Bab 82: Are My Hands Poisonous?

Editor: Atlas Studios

Since ordinary means could not kill Voldemort, Ivan was prepared to try it with a fierce fire!

He did not believe that the fire that claimed to be able to burn everything and never go out could not destroy this body…

"No!" Voldemort shouted at the top of his lungs, apparently having sensed this, and would have been destroyed if he had been pushed into the flames.

His body, which had been drained of life force, could no longer squeeze out any potential, so Voldemort had no choice but to use one hand in exchange for a certain amount of strength to protect himself.

As his left arm exploded and his flesh was devoured by magic, more black mist poured out of Voldemort's body, corroding the Unicorn's Shadow that was made of magic…

It was a contest of magic and time, and even though Ivan's magic nearly doubled when he completed the Merge, it was only twice as much as a lesser wizard's, having been squandered in the course of several large-scale expenditures.

Voldemort was in a similar condition, with a hole in his chest, several broken ribs, and a broken arm.

Fortunately, due to Quirrell's physical condition, Voldemort did not feel any pain when he used it… but he was still being pushed against the wall by the Unicorn. Death was only a matter of time…

In this stalemate, Ivan was the first to give in. The repeated transfusion of magic made his brain dizzy, and his body's cells warned him. If he had not been maintaining the experience card's overdrive operation, he would have fainted.

After barely holding on for a while, the unicorn made of white light and shadow gradually dissipated, and with the last of its strength, it was able to flip its opponent over, sending Voldemort crashing into the Mirror of Eris nearby, his wand falling to the ground.

Voldemort, however, smiled, for he could see the look of defiance in the unicorn's scarlet eyes before it vanished.

"Hahahaha… I still won!"

Voldemort pushed himself up with his only hand and picked up the wand from the floor. The corners of his two superimposed faces cracked, and his hideous laughter echoed through the vast space…

As he laughed, Voldemort's laughter died, as he realised that Ivan's face was devoid of despair or disappointment…

"Harry, don't play dead, get up and put it in his face!" Ivan shouted at Harry, who was lying dead on the ground not far from Voldemort, his eyes tightly shut.

During the previous stalemate, when Ivan's magic was about to run out, he was keenly aware that Harry's body seemed to have moved, so he promptly changed his mind about competing with Voldemort in terms of mana consumption.

Because Ivan knew very well that the black mist might kill him, but never Harry!

As Voldemort watched in disbelief, Harry Potter, who should have been dead to him, leapt to his feet and flew at him!

In fact, Harry was not lying on the ground, pretending to be dead, as Yvonne had expected.

After inhaling a large amount of the black mist, Harry was certain that he would die and fell into a temporary coma, but something inside him seemed to be protecting him from the black mist.

It wasn't until Voldemort retrieved all of the black mist and focused on dealing with Ivan that the power that protected him gradually allowed him to regain consciousness and mobility. However, his body was still somewhat numb and he could barely keep his eyes open.

However, Harry knew very well that the battle was at its most critical point, so he ignored his own weakness and forced himself to get up and place his hands on Voldemort's grotesque snake face, as Ivan had instructed.

The withered snake face was like a piece of rag, with some sort of slippery yellow liquid on it…

A sizzling noise spread from the point of contact, and Voldemort howled in pain, his face peeling away as if he had been burned with a hot iron. He kicked Harry hard, but was unable to stop his body from collapsing…

Harry slumped to the ground, staring at Voldemort's sorry state, then looking at his hands in disbelief. He had only touched them twice…

Is my hand poisoned …

Harry didn't know whether to be pleased or dismayed as he thought…

"Shatter!" Ivan gathered the last of his magic and aimed his wand at Voldemort's crumbling form…

Sorry, this head is mine!

Ivan watched as Voldemort's body exploded, turning into dust and floating in the air. The system voice in Ivan's head fell to the ground in satisfaction, losing all its strength…

Voldemort's black soul roared out of his dust-formed body and swept towards Ivan.

However, before he could touch it, the illusory soul suddenly changed direction and rushed out of the room.

The next moment, the ghostly blue phoenix flew in over the black flames, its body glowing with a soothing blue light as it wandered around the room…

Seeing this phoenix, Ivan's heart finally relaxed, but he still couldn't help but curse…

Dumbledore, how timely of you…

Ivan cursed in his heart, but after relaxing, all kinds of tired emotions welled up in his heart. He resisted for a while, but eventually fell asleep.

As Ivan lost consciousness, Dumbledore's voice came from the front door.

"Curse all!"

The black flames that had been blocking the door were now dying out, and this magical force was spreading into the wide interior room.

The Fire, which was said to never go out, could not escape its fate of vanishing under this power.

"Professor! Quick! Ivan and Harry are in there…" Hermione burst in as soon as the black flames went out.

Of course, the young witch did not forget to grab Dumbledore's sleeve and pull him in, with Ron trailing behind, panting.

The three of them entered the wide room and were greeted by a dilapidated scene:

Most of the twelve columns used to support the room were broken, and large chunks of rock were strewn across the floor. The walls around the room were scorched and broken, and there were signs of damage from powerful enchantments everywhere.

The extent of the battle was unexpected, even for Dumbledore, who had watched it from the perspective of his Patronus before entering the room.

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