Chapter 160 Tom: You pervert.
What kind of spell? Well, of course, it was Wand Glamour! For only one hundred Galleons, the Killing Curse could transform into a holy sword cleaving through hell at the moment of casting! Avada Kedavra?
No, it's Avada Redemption! For just one hundred Galleons, the Killing Curse can blast out an Archangel's Judgment Ray! Merlin's beard dropped.gif.
Dylan suppressed the abstract thought, sneered, and pointed his wand directly at the diary. Sacred and evil powers contended in the air, light flickering, aiming straight for the target.
"Ah!"
The Killing Curse hit the diary, which trembled wildly like prey struck by immense force. The symbols on the cover again faded and dimmed, the paper sizzling as if scorched by flames, emitting wisps of green smoke.
Tom's soul body also jolted violently, his expression instantly twisting. The ghostly white light pierced his body, his mouth opened to its limit, letting out a scream.
At the same time, a domain spread out, centered on Dylan. The energy of Avada Kedavra, infused with holy radiance, made Dylan appear like a god, while the energy furiously swept towards the diary.
The diary had barely held on under the Killing Curse and was now suddenly subjected to the impact of the Slaughtering Intent Burning the Sky domain's energy. The edges of the diary rapidly blackened and curled up.
"What? How can you use the Killing Curse like that?!"
Tom's soul body was severely damaged again, cracks spreading across its surface. He swayed precariously, his eyes filled with terror. He prided himself on wielding the Killing Curse as easily as his own arm, believing no one in the entire wizarding world could possess deeper mastery of it than him!
Yet now, this mysterious figure who had abruptly appeared before him could not only cast an eye-shaped spell that he couldn't comprehend but also wielded the Killing Curse with greater proficiency than he! This domain of death energy...
Though Tom was in excruciating pain at the moment, he became extremely interested in how Dylan managed to unleash such power from the Killing Curse.
"Heh heh, it's very simple, because death is held in my hands," Dylan waved his wand again: "Avada Kedavra!"
Another blinding white light shot out.
"Stop! How dare you..."
Bang!
"Ah—" The wailing could almost penetrate the magically warded wooden house. The diary was directly blasted several meters away, tumbling several times in the air before finally stopping.
Its cover was half-detached, and its pages were charred black. The energy within the domain surged again, tightly enveloping the diary. It sounded like frying pork chops, with a continuous sizzling.
Dylan's gaze was calm as he raised his wand for the third time.
"Boom!" A holy pillar of light shot out. The diary was on the verge of falling apart. Tom's soul body was so weak it had almost disappeared. Only then did Dylan stop.
While keeping Slaughtering Intent Burning the Sky attacking the diary, Dylan summoned the cockroaches and spiders scurrying in the breeding enclosure. The cute little creatures involuntarily flew into mid-air, coming to rest above the diary. Before they could react, their exoskeletons were crushed by a powerful squeezing force.
Pop!Pop!Pop!
At the same time, the skylight on the roof was suddenly flung open again, and several small wild animals from the jungle flew inside. Their life force was extracted by Dylan and then injected into the diary. The broken and charred cover of the book gradually healed, and the black on the pages faded, slowly becoming pristine white again. Tom's figure also solidified once more.
"You..." Riddle had no idea why this guy kept using the Killing Curse on him repeatedly. After he fell into extreme weakness, he would deliberately replenish his life force, allowing him to recover. But being hit by the spell over and over again, Tom felt his sanity slowly being stripped away with each scream.
Only when Dylan noticed that the number of wild creatures in the forest began to dwindle did he reluctantly stop.
In fact, it was only 444 Killing Curses. Dylan could have done it with four consecutive spells. However, he wasn't sure if a Horcrux, even though it couldn't be directly killed by the Killing Curse, might suffer irreparable damage if it sustained hundreds of Killing Curses at once without recovering life force.
Therefore, Dylan still felt it was safer to personally cast 222 Killing Curses on Tom and then use the power of the Slaughtering Intent Burning the Sky trait to complete the other half of the refinement task.
After more than a hundred Killing Curses, Tom was too weak to maintain his human form—he had already screamed himself hoarse. On the open diary, a line of text slowly appeared.
"You pervert..."
Dylan smiled. "Pervert? It seems your shallow understanding is not enough to comprehend the power death has bestowed upon me." He lightly tapped his wand. The diary trembled violently. However, in the next instant, no Avada holy light cannon, as Tom had expected, fired out.
Instead, Dylan threw him back into the corner. Dylan twirled his wand, sealing off that area, completely isolating Tom from any possibility of escape or peeking outside.
"The first wave of experiments will still be done with the Basilisk or Lockhart." Dylan brushed off imaginary dust from his robes. For the Horcrux part, he needed to acquire more knowledge before attempting to deal with the diary. —Dylan didn't want to give that cunning and treacherous Riddle any opportunity.
He walked out of the wooden house and approached the small warehouse behind it. This warehouse was simply a place Dylan used to store miscellaneous items. It was also magically constructed by Dylan himself.
However, the quality of this shed seemed quite mediocre. The wooden boards were somewhat cracked, and the doorknob had flecks of rust. —Clearly, its owner had put no effort into building this warehouse.
Creak— Dylan slowly pushed the door open with his wand, not using his hands. Immediately, the old, stale air of the warehouse rushed out. —The materials for this warehouse were actually salvaged by Dylan from discarded wood that Hagrid had thrown out. There was even a faint scent of the Forbidden Forest lingering.
The warehouse was unlit, with dim light inside, and a damp, decaying smell emanated from it. Dylan looked inside and saw a huddled figure in the corner.
It was Gilderoy Lockhart. At this moment, Lockhart was completely different from the charming, fake-smiling best-selling author Dylan remembered.
After being confined for just one night, Lockhart was already disheveled, his eyes hollow. He was slumped on the ground, his legs splayed out, as if he had just been ravaged.
Dylan looked at him disdainfully. "Perhaps I should have just captured him directly before his own spell backfired on him."
However, Dylan thought again. Anyway, this guy knew nothing but the Memory Charm. Even if he remained conscious, he would be useless. It might be better for him to stay in this dazed state.
He checked the time. Dylan had been about to pull Lockhart out but paused.
"It's time to eat."
The outside world must be buzzing with the news of Dumbledore's return by now. It wouldn't be good for Dylan to be absent for too long; he still needed to show his face regularly.
If someone came looking for him and couldn't find him, and then set their sights on his trunk, that would be truly troublesome.
"Eat."
Dylan conjured a few slices of bread with his wand and tossed them in front of Lockhart. But Lockhart didn't react. Dylan raised an eyebrow. Using Legilimency, he could sense that Lockhart wasn't pretending to be idiotic; he seemed to have truly become idiotic.
"Strange, even if he suffered from the Memory Charm backlash, he should still respond like a normal person." Frowning slightly, Dylan directly used Soul-Stealing Charm to control Lockhart's body.
First, Dylan searched through his memories again but indeed found nothing unusual. It seemed Lockhart had truly just spent the entire night in this small warehouse, progressing from walking around to becoming completely dazed and eventually unable to move at all.
Remembering that Lockhart was eventually confined to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries for treatment, Dylan controlled his body and slowly ate the bread bite by bite.
"It's good that he's a dunderhead; it prevents him from soiling himself out of fear when I'm experimenting," Dylan pouted. He casually cast a Scourgify to clean Lockhart. Then, Dylan transformed a small table in the warehouse into a bed.
Time had been too short yesterday, and he hadn't had the leisure to consider Lockhart's living conditions. Today, he could at least make it a bit more comfortable. After conjuring the bed, Dylan then controlled Lockhart to lie on it.
Just as he was about to withdraw his control, Dylan suddenly frowned again. "Wait, Lockhart hasn't relieved himself yet, has he?" He glanced around the warehouse but saw no filth.
He also didn't smell anything. After a moment of contemplation, Dylan used the Imperius Curse to give Lockhart a command: Relieve yourself when necessary, but go outside to do it. After all, it was just the forest outside; he could find any tree root to take care of business. It would even serve as fertilizer.
Dylan left the cramped warehouse. He then gave instructions to Coal and the others: do not let creatures like goblins or Cornish pixies harm his experimental subjects. Finally, he tossed two chunks of meat to the Basilisk and exited the trunk space.
The moment he emerged, Dylan saw Harry and Ron. Dylan raised an eyebrow: "Ron, you're back so soon?"
Ron nodded: "Ginny's fine now, and I wasn't hurt, so I didn't stay in the infirmary."
Neville added: "Madam Pomfrey thought he was too much trouble, always chattering away, so she kicked him out."
"Hey!" Ron glared.
Dylan looked at Harry: "Are all the problems resolved?"
Harry pursed his lips: "Not really. Malfoy claimed that Professor Dumbledore didn't catch the real culprit of the incident and refused to admit that Voldemort organized so many terrorist attacks."
"—He blamed everything on that person named Kael'thas."
"Because of that, even when Professor Dumbledore questioned him about spreading things from Voldemort's school days, Malfoy brushed him off by saying the professor was negligent in his supervision."
Dylan blinked: "So what was the outcome?"
"No real outcome. The matter seemed to have been dropped. Malfoy threatened Professor Dumbledore a lot, but he couldn't take away the Headmaster's position."
Ron mumbled softly: "Just hearing your description, I feel that Malfoy is as annoying as his son!"
Dylan shrugged: "That's why they say like father, like son."
Harry paused slightly, then suddenly grinned: "Dylan, were you intentionally provoking that Malfoy?"
Dylan looked at him: "Why do you say that?"
Harry chuckled: "After you left, no matter how much Lucius questioned the professor, he was rebuffed, and Senior Sister Vera also helped to criticize Lucius—he was half-dead with rage."
"Later, I casually handed him a notebook and said it was Ginny's other diary. He didn't even look at it and just threw it to Dobby..."
Dylan suddenly remembered that Dobby had originally gained his freedom through Harry using the destroyed diary. But this time, he hadn't left the diary. It was fortunate that Harry was quick-witted, otherwise, Dobby might not have regained his freedom.
"I completely forgot about that... I even told him he could come to me after he was free." Dylan felt a little embarrassed.
He coughed lightly and said to Harry: "So you hid a sock in that notebook? And Dobby became free?"
Harry's eyes lit up: "I knew you were intentionally provoking Lucius, Dylan! Did you foresee this all along?"
Dylan: ( )...
"Haha, yes, that's right. That's what I foresaw." —He had simply wanted to insult Lucius at that moment. And perhaps trigger an achievement for insulting someone in front of Dumbledore. In fact, he did unlock such an achievement, but the reward was only some numerical values.
"Alright, is it time for dinner now?" Dylan asked.
Neville nodded: "Yes, we were just about to go to the Great Hall for dinner."
"Then let's go?" Dylan started walking towards the door. Harry, Neville, and the others followed. Seamus wasn't in the dorm; he was probably out with Dean. The group walked to the Great Hall. They even met Hermione, who was also coming for dinner.
"Hey! Hermione, how are you feeling now?" Ron excitedly walked up to her.
Hermione, however, immediately looked at Dylan: "I feel great, Dylan. The potion you brewed tastes even better than Professor Snape's."
"Thank you again for saving me from having to drink Professor Snape's restorative potion."
"—The Hufflepuff student who was petrified like me, I met him this morning, and he threw up again."
Dylan immediately waved his hand: "Don't say that; it wouldn't be good if Professor Snape heard it."
"Actually, the taste of potions is generally about the same. I just habitually add a bit of honey and a small amount of milk."
"—They don't affect the properties of the potion in most cases; instead, they make the potion taste smoother and richer."
As Dylan finished speaking, Neville suddenly tugged lightly at his sleeve. Before Dylan could react, a cold, hard voice, squeezed out from between teeth, sounded behind him.
"No wonder your potions always have the cloying sweetness of cheap sweets. What, are you planning to take off your wizard robes and become a candy vendor at an ice cream parlor in Diagon Alley?"
Dylan was startled by Professor Snape's sudden voice. His expression froze, and he slightly turned his head to see the corner of a black robe fluttering in mid-air.
"Ah, haha~ Professor, are you also here for dinner?" Dylan turned around and saw Professor Snape with a cold face, his lips tightly pressed into a thin line, almost colorless, staring indifferently at Dylan.
Harry, Hermione, and the others beside Dylan immediately exchanged glances when they saw Professor Snape. Ron gently nudged Harry with his elbow. The few of them instantly understood each other and reached a silent agreement.
"I think there's pumpkin pasties today; let's go check it out," Ron slowly moved away from Dylan. Harry and Neville followed suit. Even Hermione left Dylan behind. —She had just said that Dylan's potion was better than Professor Snape's.
"When did you add honey to that potion? Why didn't I see it?"
Dylan watched the unloyal group walk away, squeezed his fists, and gave an awkward chuckle. "Well, Professor, I mixed the honey directly into the mandrake paste. You know, mandrake's scent is very strong, so you didn't smell the sweetness—and I didn't add much."
After crushing mandrake roots, a foul smell like a mixture of garlic and rotting flesh would become even stronger. In such a nauseating smell, he only added a little honey and milk. Even if Professor Snape's nose was... cough, quite sensitive, he wouldn't have smelled that hint of sweetness.
"Oh." Professor Snape narrowed his eyes, cast a sidelong glance at Dylan, and let out a cold snort from his nose. Then, with a dramatic swirl of his black robe, he strode towards the Great Hall.
"What are you standing around for? Waiting for me to invite you in for dinner?" Dylan wiped away non-existent cold sweat from his forehead and quickly followed.
.....
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