Sagres slowly walked around the stone basin, carefully observing the flow of the runes.
"Very ancient… a compulsory magic," he murmured. "Not a simple poison, but something that amplifies the deepest fears and pains of the drinker, serving as both punishment and obstruction. The designer, in this regard, can be considered… ingenious."
His gaze fell to the bottom of the basin, where the outline of the locket entangled with a golden chain lay.
He did not choose to drink it like Regulus. Instead, he reached out his hand directly, attempting to penetrate the emerald-green liquid.
However, the moment his fingertips touched the surface, the image of the locket rippled like a reflection in water, becoming blurry.
He continued to probe, but no matter how far his hand reached down, the physical object remained out of reach, like an illusory reflection.
"Interesting…"
Sagres was not discouraged; instead, a strong interest appeared in his eyes.
He stood by the stone basin, lost in thought for a moment.
"It's not a physical isolation, but a conceptual 'rejection.' The rules of space are warped within this basin of liquid. Unless one drinks it, the object will forever be unobtainable?"
Harry and Sirius watched, holding their breath.
"Let me drink it!"
Sirius stepped forward, saying decisively. "If everything Kreacher said is true, then drinking this won't actually lead to death."
Sagres did not respond; he still quietly stared at the basin of poison.
Harry's heart, however, tightened sharply. "No! Let me!"
He anxiously blocked Sirius, not wanting him to drink it, but if someone absolutely had to, then he would rather it be himself.
Just as Sirius was about to retort, Sagres raised a hand to stop him.
"Gentlemen, calm down."
His gaze finally moved away from the liquid in the basin, and then he said to the two with a half-smile:
"Voldemort certainly set a test, but that doesn't mean we must obediently follow the path he laid out to solve it."
"Besides," he changed his tone, reminding the two, "have you forgotten? The locket lying at the bottom is actually a fake."
Sirius and Harry also realized this, feeling a bit awkward, but Sagres didn't let them off the hook. Instead, he seriously suggested:
"Of course, if you are really thirsty, I still have some Muggle drinks to choose from."
"I don't think that will be necessary…"
"I'm not too thirsty either…"
The two responded awkwardly.
Sagres smiled, then pointed at the basin of poison and said to them:
"Drinking the poison would play right into Voldemort's hands.
He enjoys this process of manipulating people's minds and forcing others to suffer.
However, we might as well think from a different perspective."
He paused briefly, as if organizing his thoughts or formulating his words.
"For example, since this magic rejects all 'external' methods of acquisition, can we perhaps work from its 'inside' and make it 'spit out' the item itself?"
Seeing their puzzled expressions, Sagres did not explain, nor did he try to retrieve it with his hand again. Instead, he raised his wand, pointing it steadily at the center of the stone basin.
A powerful surge of magic instantly poured out, enveloping the entire stone basin.
The basin trembled slightly, and the liquid within seemed to be imbued with life, rapidly converging and rising in the center.
In the blink of an eye, a small, entirely emerald-green figure stood up from the liquid surface.
It raised its head, "looked" at Sagres with its featureless face, and then, without hesitation, plunged back into the thick poison.
The green figure disappeared, and the next moment, the fake locket, as if supported by an invisible and steady hand, slowly rose from the depths of the poison, gradually floating upward.
A moment later, the green figure once again emerged from the liquid surface, respectfully holding the locket with both hands and offering it to Sagres.
The golden chain hung down, and a few drops of potion clinging to the locket's surface quickly slid off, leaving no trace, as if it had never been immersed in the liquid.
Sagres reached out and took the cold locket from the green figure's hands.
After he took the locket, the figure immediately merged back into the stone basin, restoring its original appearance.
He felt the faint magical fluctuations remaining on the locket, as well as an uncomfortable cold evil—that was the dark aura it had absorbed from being soaked in potion for a long time, even as a fake.
Without the slightest hesitation, Sagres pressed his thumb against the emerald-studded clasp.
Click.
The mechanism made a crisp sound, and the locket sprang open.
There were no screams of evil souls or terrifying sights; inside the locket lay a neatly folded, yellowed slip of paper.
Sagres picked up the slip of paper and unfolded it.
Harry and Sirius also leaned in.
The handwriting on the paper was neat and sharp, as if every stroke had been made with all the writer's courage:
To the Dark Lord:
By the time you read this, I shall have been long dead, but I must tell you that I have discovered your secret.
I have taken the real Horcrux and intend to destroy it as soon as I can.
I face death in the hope that when you meet your match, you will be but a mortal man.
R.A.B.
The cave was silent, with only the lake water unsettlingly surging.
Harry and Sirius held their breath, looking at the small slip of paper, as if they could see through it a brave soul rebelling against everything he once believed in, and ultimately paying for it with his life.
Sagres silently gazed at the signature—R.A.B., Regulus Arcturus Black.
He refolded the paper, placed it back in the locket, and then closed the lid with a "snap."
He turned around, his gaze falling on the house-elf who was almost cowering in a ball nearby.
Kreacher's tennis-ball-sized eyes were wide and tear-filled, staring intently at the metal box that had cost his master his life.
"Kreacher," Sagres's voice was calm, yet it made Kreacher tremble involuntarily.
"This is your master's trophy, and his medal and proof of defiance against the Dark Lord.
Take it, and I hope you will keep it safe."
He gently placed the cold locket in the house-elf's trembling palm.
Kreacher's withered fingers suddenly closed, clutching the locket tightly to his chest, as if it were the most precious treasure in the world.
Large, cloudy tears instantly rolled from his eyes, splashing onto the cold rock.
He did not wail, but only sobbed silently, bowing deeply, deeply to Sagres.
Sagres did not respond; he turned to gaze at the black lake water that concealed countless tormented souls, then slowly raised his wand.
The next moment, a low and majestic incantation issued from his mouth.
The syllables were cold and evil, as if from hell, mixed with the chilling power of controlling the dead, making one's scalp tingle.
"₥₳Ɽ₵Ⱨ Ø₣ ₮ⱧɆ Ʉ₦ĐɆ₳Đ!"
The moment the spell fell, the dead-silent lake surface suddenly boiled!
Countless pale, bloated Inferi with empty eyes broke through the water. They did not madly rush towards the living but, like soldiers on review, emerged silently from the black lake with stiff and orderly steps, finally standing densely on the calm surface—a truly bizarre sight.
Harry and Sirius were completely stunned; the horrifying scene before them had surpassed their understanding of magic.
In this silent army of the dead, several Inferi carried a young body, stepping across the calm lake surface, slowly bringing it to the shore and finally gently laying it on the rock.
Although the pale face had been eroded by the lake water for a long time, a faint outline similar to Sirius could still be discerned.
"Young Master Regulus…"
Kreacher let out a cry of pain and lunged forward.
Sirius also had a lump in his throat, but he silently took off his jacket and gently covered his brother's cold and soaked body, as if wanting to preserve his last shred of dignity.
Sagres's gaze swept over the silent army of the dead. There was no fear in his eyes, only a cold scrutiny of Voldemort's methods and undisguised contempt.
"Using hatred for the living to confine a large number of Inferi as guards?"
He shook his head, his tone full of mockery. "Not only lacking in creativity, but also… too crude."
As his words fell, he unhesitatingly raised his wand, and a scorching pale flame immediately erupted from its tip.
"All tormented souls confined here, your duty is over."
His voice was calm and firm. "Rest in peace now."
The flame, like a sacred tide, silently swept across the entire lake surface. All the standing Inferi dissolved the moment they were touched by the white flame, not even a speck of ash stirred.
Countless pale fire crows danced and circled in the flames. The viscous darkness that had permeated the cave was completely dispelled, and the chilling aura in the air vanished with it.
In just a moment, the entire interior of the cave became empty and "clean." The lake water remained pitch black, but no longer harbored killing intent, and all the Inferi had been incinerated, as if they had never existed.
Sagres put away his wand, his tone calm. "It's over.... Let's go back."
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