Harry Potter and the Secret Treasures

But the darkness only lasted for a moment. In the blink of an eye, the light in front of Evan returned to normal.

They had chosen the right archway, and behind the door was not the afterlife, but a huge, imposing building.

The Viking warship carried the six of them, gliding slowly out from a magnificent golden gate, with the moon right beside them.

It was hard to believe, with odds of one in fifty-four, Dumbledore had actually chosen correctly—it was almost like a miracle.

Everything happened in the blink of an eye, and they didn’t even have time to react. Even their heartbeats didn’t change.

“This is it. This is the building I saw at that time,” Evan heard Harry shout. “Professor, how did you do it?”

His voice sounded strange, as if it wasn’t resonating in reality. After all, they were not physical entities now but rather a play of light and shadow on the warship.

“It’s actually not that difficult. There is a special magical mark on that gate,” said Dumbledore, his voice sounding equally weird.

“How can you be sure that the mark was left to guide us and not a trap?”

“Oh, that involves a little tacit understanding,” said Dumbledore. “As I mentioned earlier, it’s a habit of my old friend when setting up such magic. Unlike Voldemort, he values power rather than death.”

“Power?!”

“Yes,” Dumbledore nodded. “Therefore, Voldemort’s Magic always finds ways to kill people, just like what we saw before in the cave where he kept his Horcrux, consuming the intruder’s blood and life force, the lake full of Inferi, and the poison that had to be drunk. There may be other traps on the things he needs to protect, but Gellert is not like that. Although he was once called the Dark Lord, what he values more is power. If the visitor has enough skills to gain his recognition, he always gives them a chance. That guy likes to make friends with powerful people. This has never changed from beginning to end. He is always so aloof and paranoid, but he is not willing to put people to death.”

Evan heard Moody snort heavily, obviously disdainful of Dumbledore’s evaluation.

It was well known that Grindelwald had been defeated by Dumbledore, but few people knew that their relationship was not as simple as a mere confrontation. Love, hatred, and complicated emotions were intertwined. In any case, it was complex. Listening to Dumbledore’s unreserved praise and recognition in his words, it didn’t sound like an assessment of an enemy at all.

In Dumbledore’s view, Voldemort was a murderous madman, but Grindelwald was not.

In fact, for most wizards, both were pretty much the same.

Because they definitely did not have the strength recognized by Grindelwald, the result when they faced him was the same as when they faced Voldemort: death.

Considering the complex relationship between the Headmaster and Grindelwald, Evan felt it was best not to comment.

Since being defeated by Dumbledore, Grindelwald had been imprisoned in the highest tower of Nurmengard.

In theory, only Dumbledore could enter that tower, and no one knew where the Headmaster spent his summer vacations.

Imprisoned in the high tower, drinking together to reminisce about the past, playing binding games, and so on—anything was possible during such a long time…

The Viking warship slowly moved forward, and in front of them, close to the wall, there was a protruding platform fixed at the highest point of the building.

That was their destination, where the ship would eventually dock.

Elaine gripped Evan’s sleeve tightly, seemingly startled by the scene before her.

It was a huge building. The color of the bricks was mainly dark gold and covered with dust. The most eye-catching thing was that the middle part seemed to have been damaged by something cylindrical from top to bottom. The dome was broken, revealing the moon outside.

The central area was open, and everything inside the building was destroyed.

Judging from the surrounding ruins, the interior decorations seemed to have been exquisite and multilayered, but everything had been destroyed by a powerful force.

It felt as if a stick from the mountain had pierced through, destroying everything in its path.

Of course, looking at the traces of destruction around, the stick that caused all this seemed infinitely thick, infinitely large, and infinitely long—beyond imagination.

Evan was more inclined to think that it had been destroyed by a powerful energy rather than a physical object.

In short, there was nothing under the gap in the dome, but a bottomless abyss.

As far as the eye could see, there was no end in sight.

The Viking warship sailed quietly over the abyss, and beneath their feet, a sound resembling waves came from the huge pit.

This was the sound that Harry heard, not the waves, but the howling of the wind blowing across the rocks, where they met to form a huge vortex of air that would suck everyone into it, sucking them into the deepest depths of hell. These sounds were the welcoming voices from the underworld.

Not to mention going down into this terrifying abyss, just standing here made Evan feel intense dizziness.

The position they were in now was very dangerous. In the darkness, abyss, ruins, and full moon, the human figures seemed so small and insignificant, not to mention the tall and realistic reliefs on the undamaged surrounding walls.

They were all statues of ancient Viking warriors with ferocious faces, holding weapons in their hands.

Statue after statue, from top to bottom, densely covered the entire wall.

Evan couldn’t explain why, but he had a feeling that these statues seemed to be alive…

Besides, he still had strong questions in his mind. What exactly was this huge building? And how had it been damaged? Looking at the extent of the destruction around, how much power did it take to do this?!

“Professor, did Grindelwald create this space?” Evan asked.

“I don’t think so. He should have discovered this place and rearranged some magic. This building should have been built by ancient spellcasters. This Viking warship beneath our feet, the five hundred and forty gates of Valhalla and the surrounding statues…” A white haze of light emitted from the tip of Dumbledore’s wand blocked the cold wind blowing from below. He looked at the Viking warrior statues on the surrounding walls and fell into deep thought. “This reminds me of an interesting place.”

“What place?” Sirius asked.

“The Hall of Valor,” said Dumbledore gently. “I don’t know if you have heard of it.”

“Hall of Valor?!” After hearing Dumbledore’s hint, Evan also remembered it.

No wonder he had a familiar feeling just now. The warship, the five hundred and forty doors, the enormous dark golden building, and the Viking warriors in front of them—all these pieces of information from Norse mythology combined to lead to one conclusion.

This was the legendary Hall of Valor. They had truly arrived at an extraordinary place.

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