In Amostason's gaze, Horne lowered his head, keeping silent. It wasn't that he hadn't considered it – it was just that he didn't care. Ultimately, these centaurs believed themselves to be independent of the magical world, and they didn't care what wizards thought of them. Therefore, they wouldn't care about the risks their behavior might pose to the wizards.
Seeing Horne at a loss for words, Amostason's violet eyes also flickered with a hint of helplessness.
It's not that these centaurs have no sense of decorum; it's just not quite that extreme. At least, the places they provide for the Druids to seek refuge are completely outside the radiation range of Hogwarts Castle, quite a distance away. Even if their age-old enemies come knocking, it won't affect this side of the castle.
The only issue is that this old centaur doesn't know why Ventropy Crionna was lurking in Hogwarts, but it does know that intruders had infiltrated the castle. The centaurs, who consider the Druids fellow descendants of Avalon, kept this information hidden and didn't even think to mention it to Hogwarts, which frustrated Amostason.
Of course, it was with Moody's face that Crionna was allowed to hide in the school by him and Dumbledore, but there is a difference between active and passive consent.
Amostason stood up from the cushion, turning to walk towards the front wall of the temple. Inside this wall, there was a layer of tanned animal hide armor stacked on the inner surface, with many astronomical charts depicted on it. After a quick glance, Amostason lost interest and looked downwards instead.
After staring at the ground for a moment, Amostason fixed his gaze on the slightly nervous Horn, whose meaning was self-evident.
Horn's old centaur face was marked with a bitter expression, but eventually, he stood up silently and approached Amostason, looking at the raised floor with his front hooves. Then, the solemn temple echoed with a sound of bricks scraping against each other as a black hole-like opening appeared in front of Amostason.
"You, Mr. Brane, are the first wizard to step into the centaurs' sacred grounds—"
"I feel an immense honor--"
Amostason spoke lightly. He gestured towards the door with a flick of his fingers, and a burning torch flew into the hall and followed Amostason into the tunnel.
The tunnel extends downwards to a depth of over one hundred feet, which for the centaurs, who are not adept in magic, must have been quite a difficult endeavor to dig such a deep space. Additionally, the tunnel is very dry, whereas the forest beyond is moist, making this an unusual find.
Now that things have come to this point, Horn can only let events unfold as they may. Even if he sends a signal to his people outside, it would serve no purpose and would likely only provoke a raging temper from Amostason Brane, resulting in heavy casualties among his kin.
It followed Brane behind, stepping into the sacred grounds that had never been opened before.
At the foot of the ramp, a spacious passageway extended. At the end of this corridor, a heavy, black wooden door stood, reinforced with protective magic.
This is different from the spells of wizards. It involves a mixture of ancient techniques passed down by centaurs, using various things rich in magic collected from nature. These are combined into a magical solution that, when used as ink, creates patterns with extraordinary power.
In short, the patterns on the door are real magical writings, the first expression of magic.
Standing before the door, Amostason observed the glistening magical script for a moment before raising his chin and inquiring, "Do you know how to unlock it?"
"Do you still possess the complete system of genuine magical script?"
The answer to this question is obvious. If the centaurs possess this ability, the young centaurs wouldn't need to wield weapons.
The pattern appeared simple, but during the carving process, it left traces in many spatial dimensions. The pattern in front of them was merely a projection of those traces into the real world. The power of ancient magic should not be underestimated. Vandalism could potentially cause the entire temple above their heads to explode, so Amostason moved aside from the door and looked at Horn.
The old centaur's expression shifted, clearly still reluctant, but at this age, it had long learned the lesson that circumstances are stronger than individuals.
"Please do not disturb anything inside."
Sighing softly, Horn approached and placed his withered palm on the door.
The wooden door emitted a clanging sound like steel, accompanied by a fleeting flash of dim light. The world beyond the door appeared before Amostason's eyes.
The oppressive aura that greeted Amostason made him involuntarily squint his eyes. A few seconds later, when he opened his eyes, he gazed at the room behind the door with a hint of surprise.
Beyond the door is a room of a size similar to the Slytherin's Chamber, with torches on the walls that automatically ignited upon sensing someone opening the door. The bright, golden flames illuminate the spacious room in sharp detail.
Amostason faced hundreds of stone statues of centaurs. Each statue was grand in size, lifelike, holding rusted lances or nearly rotten bows. Their expressions varied from wide-eyed rage to unwavering courage, all exuding an air of greatness.
"This is..."
"Centaurs don't share the wizarding tradition of burying the dead beneath the ground. We come from nature, and so should we return to it after death."
Horn stared at the statues, speaking in a tone full of reverence, "These were our ancestors--"
"But for commemoration, we will take away their weapons from life, and use the statues to record their appearance. Only heroes deserve such treatment. They were all brave warriors who helped our tribe through difficult times!"
Amostason nodded slightly,
"Understood, this is the centaurs' 'Hall of Heroes'."
Amostason had no special attachment to the centaurs' heroes, but he probably knew the significance of this place for the centaurs. After entering this place, Amostason didn't pass through the sculptures of the centaurs' heroes but instead went through the solemn and majestic Hall of Heroes along the walls, reaching another door opposite the hall.
Such behavior undoubtedly won some goodwill from Horn for this grand wizard of the human world. Therefore, when faced with the second sealed wooden door, without waiting for Amostason's gaze to indicate it, it took the initiative to go forward and open it.
The second room also gave Amostason some shock.
This was also a vast stone chamber, empty except for the walls, which were covered with large stone slabs measuring two feet in size. Each slab was etched with different celestial constellations, looking incredibly mysterious.
If Aurora saw this, she might be very excited.
Amostason's mind flashed with a fleeting thought. He glanced over the celestial constellations etched on the stone slabs, moving quickly through the room, but suddenly, Amostason stopped his steps at a spot slightly towards the back of the room--
Amostason's knowledge of astronomy was average, limited to common knowledge, so he wasn't particularly interested in these star charts. However, as he had passed by and looked at hundreds of stone slabs, he had not recognized any of the constellations recorded on them, which surprised him somewhat.
"These star charts don't record the positions of the planets, do they?"
Amostason asked abruptly.
Horn was caught off guard by Amostason's discovery, and he said unexpectedly, "These are not charts of planetary positions?"
"You're right, Mr. Brane, these stone slabs record not the positions of the planets, but words——"
"Words?"
Amostason's eyebrows twitched, and he said with a tone of slight admiration, "Words?"
"The centaurs created a unique script with celestial constellations? That's impressive. It shows great creativity and imagination."
Amostason didn't continue looking and instead approached a stone wall that occupied the entire area of one of the walls opposite the room, next to the third wooden door.
The stone wall did not record anything with the special script like the other stone slabs in the room; instead, it was a simple line drawing—a vast and desolate land where countless creatures had gathered together. There was no war taking place; instead, they were crawling on the ground and kneeling to worship the sky. Above them, there was an irregularly shaped closed figure filled with many chaotic lines that seemed to represent 'wind,' resembling the silhouette of a jellyfish swimming in water!
Amostason gazed deeply at the stone drawing, expressionless, with fluctuating emotions. He had indeed not expected to see a similar picture somewhere else one day.
"What is this?"
Even though his thoughts were tumultuous, Amostason asked in a calm and composed manner.
Horn seemed to have expected Brane's question, and it was not surprised, but still intently gazed at the pattern on the stone wall with a complex gaze.
"Wizards have lost the records of that history, Mr. Brane, but centaurs know. It was a long time ago, before magic first came to our world."
Meeting the enigmatic gaze of Amostason Brane, the centaur elder Horn spoke in a hoarse voice.
(Chapter completed)
