The architectural style of Iran's magical world is largely derived from the ancient aggressive copycat empire of Persia, which was undoubtedly the most desirable period for local wizards.

Because of this, there are still many traces of ancient Egypt, ancient Greece and even ancient Babylon in the area where Iranian shamans lived.

Of course, in fact, it was precisely because the Persian wizards at that time interfered too much with the political and military power of the Muggles, which completely aroused the dissatisfaction of the wizards in the surrounding countries, and finally led to the overlapping dynasties of the Persian Empire, which was almost "day and night".

Although they were not as cruel in their treatment of Muggle subjects as one might think.

In any case, it was a thing of the past, and no one can say what happened back then.

If you want to evaluate the current Iranian magic world, you must focus on the present.

For example, at this time, Maca and the others were about to go to one of the largest pure wizard settlements in Iran's magical world. And in the easternmost part of this alley, which is full of earthy stone columns, round spired houses, and various wall reliefs, a temple palace with a typical Greek style stands out.

The Iranian wizarding world is one of the few wizarding circles in the wizarding world today that still has a church organization.

Unlike Muggles, however, like the Druids that were prevalent in the wizarding world, the Wizarding Church did not have a belief in gods, but only the worship of ancestors or nature.

At this moment, in the deepest part of the palace, surrounded by striped stone pillars, a withered old man wearing a gray-white robe, wearing a crown and holding a long staff was sitting on a white carved stone platform, his eyes slightly closed and motionless. If it weren't for the slight heaving of his chest, I'm afraid anyone would think he was dead.

And on the left and right sides of the stone platform, more than a dozen wizards dressed in uniform robes all stood with their eyes down, and no one said a word.

A little further out are the outsiders gathered in this temple. A small half of them were Indian shamans with turbans and red dots on their eyebrows, while the rest were mostly small scattered people from different countries.

At this moment, the hall was very dim, only a few braziers on the pillars were burning flames, and the flickering light of the fire illuminated the crowd in the hall indistinctly.

But even though there were so many wizards gathered here, even though most of them were people they had never met, none of them spoke from beginning to end. They were all silent, like the cultists in the deepest part of the hall, as if waiting for something.

Suddenly, the flames in the brazier jumped in unison, causing everyone in the hall to raise their heads. In the blurred darkness, nearly two hundred pairs of eyes all set their gaze on the deepest part of the main hall.

“…… Cough. ”

On the carved stone platform, the old man suddenly coughed dryly, causing his whole body to tremble. And the next moment, the flames jumped again, as if something was pulling them at the same time.

It was at this moment that the old man's half-closed eyes slowly opened.

"Sin...... Sin is in the air...... Many great sins have been made...... Finding the key...... Open the door...... Look for...... Key ......"

The eyes were ethereal, the voice was hoarse and distorted, but no one dared to ignore the intermittent words.

Yes, even Maca, who stood in the shadows outside the temple gate, was listening intently, not wanting to miss a word. He was glad that the prophecy was made in Old Persian, the standard phonetic of Sumerian cuneiform. If he were to speak in Persian, which is popular among the modern Iranians, he would not understand a word......

Just now, Maca groped all the way here. And on the way to this hall, he, Lupin, and Sirius naturally passed by many wizard guards.

Right now, the other two were leaving the place with two wizards who looked like small leaders, and ran to inquire in a place where no one was on the periphery.

And Maca, on the other hand, went all the way to the outside of the innermost palace, intending to see the situation first.

"It's the so-called 'sin' again......" he thought silently as he leaned against the wall, "and it looks like the one talking inside must be some kind of prophetic like Professor Trelawney...... However, the key? Doors? What does this mean? ”

However, the old man in the depths of the hall was obviously much more capable than Trelawney. At least he's not like the latter, except for his erratic prophetic abilities, all that is left is a fool.

Just as Maca was secretly chewing on those words, there was a sudden coughing sound in the hall, and it was much louder than before.

Immediately after, the red flame in the brazier jumped for the third time.

“…… Suffering...... Incomparably cold edge...... The blade that humiliates the soul...... Heir to pain! Near...... It's close...... Very close! ”

The old man's hoarse voice grew louder and louder, and at last it was almost a roar, as if it was about to cut his own throat as well.

Then, his eyes suddenly regained their brightness, and he slammed the staff in his hand on the tiles under the stone platform.

"Heir to the Dagger of Pain...... Right outside the temple door! ”

As mentioned earlier, the old prophet did not understand what Maca was saying now. But as the words fell, a chaotic sound of footsteps suddenly sounded in the hall, making it impossible for him not to understand.

Because those footsteps are obviously coming in the direction of the door!

"Found me?" Maca wasn't too nervous, he was only slightly stunned, and then quickly jumped forward, "The phrase 'The heir of pain is close'...... Could it be me? ”

Jumping into the open space in front of the hall, he suddenly turned around, only to see that the door of the main hall had been opened a crack. And the moment he looked over, a black shadow flew out from the crack in the door, so fast that it was impossible to see the specific appearance.

But Maca clearly sensed that it was also a wizard, and that she had hidden in the shadows behind the stone pillar on her left.

One figure followed, and another, with the same speed and dexterity, one after the other disappeared into the line of sight around him. It looked like the guys were planning to surround him completely.

At the same time, the main entrance of the main hall has been completely pushed open. A large number of wizards poured out of it, huddled next to each other and stood in the doorway, all eyes piled on Maca's body.

But Maca didn't care so much, he was still frowning and pondering. Because a trace of memory was looming in his mind, along with the previous wave of déjà vu, constantly stimulating his nerves.

"Oh, that's ......," he said, "yes, the dagger that once buried my emotions...... The circumstances of the night of the assassination were very similar to those seen today. ”

Of course it's not the same place, Maca still knows that, it's just that the feeling is very similar.

And the one who lit up his memory that was almost left in a corner of his heart were the six black-robed wizards who had just rushed out of the main hall. They were incredibly fast, and at the same time so fast that Maca knew them very well.

"Prophet, won't you come out and explain the situation to me?"

Maka ignored the sudden tense atmosphere around her, and as she spoke in Ancient Persian, her gaze pierced into the darkest depths of the temple door. On that carved stone platform, the figure of the old man sitting on it is half visible and half hidden, which makes people look unreal.

"Inheritor, return the dagger of pain to my ......"

The old man's voice echoed through the empty hall, and by the time it reached the door, it had become indistinct, but Maca could barely make sense.

It's just that he somehow said what kind of successor he was, and then he didn't say anything about handing over the dagger of pain himself.

He'd already guessed what the "dagger of pain" was—but he didn't, and even if the dagger was in his hand now, would he have handed it over obediently?

"You're not going to come out, are you?" Maca nodded and said, "Okay, then I'll come in by myself." ”

If you can hear the two prophecies just now, you can already say that you have earned it. But if he could pry some more explanation out of the prophet's mouth, he wouldn't mind any more effort.

As soon as he spoke, he had an extra staff in his hand.

It has to be said that since the incident between Voldemort and Greenwald has passed, he has rarely used this thing. In ordinary life, the cane is really inconvenient, and maybe it can be used as a crutch when you are old, but now it is obviously not necessary.

And as soon as his staff appeared, the six black-robed cultists hiding in the corner immediately moved!

They are very fast, but Maca is not slower than them. After activating the swiftness ability, a total of seven figures together with him staggered in an instant, and several cold streamers appeared and disappeared, followed by a crisp impact sound that was almost practiced together.

That's a blade! It's the remnants of the six blades bathed in the moonlight in an instant!

Modern wizards rarely use weapons other than wands. But in ancient times, when the knowledge of the elves to create magical blades was not lost, various weapons were also popular among wizards. Even at that time, there were several lineages of wizards who were good at crafting magical weapons.

Of course, to this day, the tradition of using weapons may still be vaguely remembered by the sporadic wizarding community, but the magic blade has become an extremely rare treasure.

Maca was very sure that the six blades were all ordinary short swords, and at best they were the ones with better forging skills. For the dagger that first came into contact with his staff was broken.