The dark green light illuminated the entire room.
Magic symbolizing death coursed fiercely.
Two powerful forces of magic intertwined and tore through the air, forming a brief, dazzling vortex of energy that shredded the surrounding air, emitting sharp howls. At this moment, the lighting in the underground room became unusually distorted, as if countless souls that had died under the Killing Curse were wailing.
Facing Voldemort, who had inexplicably resurrected and regained his magic power nurtured by the Magic Stone, his strength far exceeding other wizards even if not restored to his peak, Ian chose to confront his sharp edge, wielding the equally vast magic within him to engage in a duel and challenge with Voldemort.
The Little Wizard knew that the scales of victory would only tilt in his favor.
Within fate, there lay many possibilities, but not a single one suggested he would lose to Voldemort—this was a confidence a wizard should possess when gripping a magic wand.
Indeed.
To be safe, Ian had beforehand applied a debuff to Voldemort using Voldemort's relatives, allowing the "Wizard Gene" within him to be suppressed, fading into silence under the effect of potion.
"To be honest, I've long wanted to test it… the so-called Black Demon King, Voldemort, just how much gold is there under his renowned name." Ian's voice carried a shade of excitement.
The scene looked extremely perilous, yet did not stir the slightest timidity in him.
"You little thing, do you not know that no wizard in this world can directly call my name?" Voldemort's cold voice amplified the magic power output to his wand.
Despite being affected by Ian's potion, the level of activity of his inner magic was gradually decreasing, but having endured countless battles, he quickly calmed his mind and had a fierce gleam in his eyes.
The confidence honed over the years made Voldemort believe that apart from Dumbledore having the faintest chance to stop him, all other wizards would ultimately die under his magic.
The history of past years was proof. As long as he killed this peculiarly powerful Little Wizard, he would have ample time to address the issues caused by certain potion effects.
"I will make a tombstone for you and inscribe your dying words upon it." Ian stared intently at the not-so-distant figure that made countless wizards tremble in fear.
He tightly gripped his magic wand, which seemed as an extension of himself, resonating with his will, the magic power he infused into the wand unleashing its might with utmost efficiency.
"A sharp-tongued fellow, you can't possibly be a true wizard; at your age, no wizard could possess such powerful magic."
"Not I, nor Dumbledore could, and I bet neither could ancient Merlin… in this situation, have you never questioned why you, out of all, are so exceptional?"
Voldemort exaggeratedly moved his wand, feeling the pressure from across, and began attempting to breach the Little Wizard's psychological defenses with the knowledge of Psychology.
"In the Wizarding World, no anomaly is mere coincidence, and no blessing comes without a price. I imagine you have never pondered what kind of cost lurks beneath your extraordinary talent."
It has to be said.
Voldemort's brain did become somewhat more efficient post-resurrection.
Unfortunately.
Ian walked step by step, remembering every footprint he left, there were no blessings bestowed; all he relied upon was his effort and a bit of external aid.
"I detest people like you who speak nonsense! When you fail you claim others fail too! For so many years have you never wondered why Dumbledore keeps hammering you?"
"Reflect on it! Is it because you don't work as hard as I do?" Ian does not believe Voldemort could answer his intrigue regarding the system, and he remains unfazed by Voldemort's psychological ploy.
"Submit to me; I really can tell you the reason. Despite you repeatedly wrecking my actions, I appreciate talent, and even though I deeply loathe you, I'm willing to give you another chance…" Voldemort tried to continue enticing Ian, realizing the decline in his magic power exceeded expectations.
Green light and green light intertwined in midair to form a complex pattern, as though two forces contending for dominion over this space, and his territory was steadily being eroded.
"I can share with you the knowledge Dumbledore is unwilling to share, the secrets he hides for his great power, even allowing you to learn about the secret of eternal life."
"I am just such a generous person; align with me, and I can disregard all that you had done before." Voldemort increased his allure towards Ian.
Never mind if he was bluffing Ian, at least the tone sounded rather sincere. But if it weren't for the murderous intent in the magic clashing against Ian's… Alright, Ian still wouldn't believe.
"I somewhat overestimated your mind." Faced with Voldemort's recruitment, Ian's heart remains absolutely unstirred; weren't all of Dumbledore's hidden books accessible to him anytime he wants?
As for eternal life… those frail Soul Artifacts dare call themselves the eternal life?
"I suggest you listen how the big villain sixty years ago swayed others, instead of just painting pies in the sky." Ian's tone carried unabashed disdain.
Indeed.