Chapter 66: The True Saint
At last, a gap appeared in the door, and the wizard who had been working to open it leapt through without hesitation. He wasn't about to stay behind and be blasted apart by the vampires' relentless spells.
Phineas was right behind him. He had been watching that door closely and, once the wizard jumped in and no immediate danger followed, Phineas ran in after him. Staying outside meant certain death.
As they entered, a wave of dread swept over them. The wizard who had gone in first was already slumped on the ground, mumbling in disbelief and despair.
Mary and the old wizard rushed in moments later, sealing the door behind them with multiple layers of defensive enchantments. They immediately began reinforcing the protections, knowing the vampires wouldn't relent for long.
"Phineas, have you found it yet? Whatever those vampires are guarding—our only hope of getting out alive depends on it!" the old wizard shouted.
Then, he went silent.
The room was empty.
No windows, no furniture, no artifacts. Only mysterious runes etched into the stone floor and the faded wallpaper—runes repeating the same pattern over and over again.
"Is there... is there nothing here?" Mary asked, her voice shaking.
Phineas looked at her grimly and nodded.
"I misjudged them," he said, his voice hollow. "They weren't guarding anything… they just wanted to kill us."
A heavy silence fell. The old wizard sank to the floor, crushed by hopelessness. Around them, the remaining wizards stood in shock. Outside, the vampires clawed at the door—dozens, perhaps hundreds. The last sliver of hope had vanished.
Eventually, the old wizard stood up, solemn but resolved.
"Yes, we've lost," he said, voice steady. "There's no turning this around. But we can't just sit and wait to be slaughtered. Sooner or later, that door will fall. And when it does, we'll be dragged back to their dungeons. You all know what that means. You've seen it yourselves. Compared to that, death is a blessing."
He looked around, meeting each gaze.
"We've only one thing left. Take as many of them with us as we can. Fight to the end."
The wizards stirred, eyes burning with fury. One by one, they stood, gripping their wands tightly.
"Fight to the death," the old wizard said, raising his wand.
"Fight to the death!" the others echoed, and with a final cry, they rushed out through the door, back into the chaos.
Only two people stayed behind.
Phineas remained motionless, watching them disappear. And the old wizard—after a moment of hesitation—turned back, surprised to see Phineas unmoved.
"You didn't go," he said slowly. Then he smiled, strangely. "So… you know what this room really is."
Phineas raised his wand calmly.
"Yes," he replied. "I studied Ancient Runes. I don't know much about vampire runes, but I know enough. The moment I saw these markings, I understood what this room really is."
The old wizard's expression darkened. He raised his wand as well.
"A shame. You won't escape. This is a one-use ritual—one person only. And that person will be me."
Phineas shook his head.
"Are you so sure?"
The old wizard scoffed. "You think you're my equal? Or that you've got another escape plan?"
Phineas chuckled softly.
"No. But old man, did you really think I collapsed on the ground earlier because I lost hope? Or that I noticed your intentions and made no preparations?"
The old wizard blinked. Then he flicked his wand, intending to strike. But as he cast the Killing Curse, nothing happened—his wand snapped in two with a sharp crack.
Phineas smirked. "You really thought I gave you a wand without tampering with it?"
The old wizard stared at the broken pieces in shock.
"When… when did you begin to suspect me?"
Phineas tilted his head. "I never suspected you. I simply never trusted you. Especially after I saw your necklace."
The old man's eyes dropped instinctively to the pendant resting on his chest—a triangle enclosing a circle, bisected by a vertical line.
"You recognize this?"
"Of course," said Feeney. "The symbol of the Deathly Hallows. Everyone knows the story from The Tales of Beedle the Bard. But unlike most, I know it's not just a story."
He took a step forward, wand still raised.
"There was once a group that sought the Hallows. They called themselves the True Saints. Two of its most powerful members were Albus Dumbledore and Gellert Grindelwald. Later, Grindelwald used the symbol and the name of the Saints for his followers. Today, people believe it represents only him—but the Saints existed long before."
Phineas's voice lowered, steady and certain.
"With your age, and knowing the state of the magical world now, I know you're no Grindelwald follower. That only leaves one answer… You are one of the original True Saints, one of the few who still chase the Deathly Hallows."