The leading wizards exchanged quick glances and agreed—Phineas's plan was their best option.
With grim resolve, the group pressed forward into the deeper levels of the underground. But this time was different. Resistance was no longer scattered—it was relentless. Pursuers pressed them from behind, and the path ahead grew more perilous with every step. Wizards and Muggles alike fell to the onslaught, their numbers thinning rapidly.
Meanwhile, the vampires guarding the corridor outside the sealed chamber were in utter confusion. They had not anticipated this. Their orders had been clear: stand guard and await the arrival of their elders bearing "the treasure." Once united, they were to use the magical device inside the chamber and secure a way out.
But now, the prisoners from below were not fleeing—they were charging directly toward the sealed room. This wasn't an escape—it was an attack.
Panic rippled among the vampires. The elders had stressed the significance of this chamber repeatedly. Should its contents be damaged, the consequences would be catastrophic. Not only would they face internal punishment, but the future of their entire race could be compromised. According to their leaders, once the item within was properly activated, the vampires would rise—using dark creatures and wizard infighting to dominate the world.
They sent urgent distress signals. Reinforcements were inbound. Yet, as hope approached, the attackers pressed harder, more determined than ever. From the vampires' perspective, it was as if these invaders were hell-bent on destroying the very hope of their kind.
Of course, it was all a colossal misunderstanding.
Phineas believed that the castle's anti-Apparition wards extended to Portkeys and other forms of magical escape, leaving him no option but to fight upward or find a secret exit.
The vampires, unaware that their "treasure" had already been intercepted by Phineas, assumed the attack was deliberate sabotage. Each side saw the other as the aggressor, and the battle intensified with tragic irony.
"These vampires are insane! They're throwing lives away just to stop us!" an elderly wizard shouted over the clash, unleashing another Killing Curse.
Phineas deflected a spell and retorted, "I don't get it either. If we were all powerful wizards, maybe I'd understand. But most of us are just Muggles. Do these vampires really think we're worth this?"
As he spoke, he disarmed a vampire mid-sneak attack. Mary, the female Auror, followed up with a clean shot of green light.
"I don't think this is about our escape anymore," she said, breathless but alert. "They're not just defending—they're protecting something."
The old wizard blinked, realization dawning. "You think they knew we'd come here? That they've been trying to stop us from reaching this room all along?"
The thought hit hard. If it was true, then they were in even more danger than they'd realized.
Phineas shook his head. "Doesn't matter. We can't change it now. All we can do is fight our way to that door."
Mary and the old wizard exchanged nods and fell back into rhythm, spells flying faster and colder than before.
By now, the Muggles had been reduced to little more than shields. The wizards, though fewer in number, continued the fight, launching spell after spell with ruthless precision.
Phineas, however, was different. Since escaping the dungeon, he had used the Killing Curse only twice. Its very nature disturbed him. He couldn't ignore that Dumbledore and even Grindelwald had avoided it in battle. He suspected there was a hidden cost—one that might echo in the soul.
He knew that to create a Horcrux, one must commit murder using the Killing Curse. That alone told him enough.
So Phineas fought differently. He relied on a blend of disarming charms, cutting spells, and his most devastating technique: Sectumsempra, also known to him as Shadowless Blade.
Invented by Snape, this dark spell was silent, nearly invisible, and almost impossible to counter. Its lethality came not just from the wounds it inflicted, but from their permanence. Vampires, once so proud of their regenerative powers, were helpless before it.
Each time Phineas swung his wand, two or three enemies were sliced open, some losing limbs, others their lives. The spell left no flare, no glow—only swift, mortal silence.
The other wizards didn't question his methods. They assumed this was a spell of his own creation—a unique magic, perhaps taught by a mentor. Few in the magical world could craft original spells, but for those with help from a powerful elder, it was possible.
Besides, unlike the Killing Curse, Shadowless Blade struck in small, sweeping arcs, making it ideal for group combat.
Finally, after a brutal advance and the loss of several comrades, they reached the sealed door.
Now they faced a new danger—the vampires behind them.
As soon as Phineas's group reached the chamber, the vampires went berserk. They fought with reckless abandon, desperate to keep the door closed.
The wizards took up defensive positions while one of them began inspecting the door for magical locks or traps.
The more fiercely the vampires attacked, the more convinced Phineas became that the secret inside this room was no ordinary treasure. Something pivotal was hidden here—something that made these dark creatures willing to sacrifice everything.
And as wizards fell and their makeshift shields were shattered by spells, Phineas knew they were running out of time.