Harry stepped through the giant stone gate, and as it slammed shut behind him, he knew there would be no turning back. The air was dry and scorching, and as he looked down, his boots crunched against fine golden sand. The entire chamber stretched wide like a buried coliseum, its ceiling lost in shadows and walls lined with snake carvings glowing faintly with runes.
"Looks like we've gone from swamp to desert," Harry muttered, adjusting his grip on his sword.
He could feel the heat radiating from the floor and the static hum of ancient magic swirling in the air. The dungeon had changed its nature — no longer murky and wet, but blisteringly dry. Every step he took left footprints that quickly faded as the sand shifted unnaturally behind him.
Suddenly, the ground ahead exploded.
A massive serpent burst from beneath the sand with a hiss that echoed through the stone. Not one, not two—but three heads towered above him, each hissing in perfect dissonance.
[Boss Identified: RUNESPOOR – The Desert Oracle]
[Level: 30 (Stats Vary by Head)]
[HP: 7500 / 7500]
[Traits: Triple Minded, Immune to Mental Attacks, Resistant to Fire, Poison, Water]
Each head had a distinct color, the right head, orange-scaled with narrow slit-eyes, bared long fangs and hissed madly. The middle head, black-scaled and solemn, stared at Harry with eerie calm and the left head, green-scaled and twitchy, muttered nonsense under its breath.
"A Runespoor," Harry whispered, eyes wide. "The magical serpent with three minds... Judgement, Planning, Madness."
[Middle Head – Planner: Predicts attacks. Counters strategies.]
[Left Head – Seer: Speaks riddles, has mild precognition.]
[Right Head – Executioner: Aggressive. Physical strikes.]
[Special Ability: Tri-Cast Runes – Each head casts a different element simultaneously.]
"This is going to be hard," Harry muttered, backing away as the heads flared their frills and magic surged.
Harry dodged sideways as the orange head lunged with brutal speed, narrowly avoiding its strike.
"Too fast for its size!"
With a flick of his hand, Harry activated his Equip ability, summoning his enchanted mithril sword and slipping on the Serpent Sight Ring, something he got from the vault. His body shimmered with the light of his equipped Blackfyre armor, giving him added resistance.
"Flame Lance!"
A spear of fire shot from his palm, striking the orange head. It hissed and recoiled, smoke rising—but the damage was minimal.
[Damage Dealt: 88 – Partial Resistance]
[HP: 7412 / 7500]
The black head chanted in Parseltongue, runes flaring beneath the sand. Then—
"Tri-Cast Rune!"
Each head opened its mouth. A fireball, a gust of cutting wind, and a blinding flash of light erupted from the Runespoor simultaneously.
"Protego Maxima!"
Harry's shield absorbed the brunt of it, but the sheer impact sent him skidding backward, sand spraying in all directions.
Harry crouched behind a column, panting.
"Each head has a role… the green one mutters nonsense… or riddles? The orange head is the attacker. The black one… that's the planner."
He peeked out and cast Observe again, this time targeting the green head.
[Runespoor – Left Head: Seer]
[Trait: Mild Precognition. Predicts enemy intention. Weakest link.]
"So if I distract or injure that one…"
He dashed forward, blades glowing with arcane enhancement, and slashed at the green head. The serpent reared in confusion—each head jerking out of sync. The orange head missed a strike, the black one hesitated in its casting.
"Bingo!"
He tossed a stunning bomb at the green head. It exploded in a flash of light and smoke. The Runespoor thrashed, clearly disoriented.
Harry's body shimmered and twisted, shrinking down into a sleek black wolf. He darted between the coils, slashing with his fangs and dodging tail sweeps. He shifted back into human form behind the Runespoor's coiled tail and leapt onto its back.
"Soul Drain."
His hand glowed dark purple as he drained magical energy from the beast, but not too much. He needed it alive—weak, but not dead yet.
The Runespoor roared, writhing, tossing Harry into the air. He landed hard but rolled with the impact.
[HP: 420 / 620]
[MP: 680 / 1100]
"Stagger it… then finish it."
Harry pulled a flask from his inventory — Elixir of Focused Will — and drank it. A surge of energy washed over him. His spellcasting speed nearly doubled.
"Time to dance."
He cast Aqua Bind, Freeze Snap, and Shock Chain in rapid succession—ice and lightning chaining across the serpent's coils. It shrieked in frustration, too slow to counter. The green head took the worst of it, writhing and coughing steam.
[Critical Hit – Green Head]
[HP: 4020 / 7500]
"Let's try this…"
He cast Mirror Image, creating three copies of himself that ran in different directions. The Runespoor's orange head struck one — an illusion. The black head tried to predict his movement — but was distracted.
"Now!"
Harry leapt onto the serpent's neck again and drove his blade straight into the green head's eye.
[Critical! Green Head Disabled!]
[Runespoor Status: Confused. Coordination Failure]
The orange and black heads thrashed blindly, out of sync, casting poorly timed spells that missed by feet. Harry activated Blackfyre Mode — his armor surged with dark runes, his sword glowing black and red.
"Flame Lance – Blackfyre Variant!"
A massive flaming spear, laced with necrotic energy, spiraled through the air and struck the serpent's heart — the point where all three heads converged.
[Boss Defeated: Runespoor – Desert Oracle]
[XP Gained: 5600]
[Level Up! ➝ 18]
[Loot Drop Triggered]
The creature collapsed with an echoing groan, dissolving into golden sand. Silence filled the chamber.
Glowing orbs rose into the air.
[Loot Acquired:]
Galleons ×1420
Runespoor Core Crystal (Legendary)
Parseltongue Ability
Spellbook: Serpent's Tri-Magic
Ring of Salazar Slytherin
Runespoor Hide Mantle
Harry dropped to one knee, panting. His robes were torn, blood on his arm, but his eyes gleamed.
"That… was easily my hardest fight yet."
He grinned as he picked up the spellbook and the core crystal.
"Can't wait to see what I can craft with these."
He took one last look at the now-quiet chamber, then turned and walked toward the tunnel that opened beyond the defeated boss.
Another dungeon conquered. Another step closer to becoming unstoppable.
[Status Window]
[Name: Harry James Potter]
[Level: 18]
[EXP: 0 / 1800]
[Class: Shape Shifter]
[Title: The Silent Butcher]
[HP: 650 / 650]
[MP: 1200 / 1200]
[Stamina: 500 / 500]
[Strength: 40]
[Dexterity: 38]
[Intelligence: 55]
[Wisdom: 48]
[Endurance: 46]
[Luck: 40]
[Charisma: 30]
[Currency: £: 1500 / G: 4600 / S: 12]
[Skill List]
[Parseltongue] – Lv. Max
[Skin Changer] – Lv. 1
[Shadow Veil] – Lv. 9
[Death Ward] – Lv. 7
[Soul Drain] – Lv. 12
[Bone Spear] – Lv. 7
[Wraith Flight] – Lv. 12
[Wind Step] – Lv. 11
[Poison Mist Attack] – Lv. 8
[Fireball] – Lv. 10
[Water Shield] – Lv. 8
[Observe] – Lv. 9
[ID Create] – Lv. 5
[ID Escape] – Lv. 5
[Soul Read] – Lv. 4
[Stat Points to Distribute: 0]
Harry had intended to return straight to the Zeus Hotel, rest, and enjoy his hard-earned gold and loot. But as he walked toward Grimsby, he noticed something unusual on the eastern side of the town—a series of magic-dense pulses flickering on his system map. Though he was bruised and tired from clearing the snake dungeon, the surge of magic he sensed from the eastern edge of Grimsby pulled him in. It was unlike anything he had felt recently—old, dense, and serpentine in nature.
Following the pulse on his magical map, he found himself standing before what looked like the skeletal remains of an ancient fortress. The broken towers, shattered serpent statues, and cracked green tiles whispered one name louder than any other:
Slytherin.
[Observe Lv. 9]
Slytherin Castle (Ruins)
The ancestral fortress of Salazar Slytherin, co-founder of Hogwarts.
This location contains ancient Parseltongue magic, sealed dungeons, and forbidden artifacts.
Dungeon Classification: "Mythic-Class."
Harry's breath caught in his throat.
This wasn't a dungeon. It was a legacy.
The ruins were buzzing with activity. Wizards and goblins, many wearing the black and gold livery of Gringotts, and a group of hired witches and wizards clearly working under their supervision. There were tents set up, enchanted crates hovering mid-air, and glowing rune-scanners marking safe areas.
Harry used his minor metamorph ability, now appeared as a short, mature wizard in his forties with a moustache, grey-streaked hair, and a practical dueling robe. He walked slowly toward the heart of the operation.
There, a heated argument was breaking out between two goblins and a tall, red-robed wizard.
"You promised us access to the lower levels!" the wizard hissed. "We've already broken through six enchanted doorways!"
"And what did you find?" snapped the goblin in response. "Nothing but walls sealed in Parselmagic. Your unlocking spells are worthless here!"
Hidden Passage – Sealed by Salazar's Final Trial.
Requires spoken Parseltongue keyphrase.
Unauthorized access will trigger magical collapse.
He raised an eyebrow. Parseltongue keyphrase. So no matter how powerful the team was, none could pass because they didn't speak the language of serpents.
They don't know what they're standing on, Harry thought. A castle protected by Parselmagic isn't just locked. It's alive. Watching. Waiting for the right blood—or voice—to wake it.
He smirked internally. Because while no one here could bypass the snake wards...
He could.
The moment Harry stepped deeper into the excavation zone of the ruined castle, he instinctively activated [Observe] on the surrounding figures. It wasn't long before he spotted the one in charge—a sharp-eyed goblin, wearing the insignia of a high-ranking Gringotts official. Even the other goblins subtly deferred to him.
[Observe Lv. 9]
Name: Tragnok Stonespike
Rank: Senior Excavation Overseer – Gringotts
Reputation: Ruthless, meticulous, and loyal to treasure over politics.
Current Goal: Unlock the deeper chambers of the Slytherin castle using any means necessary.
Harry's instincts were right. Tragnok was the decision-maker here.
Although the entire site was veiled in muggle-repelling wards, and multiple magical concealments kept it hidden from the non-magical world, every witch, wizard, and goblin present noticed the sudden arrival of a short wizard with a moustache and confident posture.
No one recognized him. That was good.
Harry stepped forward, stopping just in front of the arguing group. His disguised voice was calm and clear.
"I believe I can help you with the problem you are facing," Harry said. "I am a Parselmouth. I speak the language of snakes. That's likely the key you're missing."
Tragnok narrowed his eyes. "A likely claim. And what proof do you have, little wizard?"
Before Harry could answer, the red-robed wizard who had been arguing earlier stepped forward, drawing his wand.
"I'll summon a snake," he said with a shrug. "If he lies, the creature will bite him."
With a casual flick, he conjured a slender, green serpent. It uncoiled slowly, tongue flickering as it examined the crowd.
The moment Harry's eyes met the snake's, he hissed gently, fluently, a long sibilant sentence that made the creature stop and tilt its head in surprise.
"Why have you pulled me from my sunning spot? I was watching birds—delicious birds!"
Harry hissed again, apologizing.
"They needed to see that I speak your tongue. I meant no disrespect."
The snake gave what could only be interpreted as an annoyed shake of its head and muttered:
"Wizards and their vanity…"
Before anyone else could react, the summoner dispelled the snake.
The effect was immediate. The goblins and staff fell into a stunned silence.
A Parselmouth was rare. A non-Slytherin Parselmouth—one who had simply appeared out of nowhere—was unheard of. And now, here he was, offering to unlock what no spell could breach.
The goblin Tragnok Stonespike was no fool.
He had dealt with powerful wizards, cunning tomb raiders, and treasure-hungry lords—but something about this short wizard in front of him set his instincts alight. Tragnok could tell the man wasn't here just for glory or coin.
Still, protocol had to be followed.
"We can pay you," Tragnok said finally, folding his arms. "Five thousand galleons, upfront. Standard fee for based consultancy. And if any other Gringotts excavation requires a Parselmouth, we'll contact you. It'll be good business."
Harry—still disguised under his metamorph ability—shook his head.
"I don't want your gold," he said simply.
That startled the wizards and goblins nearby. Rejecting that much gold? Either this man was an eccentric... or something far more dangerous.
The red-robed wizard scoffed. "Then we offer you a share. Twenty percent of all wealth and knowledge retrieved from the hidden vaults. Artifacts, scrolls, cursed items—we'll let you pick your share after our inventory is made."
Harry didn't even blink.
"No."
The wizard stared at him, annoyed. "Then what do you want, exactly?"
Harry's tone remained calm, but firm. "Who owns this land? This castle?"
Tragnok's eyes narrowed. "Gringotts does. We bought the property through magical contracts long before it was confirmed to be Slytherin's ancestral castle. A cluster of ruined towers, hidden under anti-Muggle and collapsing stasis charms. We claimed it legally, and we hold full magical ownership."
"Then here's my offer," Harry said, stepping forward.
"You keep everything inside. Every scroll, every artifact, every cursed object, every Galleon. I will help you unlock the vaults, open the sealed chambers, and deal with whatever lies within."
"But—" Harry paused, then added with weight, "—you give me the castle and the land itself. Not now. Not in ruins. But fully repaired and warded with the most powerful goblin wards . You can take everything inside. But the Slytherin Castle—its halls, walls, and history—I want it for myself."
The gathered goblins muttered, surprised by the audacity. Owning a stronghold like this, even if currently in ruins, was no small matter. It was a relic of the Founders—a symbol of ancient power.
The red-robed wizard began to protest, but Tragnok silenced him with a gesture.
"Interesting," the goblin murmured. "You don't ask for wealth. You ask for legacy."
Harry simply nodded.
"And the repairs?" Tragnok asked. "It'll take a considerable sum."
"I assume a bank like Gringotts can handle a few enchantments and stone-mending charms," Harry replied. "This place will be your greatest vault-recovery in a century. And you're getting it for free."
That made the goblin grin—sharp teeth and all.
"Very well," Tragnok said at last. "I'll forward the terms to the Gringotts High Council. Expect a formal contract within two days. If they approve... this castle will be yours."
Harry bowed his head slightly.
"I'll be waiting."