I, Hogwarts Second Time Around.

Chapter 353 The Abode of the Gods

Except for the one in the very center, the other stone tablets are inlaid with gold engravings. Each tablet has seven layers of engravings, and each layer depicts a different story.

Apart from the tallest stele, the other six seem to be monuments recording history, from the time when a wizard received divine inspiration and set off to come here, then began to build a city, and then dug something on the Sky Island to offer to the gods.

Finally, there is a ritual of offering sacrifices to the gods, praying that the gods will allow their spirits to enter the divine kingdom or grant them power.

After passing seven stone tablets, Irving gained a general understanding of the city.

It is not difficult to discern from these gold engravings an organization that serves an external god, operating in a remote corner of the world.

"The Order!"

The Order – its full name is: The Order of the Favored Ones of God.

Abbreviation: The Favored Ones Cult.

It is a vast organization established by black wizards who have been seduced by Outer Gods.

Its origin is now untraceable.

The intelligence Owen received from Koyatel was that the Cult of the Chosen was a vast organization encompassing multiple races and spanning several continents.

It is led and coordinated by a council of seven.

Fortunately, this organization has been wiped out by the Archmage in its hostility towards its successor, especially the legendary wizard Merlin.

For nearly a century, although some have tried to rebuild the organization, they have been unable to revive it because they have not received divine revelation.

This city was clearly built by members of the Order during its heyday, many years ago. The city still stands, but the people who built it have long since passed away.

While Irving was deep in thought.

Sirius Black suddenly cried out from a distance.

"Irving, come here!"

Hearing the sound, Irving turned his head and saw that he had already walked out of the square.

The foundation of the square was very high, and he stood below it, with only his head showing.

"Boom!" A loud roar came from the bottom of the plaza steps, and Owen quickly went over.

Then he saw that beneath the foundation of the square, there was not a unified boulder, but rather a series of dungeons.

The dungeon had very narrow doors and windows, from which countless gaunt hands were reaching out.

"What's going on?"

Sirius's curse blew up a door and window, and shattered white boulders collapsed to the ground.

Through the sunlight, they saw the faces of many people who looked terrified.

Most of them were dressed neatly, but their complexions and spirits were poor; they were thin and looked like they hadn't eaten for many days.

Now that the gates have been blasted open, they show no intention of coming out. Instead, they keep shrinking deeper into the cage. Whenever Irving's gaze sweeps over them, people tremble with fear, and some even cry out in grief.

Owen saw a little girl with red eyes and a weak face, tears twitching down her cheeks. But when she opened her mouth to cry out, the woman behind her seemed to have lost all hope and quickly reached out to cover the little girl's mouth.

Then she looked at him in horror.

With just that one action, Irving already understood what had happened here.

"They were probably captured by Death Eaters to be sacrificed to the gods."

"A sacrifice?" Sirius was both shocked and furious, his eyes blazing with anger.

He had just been harboring a tiny, unrealistic hope that Bella could work with Irving.

That delusion has now vanished.

He had never been so angry that he frightened the poor Muggles.

"What do they want the sacrifices for? What does that evil god want?" he roared.

"It's nothing more than souls and flesh and blood. The stone tablet over there is clearly carved with sacrificial rituals," Owen said quietly, as if he was suppressing something.

Finally, the anger was suppressed.

Sirius took several deep breaths to calm himself down, then reached into his waist pocket.

There lay the food he had brought to the giants, as well as the food for the young wizards.

He took them all out.

They were handed over to the poor people in the prison.

The Muggles still didn't trust them, but they couldn't resist their hunger.

The dungeon only had a few streams seeping from under the floor tiles, and food was out of the question.

They have been locked up here for far too long, and because there is no clock, they can only remember that day and night have alternated about a few dozen times.

With food, the Muggles finally began to trust them a little more.

Some people emerged, basking in the sunlight, and wept uncontrollably.

The crying wasn't loud because they didn't have much strength, so all you could see was their bodies twitching silently.

Then more and more Muggles emerged from the dungeon; there were about fifty or sixty of them.

They were strictly divided into two classes.

On one side, there was a small group of strong, mostly male people, while on the other side, there was another class consisting of women and their husbands who were physically weak and not very fit.

Irving initially didn't pay attention to these things.

As the crowd surged out, a strong smell of blood suddenly wafted over, causing him to frown repeatedly and glance into the dungeon.

Then I understood everything.

"I need to conduct an experiment. I want to try out that sacrificial ritual," Owen said, turning his head to Sirius.

"What?" The dog godfather, who was still distributing food, thought he had misheard. He turned to stare at Owen, his eyes filled with confusion.

"What did you just say?"

"See for yourself—" Owen pointed to the dungeon.

Sirius followed the direction Owen was pointing, and his pupils instantly contracted, his stomach churning. If he hadn't been so knowledgeable, if he hadn't already witnessed the evil of humanity in Azkaban, he would have definitely vomited up his lunch.

Sirius, his mind blank, turned his head to look at the clearly divided crowd.

Then he understood everything.

Especially those clothes stained with blood and bits of flesh.

And—Sirius's voice was deep and resonant, like a volcano about to erupt with molten lava.

He walked dejectedly into the crowd and approached the only little girl present.

When he touched the girl, he understood why she was the only one still alive.

"A five- or six-year-old Momo Ran is truly rare." Owen's voice carried a hint of sarcasm.

The sound was like a thunderbolt, striking Sirius's heart heavily.

With his fists clenched, he stood silently like an angry lion.

Owen glanced at him, then waved his wand and several blood-stained beasts were swept up by an invisible force and brought to the square.

This caused a gasp from the Muggles in the audience.

They were shocked by Irving's methods, but they watched the beast's impending death with indifference, without any regret or fear. Instead, they felt a sense of satisfaction.

Several monsters dressed in human skin struggled and cried out silently.

Arrive at the center of the square.

Beneath the stone tablet.

Following the steps taught on the map on the stone tablet, Owen first slit his neck, letting the blood flow into the golden bowl. Soon, the bowl, which was only the size of a palm, overflowed.

Blood dripped down, landing on the arc of the ground along the conical base.

In an instant, the arc gradually lit up with a faint light, as if it were electrified.

The gold inlaid on the ground suddenly turned into some kind of liquid.

Liquid gold slowly converged from all directions, gathering together on the central stone tablet, quickly covering the marble tablet with a layer of gold paint.

"boom!"

A sound like something breaking rang out.

It turned out that the golden disc on the stone tablet was slowly floating up.

The disc resembles an eye staring at the lamb.

Immediately, the lamb's soul was ripped from its body. It raised its head and let out a silent scream.

Then it twitched for a while and then became still.

A transparent, struggling, evil soul, as if guided, sank into the golden disc.

"Hmm—feeding on souls, and then what?"

Irving looked at the golden disc with great curiosity.

It was emanating a certain misty aura.

Then, the aura intensified and then suddenly flowed out.

As if guided, the waterfall behind them surged forth with a torrent of water, enveloping the soulless corpse.

Three seconds later, the water was restrained by gravity and fell to the ground.

And that corpse—"Wow! A freshly baked son of evil!"

Owen stared in astonishment at the creature, which was as tall as Hagrid and covered in fleshy buds and sharp horns.

"So that's how the Omens are made." He understood perfectly, a slight smile playing on his lips. No wonder he felt the Omen Legion wasn't very strong in yesterday's battle, except for those corrupting flames which were a bit troublesome. Now he knew that the Omens were transformed from Muggles, from non-magical beings to magical beings. To have achieved such a result was already quite remarkable.

It's important to know that wizards throughout history have done a lot of research on how to imbue non-magical creatures with magic. They have conducted all sorts of experiments, such as injecting the blood of magical creatures into the bodies of wizards, or using spells to torture them, and combining them with potions to see if Muggle bodies could 'retain' magic. In short, wizards, especially dark wizards, have tried almost every method except for the union of men and women, but the results are obvious.

Regardless of the method used, Muggles will almost always die immediately.

Now that Irving has witnessed this transformation, he probably understands it now.

It's a problem of the soul, not the body.

"Soul Torrent!"

After raising his hand and evaporating the ugly omen child, Owen turned to look at the other animals.

What would happen if he killed the soul in the flesh before Avada and then sacrificed it?

What happens if the soul and body don't match? For example, one person sacrifices their soul, while another is transformed.

What happens if multiple souls are sacrificed to transform only one person? Could an even more powerful Child of the Ominous be born?

What if he adds something to this sacrificial ritual? Like adding magic to the tide?

In short, a million ideas popped into Irving's head.

Full of enthusiasm, he quickly began his experiment.

Meanwhile, Sirius was talking to the child's mother.

Everyone present could see that the two wizards in front of them were not from the same group as before; although they were somewhat kind, they were not many.

The one over there is even more evil.

Sirius Black showed kindness to the child's mother, but she was very resistant to him, especially after he revealed that her daughter was a wizard. The child's mother, as if she had just caught a cat, bared her teeth at him and started cursing, saying that her girl was not a monster like him.

This left Sirius at a loss for words when he tried to talk to her.

At that moment, he suddenly thought of Hermione. She, who also came from a Muggle family, was probably the one who could have common topics with this group of people. As for himself, he couldn't even tell the difference between the subway and the train, so there was no need to make things difficult for him.

After the meal, the atmosphere around them calmed down considerably. This was if they didn't pursue the matter of what was happening in the square.

The starving little girl ate the equivalent of an adult's meal, and Sirius kept feeding her, which eased their relationship slightly, but only slightly, because the girl's mother still harbored strong hostility towards him.

"Are you that concerned?"

Sometime later, Irving returned to the edge of the square.

As he sat on the steps, the people around him subconsciously moved away from him.

"Anyway, that girl won't live past ten. It's questionable whether such a young Silent One will even survive this year. What, you still want her to go to school?"

"Then what should I do? Let her die?" Sirius roared, his voice filled with suppressed indignation, a furious denunciation of the injustice of fate.

"Put aside your desire to help others and respect their fate. Even Newt couldn't help the Obscurus, so what can you do?"

Why tell people that her child is a witch?

Her child won't live past ten, so instead of getting caught up in her witch identity, she might as well live a carefree life. Owen spread his hands lazily and said, "Don't create unnecessary trouble for yourself."

Owen's voice was simple and light, but to the girl's mother it was like an earthquake. She glared at Owen and Sirius, and said, "You—you poisoned my daughter, didn't you? God! She's so young, why did you hurt her, why—"

Her wailing and howling drew the attention of the other Muggles. Although they didn't dare to open their mouths to rebuke Owen and Sirius, their malicious, hateful gazes, filled with the desire to kill the two, were also everyone's wish.

"See—we've gotten ourselves into trouble again," Irving said.

Sirius remained silent for a long while before finally speaking, "I'm different from you. I have a guilty conscience!"

"."

"Yes, yes, yes—I have no conscience, my conscience has been eaten by dogs," Irving retorted sarcastically.

Sirius glared at him but was powerless to do anything about it.

"Leave the food here. We have other things to do. I've just discovered a strange magical pathway."

Irving stood up, a gentle breeze ruffling his silver hair. He waved and walked down to the cornerstone on his right.

That led to a magnificent building.

He walked very fast, showing no intention of waiting for Sirius.

On the main avenue leading to the largest building, the ground was also etched with huge runic arcs, just like in the square. But this time, they were not arranged according to the constellations, but merely decorations, a guidepost—Owen's guess.

Central Avenue wasn't very long, and soon he arrived at the palace gates.

It was a magnificent gate.

The entire piece is milky white, decorated with gold, and the black feather-like carvings on the door are magnificent and beautiful, full of a compassionate beauty.

Pushing open the door, you are greeted by a large hall, at the far end of which are seven stone chairs that appear to be made of silver.

The backrests of the stone chairs connect to the ceiling. If the entire hall was carved out of the mountain, then those chairs must have been carved from a single piece of stone from the mountain.

Beneath his feet, the eerie blue magical light continued to guide Owen's path.

This was his discovery: after the sacrifice of more than a dozen souls, a ghostly blue magic flowed from the golden disc in the square. The magic landed on the golden rings and runes on the ground, like conductive wires, and spread all the way into the palace.

Beyond the seven chairs, at the end of the magic, appeared a magnificent model of Earth's planetary orbit.

A massive model of Earth cast from an unknown material, its entire continental topography outlined by magic.

Irving was immediately drawn to the model.

Because on this Earth, which is only a dozen feet in diameter, magic transformed into vortexes that clearly marked several locations.

Even someone with Justin's brain could tell that it was definitely the location of the divinely ordained tower.

Irving counted them; there are seven in the world.

As he guessed, the obelisk in the whirlpool of the Sicilian Strait was indeed a divinely ordained tower given by the gods to resist the outer gods.

There is one each in the waters near Brazil in North America and South America, Australia, and India.

There is also one off the east coast of Britain, and the location looks very familiar to Owen.

"Damn, isn't that Azkaban's location?"

"Could it be? Azkaban is the Tower of God?" Owen couldn't help but have this thought, but upon closer inspection, something didn't seem right. Azkaban originated in the 15th century, so the timeline didn't match up!

The fortress was originally the home of an unknown sorcerer who called himself Extis. He possessed immense magical power, but his nationality was unknown. Extis wielded the most wicked dark magic, and also took pleasure in luring, torturing, and murdering Muggle sailors who passed through the area.

People believed he had gone insane. It wasn't until after his death, when the concealment charm he had cast lost its effect, that the Ministry of Magic became aware of the island and the structure. Those who went to investigate afterwards only mentioned that the place was teeming with Dementors and refused to reveal any further details.

Afterwards, the Ministry of Magic and the Dementors reached an agreement—in reality, the wizards dared not destroy the castle, fearing that if the castle were destroyed, the Dementors would swarm out. Every wall of Azkaban was filled with torment and pain, and the Dementors relied on these to survive.

Experts who have studied the building and its connection to dark magic claim that the link is so deep that anyone attempting to damage it could face the wrath of the Dementors. The fortress was thus abandoned for many years, continuing to harbor large hordes of Dementors, until the International Confederation of Wizards' Act of Secrecy was enacted, and the Ministry of Magic remembered this auspicious location near British waters.

Eventually, the Ministry of Magic converted the castle into a prison, which is how Azkaban came to be.

(End of this chapter)