章 274: Chapter 273 "The Dragon Bloodline"

"Hehehehehe——" Skyler's laughter sounded untimely, capturing everyone's attention. The laughter dripped with ridicule, drawing all eyes to him.

"I really can't believe it -" Skyler's voice carried an exaggerated tone of surprise, yet it was laced with undisguised contempt and disdain. "Merlin's beard, what on earth have I witnessed?"

"Are you meeting like-minded partners and planning to form a big alliance of villains?" Skyler continued, his tone mocking. "Is this the legendary combination of 'beauty and basilisk'? Oh, I'm sorry - I momentarily thought of pirate kings. Perhaps 'The Demonic Trio' would be a more fitting name?"

"Even Lord Voldemort, who has held power in Great Britain for over a decade, knows how to set aside his pride, make wise decisions for self-preservation, and evaluate the situation," Morgan remarked with a sweet smile. "Compared to him, you are still young with a long future ahead."

"Will you reconsider, join us, and seek a path to mutual prosperity?" Morgan continued once again, extending her offer to Skyler.

"Hahaha, I'm afraid your approach won't work for me. Being inferior to others means being inferior to others. There is no need to use fancy words of 'seeking common prosperity' to cover it up. I am not as innocent and cute as Lord Voldemort -" Skyler continued, unfazed by Voldemort's livid expression. "Speaking of which, do you know that your overly enthusiastic solicitation rhetoric has exposed your true intentions?"

"There may be something about valuing talent and cherishing talent, but I don't believe that is your real purpose behind it. You said so much. You are nothing more than -" Skyler's playful smile vanished, replaced by a serious expression and shrewd eyes. "You just want me to appease Meredith's soul in you."

The corners of Morgan's lips, previously raised in a smile, smoothed away at Skyler's words. Her demeanor shifted to seriousness as she regarded Skyler, her voice softening. "It seems that you have done a lot of homework. You seem to know a lot about the situation between me and your little girlfriend!"

"Don't underestimate the heritage of the pure-blood family. Looking back carefully, the history of the Malfoy family is even earlier than the Avalon school you created -" Skyler said coldly. "What you did to Meredith wasn't just bloodline fusion - it was an ancient black magic that relies on bloodline fusion as an opportunity to assimilate magic, spirit, soul, and body, eventually replacing the host as the core of the body."

"Well, you actually know about blood fusion. It seems that your intelligence has been greatly underestimated... But even if you know this, so what?"

"In fact, I'm afraid what I know is far beyond your imagination -" Skyler's lips curled up slightly. "Do you know that during your conversation just now, I guessed something else... "

"Oh, really? Tell me, what is it?" Morgan stared at Skyler intently, her fiery eyes shining.

"As you said before, my wand has evolved, and the ancestor of the Thestral is the Night Corpse Dragon——"

"Yes, and what next?" Morgan nodded seriously and asked eagerly.

"Do you still insist on continuing to pretend?" Skyler chuckled softly, raising the wand in his hand. "My wand has indeed undergone magical changes, but ah-"

"I have already used alchemy to coat the outer layer of the wand with a layer of grapevine wood -" Skyler gently pinched the wand, and cracks suddenly appeared on its surface. Layers of thin wooden skin slowly fell off, revealing a slender wand covered in bright silver. Dark golden lines on the wand began to illuminate and dim, creating an illusion that the wand was alive - breathing.

The air around the wand's end seemed to vibrate rapidly, as if invisible magic was about to erupt.

Suddenly, Voldemort and Barbarossa exclaimed "Ah" simultaneously. They looked at each other, their expressions shifting from shock to seriousness.

Just then, their wands vibrated unusually, sending a jolt through their hands, causing numbness and itching. But that was a minor sensation compared to the sudden and inexplicable feeling that the mysterious connection between themselves and their wands had been severed.

They could no longer feel the familiar smoothness and comfort they were accustomed to when wielding their own wands. Now, it felt as though they were using someone else's wand to cast spells as if they were borrowing someone else's magical instrument. Injecting magic into the wand felt awkward and jerky, lacking the usual fluidity.

A dreadful possibility dawned on them: their wands had lost their innate spirituality, becoming mere tools for casting spells rather than symbiotic partners capable of communicating with the caster and resonating with magical energy.

In this state, while they could still cast spells, the speed, fluency, and potency of their magic would be significantly diminished. Facing an ordinary adult wizard or even a mid-level Auror might not pose much of a challenge, given the inherent gap in magical ability.

However, mere minutes ago, Voldemort had engaged in a fierce duel with Skyler. It could even be argued that Voldemort had been slightly outmatched and disadvantaged during their confrontation.

Now, Voldemort's heart was consumed with nothing but frustration. Tonight was supposed to be the grand occasion of his resurrection and triumphant return.

He had only sought to rise again quietly, perhaps eliminating a Potter at most. What had gone wrong? Why had his carefully laid plans unraveled like this?

Leaving Voldemort's despondency aside, let's return to Skyler.

"The only way you could discern its true nature is through those possibilities," Skyler paused, glancing once more at Morgan before continuing, "Regardless of which possibility it may be, it all traces back to the ancestor of the Thestral, the Night Corpse Dragon. Whatever you're holding resonates with my wand on a level deeper than the soul, reaching the most profound depths—it must be something from the same era and caliber as the Night Corpse Dragon."

"It stands to reason that the most probable explanation is that you're wielding the Elder Wand of the Peverell family—or the Death Wand. Through the resonance of the Thestral's tail feather core, you've discerned the anomaly of my wand..."

"But fortunately, I happen to know the whereabouts of this wand. It's not in your possession, so I can confidently dismiss this possibility," Skyler smiled faintly, a glint of self-assurance in his eyes. "I was still puzzling over how you could perceive the changes in my wand, but your mention of blood power just now reminded me—"

"The blood running in your veins—is it that of one of the five ancient dragons, the Dragon King of Hell?" Skyler continued, his tone precise. "To be more accurate, the inheritance of the Avalon School you've heard of stems from the earliest practitioners in ancient times—a lineage of wizards who wielded the power of dragons, correct?"

"Remarkable!" Morgan's expression turned appreciative, and she softly applauded. "You've hit the mark. The potency in my bloodline does indeed trace back to the Dragon King of Hell—"

"I can hardly believe you could glean so much from a simple sentence. I must concede, you truly are the most exceptional genius of our era."

"I'm truly relieved now. If it weren't for my meticulous planning if I hadn't gone to such lengths to teleport you here alone and provoke Voldemort into facing you first, compelling you to reveal your trump card abilities prematurely... Well, even with our sizable force here, I fear our confrontation with you today would have introduced many unpredictable variables..." Morgan smiled coldly toward Skyler as she finished her sentence.