless duckweed, quickly dissipating."

Nico nodded, the data lines on the crystal ball confirming Castor's analysis: "Cullen's perception is extremely accurate. Judging from the energy fluctuations, although the magical source of the Crown Horcrux is deeply corrupted by dark magic, its 'mass' and 'structural strength' are far superior to the fragment we captured. Combined with Cullen's earlier description of its location in the Room of Requirement deep within Hogwarts, I tend to believe that this Horcrux was created by Voldemort during his most confident period regarding his magic and immortality. His choice of a relic of one of the founders of Hogwarts as a vessel is itself an arrogant declaration, demonstrating his high regard for this Horcrux and his extreme confidence in its 'safety.' As for the soul within the Basilisk—" He glanced at the small lead box, "it seems more like a product of his hasty escape and severe loss of power, weak and unstable."

"The most confident of creations—" Castor's lips curled into a cold smile, filled with the utmost mockery of Voldemort's overconfidence, "attempting to pursue eternity by defiling the wisdom of the ancients will only lead to being devoured by one's own creation. This 'confidence' will be one of his graves."

Karen listened silently to her two mentors' analysis, gaining a deeper understanding of the dangers of Horcruxes and Voldemort's madness.

He maintained his "Eye of Truth," continuing to meticulously observe the dark thorns that remained stubbornly dormant beneath the seal. Every subtle movement, every impact on the seal, was etched into his perception like a brand.