Chương 99: 99- The Disappearance of the Killing Curse
"Space magic is truly amazing, isn't it?"
Gryffindor, with his red hair and beard, sincerely marveled at the convenience of space magic as the four of them suddenly appeared in a desolate wilderness.
What would take ordinary people tens of days to walk, they had accomplished in a single morning.
"To ordinary people, we must seem no different from the so-called gods," Hufflepuff remarked with a smile.
"Gods are nothing special either; one sword strike can kill them," Gryffindor scoffed at the notion of "gods," as he always did.
Unlike Godric and Helga's leisurely attitudes, Slytherin and Ravenclaw were engrossed in an academic discussion.
"But using this spell is very uncomfortable; I nearly suffocated midway," Slytherin said. Although he liked snakes more than the others, he did not enjoy crawling through tubes like one.
"That's an inherent issue."
"What if we created a magical item large enough to accommodate several people, and then had someone carry this magical item while using space magic? Would the people inside feel any pressure?"
"Interesting thought." Ravenclaw fell into contemplation.
She found Salazar's idea quite reasonable.
"Shall we try it?"
Slytherin and Ravenclaw were both action-oriented, and the next day, they brought a crystal ball to Gryffindor.
Looking at the seemingly ordinary crystal ball in front of him, Gryffindor frowned. "Can this thing really hold a person?"
Slytherin beamed brightly. "Precisely because your body is strong enough, we dare to let you try."
Gryffindor: "..."
Good news: the crystal ball could indeed hold a person.
Bad news: it held dead people—living people who entered quickly turned into dead ones.
"At least it requires fifty percent of Godric's physical strength to survive in there for a short time."
"How about trying this improved version?"
Seeing the two engrossed in recording experimental data without any personal emotions, Gryffindor felt a bit breathless.
But the experiment had to continue.
After several modifications, Ravenclaw finally transformed the internal space of the crystal ball to be able to sustain life, even growing a small forest inside. After setting up the interior, Ravenclaw used it to verify Slytherin's hypothesis—and indeed, staying inside did not create a feeling of pressure.
"What a marvelous creation," Slytherin couldn't help but marvel at Ravenclaw's magical prowess as he looked at the lush vegetation inside the crystal ball.
"If you're interested, I can sell it to you."
"How much?" Slytherin asked without hesitation. He knew the crystal ball's value was almost beyond monetary measurement.
"I don't take money." Rowena looked at Salazar. Seeing the puzzled expression in his eyes, she smiled slightly. "Let's trade for knowledge—knowledge is priceless, just like this crystal ball. Priceless things should be exchanged for other priceless things."
...
Now the crystal ball had shattered, turning into worthless shards, and the room where Daphne and the others were was instantly filled with dense jungle.
Standing on a tree branch, Daphne felt an ominous premonition. It seemed that the crystal ball was extraordinary.
As far as she knew, the Greengrass family vault didn't have alchemical items of this caliber; they only had some crude gold Galleons.
Containers with Undetectable Extension Charms were common, ranging from handbags to tents, creating much larger spaces inside than their outer appearances suggested. However, the space inside this crystal ball was ridiculously large, requiring extremely advanced spatial magic skills.
'Luckily, the crystal ball was ownerless. Otherwise, I couldn't afford to pay for it even if I sold myself,' Daphne thought.
At that moment, she noticed the skeletal "horse" had come to the tree she was in, seemingly calling to her. She floated down gently and landed beside it, then realized it resembled the legendary nightmare horse found in legends.
"A-Are you a nightmare horse from those stories?" Daphne tentatively called its name.
The nightmare raised its head in agreement.
"Will you help me defeat that monster?"
The nightmare eagerly pawed the ground. Going against Voldemort was something it had longed for; no persuasion was needed.
Daphne was overjoyed. With the nightmare by her side, she no longer had to face the monster alone—as for Harry, Daphne figured that if he survived until the end of the battle, it would be a victory.
Boom!
Voldemort knocked down several trees around him, clearing out a patch of ground.
The surrounding forest and the clearing in the middle reminded him of some unpleasant memories, but he quickly smirked: he was not Quirrell, that useless fool, who couldn't even handle a little girl.
"Come out," his deep voice echoed in the room, "it's time to end this tiresome game."
Soon, Voldemort's words were answered—a nightmare and Daphne charged out from the woods together, launching their attack.
The nightmare darted swiftly around the clearing, occasionally seizing the opportunity to charge at Voldemort with its horn, while Daphne stood at the edge of the forest, continually launching long-range attacks to harass Voldemort, preventing him from focusing solely on the nightmare.
For a moment, the fight was evenly matched.
The nightmare took on most of the offensive role and bore the brunt of Voldemort's attacks. More importantly, the magical flames it carried inflicted significant damage on Voldemort, making him hesitant and restricted in his movements.
Without the nightmare, there was no way Daphne could hold her own against Voldemort.
Both sides were locked in a fierce battle, unaware that the ground beneath them was becoming somewhat soft.
Voldemort grew increasingly agitated: he couldn't believe he was being held off by a first-year witch and a necro horse. Even though he was in a weakened state, relying on Quirrell's body, this was an utter humiliation.
Anger surged through Voldemort, making his attacks more ruthless.
With a loud bang, his curse hit the nightmare, blasting it away. Seeing the situation turn dire, Daphne prepared to retreat into the forest for cover, but a nearby hanging branch suddenly transformed into a python, wrapping around her and immobilizing her.
"Avada Kedavra!"
Voldemort's face twisted into a sinister smile as he cast the Killing Curse at her.
In that moment, time seemed to slow down for Daphne. She watched the deadly green curse fly towards her, and a single thought occupied her mind: if she got hit by that curse, she would probably die.
'Rhys mentioned that wizards go to an in-between place after death—what would that be like?'
Daphne closed her eyes, but death didn't come.
The Killing Curse vanished abruptly just an inch from her nose, evaporating like morning dew in the sunlight.
————
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Chương 100: 100- I Was Also Called "God"
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Daphne waited for a long time, but death did not come.
hmm..?
Her long eyelashes trembled, and then she opened her eyes to find a tall wizard in a green robe and a wizard's hat standing in front of her.
Daphne noticed that the cuffs of the wizard's robe were embroidered with silver trim.
As for the killing curse, it had vanished without a trace.
Standing in the middle of the clearing, Voldemort's facial features twisted in horror—he couldn't comprehend what had just happened.
How could someone erase his Killing Curse?!
Was it space magic?
Some kind of illusion?
Or had he used a spell to interfere with his senses?
His brain worked furiously, almost smoking from the effort. At that moment, the mysterious wizard spoke.
"I've always had a small disagreement with my friends. They believe I've been researching dark magic, while I think that magic itself is neither good nor evil; it's the user who makes the difference."
His voice was pleasant, mature, and steady yet retaining a youthful warmth. Daphne even sensed an inexplicable familiarity in it.
The wizard in the green robe was, of course, Rhys!
He had caught up with them while Daphne was brewing the fire-resistant potion and had been following closely behind. Finally, when Daphne was in mortal danger, he revealed himself.
He felt it was time to put an end to this trial.
"Oh?" Voldemort lowered the tip of his wand towards the ground and squinted.
Although there was still a hint of moral decay in this person's words, it was intriguing enough.
Just the first part of the sentence confirmed for Voldemort that this man was indeed a dark wizard, and a highly skilled one at that.
"However..." Rhys suddenly changed his tone, contradicting himself. "I now think they were right. There truly is magic that reeks of evil from start to finish, enough to corrode the soul."
Voldemort snorted coldly. "I thought you might say something worthwhile, but you're just like those foolish people—a bird of a feather. You haven't even seen the Killing Curse, have you?"
Rhys nodded.
Voldemort burst into wild laughter.
Although he didn't understand what trick the man before him had used to block his Killing Curse, it didn't stop him from mocking someone who had never seen it before.
Rhys suddenly waved his hand, and Voldemort's expression changed.
Just moments ago, while laughing, Voldemort had launched an attack on Rhys. According to his plan, several snakes would suddenly emerge from the ground, binding his opponent's ankles to restrict his movement. Then, a golem made of dirt would appear behind him to deliver a fatal blow—if the Killing Curse couldn't get him, how about pure physical force?
But his spell dissipated as it neared Rhys.
Rhys sighed.
"It seems you really don't understand this aspect of knowledge. No matter, let me demonstrate." As soon as Rhys finished speaking, the entire room's floor began to churn, transforming into a swamp.
Initially, Voldemort remained unperturbed by the changes beneath him.
Although the scene was dramatic, it was merely intimidating in appearance.
All he needed to do was fly up—!!
Then, his pupils contracted sharply in shock. He realized that the swamp beneath him was like a powerful adhesive, firmly anchoring his feet to the ground.
In other words, he was now a sitting duck for that man!
Instinctively, he raised his wand, firing spells at Rhys like a machine gun.
Voldemort decided to use offense as a defense, trying to turn his unfavorable situation around.
Rhys was unfazed by these spells. He waved his hand, causing some spells to dissipate mid-air while others were encased in clumps of mud that had suddenly risen and fell back to the ground, dissolving into the swamp.
While Voldemort resisted, the room's scene continued to change.
First, the soil turned into a swamp, then the grass and shrubs, and now even the trees were being gradually enveloped by the mud, becoming part of the swamp.
The Nightmare's movements weren't restricted. It quickly ran to Daphne's side, let her climb onto its back, and then retreated to a safe distance.
The central battlefield now belonged to Rhys and Voldemort, not to small fry like Daphne and the Nightmare.
"Tut. Tut. Your generation seems to never consider the relationship between spells and magical power. Your spellcasting is excellent, but your understanding of magical power is superficial. In this room, wizards like you are no different from Muggles in front of me."
"Arrogant!" Voldemort was furious that the other dared to compare him to a Muggle. But after a few curses, his expression suddenly changed.
"Do you feel it? Your magical power is running out—are you surprised that the seemingly endless magic you've had since becoming a wizard can actually be exhausted? Don't worry, if you can't figure it out, you have plenty of time to think." Rhys smiled and snapped his fingers.
"Impossible!"
"Impossible?!"
Voldemort screamed hysterically. He couldn't comprehend what was happening: the vanishing Killing Curse, the bizarre swamp beneath his feet, or the sudden disappearance of his magical power. It all shattered his understanding of magic, creating a vast chasm with his past experiences.
Rhys stood quietly, listening to Voldemort's raving—Voldemort had gone mad. He wasn't even trying to attack with magic anymore.
Perhaps due to his extreme agitation, a fine layer of sweat appeared on Voldemort's bald head. The droplets grew rapidly, from the thickness of a hair to the size of rice grains, and finally to the size of soybeans, falling to the ground.
The body that Voldemort occupied, Quirrell's, was like a water bottle punctured with holes, rapidly leaking water. Voldemort quickly noticed something was wrong and tried to use magic to stop the loss of moisture, but it was futile.
When the sweat was gone, it was followed by blood. Voldemort couldn't even speak anymore, only letting out incomprehensible howls.
"Why impossible? After all, long, long ago, those ignorant Muggles also called me a [God]." Rhys tilted his head, casually extracting the last drop of moisture from Quirrell's body.
Quirrell turned into a complete mummy, drier than even those found in the Egyptian desert.
Boom!
After realizing that the person in front of him was beyond human power, Voldemort acted decisively and detonated all the magic power in Quirrell's body, causing an astonishingly powerful explosion. He then restored himself to the state of a residual soul and desperately escaped to the outside world.
"As long as I can escape, as long as I can escape--" Now he only wants to return to the dense forests of Albania and linger there.
However, even this humble wish is difficult to achieve.
————
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