Grindelwald's speeches always sound sophisticated, and he's truly willing to share the benefits. In comparison, the difference with the second-generation Black Demon King currently in front of me is glaringly obvious.
He gives no benefits.
All he talks about are dreams, power, and future status.
Smart people can tell it's all vanity. Honestly, with such outdated PUA tricks, I doubt he could even fool the two roommates in his dorm.
The so-called loyalty of his men depends solely on threats of death. Otherwise, how can one remain steadfast even when imprisoned, while the other has all the Death Eaters scatter like birds and beasts?
"Unfortunately, you've made the wrong choice." Having been reprimanded, Voldemort's expression suddenly turned angry, though his tone remained calm and cold.
The flesh on this Black Demon King's face began to wither and melt. Who knows what kind of Dark Arts he's using, causing the magic power output from his wand to increase exponentially.
Watching as his Killing Curse surged toward him, Ian's face showed little concern.
"You made the wrong choice, not me. It seems you haven't realized that ever since you set foot in Hogwarts, your fate was already sealed."
He just gave a slight shake of the hand holding the magic wand, and in the next moment, the Killing Curse clashing with Voldemort's magic spell in mid-air suddenly branched out into more than ten paths, as if receiving some command.
They spread out wildly in the air like they were alive or equipped with navigation, splitting into over ten tiny dark green beams that sped towards Voldemort from different angles.
"Damn it! This trick again!"
This sudden change caught Voldemort off guard. He had seen Ian's bizarre magic in the Hogwarts tunnel before, and now he didn't expect Ian to have reached a new level of mystery.
"You can't possibly have such powerful soul and control!"
Faced with the tiny dark green beams, Voldemort didn't dare to be careless. Even a mosquito-sized one is a Killing Curse that spells death upon contact; not even the Black Demon King can escape such rule-like power.
The magical attack came flying toward him.
Voldemort immediately slammed his wand fiercely, forcibly severing his stalemate with Ian, and disappeared from his original location just before several tiny Killing Curses and a thick Killing Curse struck.
The treachery of magic.
Unfolded in Voldemort's hands.
He silently appeared behind Ian, raising his hand to sneak attack, only to find rapid blue flames suddenly flare from the ground, ferociously pouncing towards him.
The scorching, deadly magic ravaged and swept, forcing Voldemort to vanish from his spot again. This time, however, his form didn't appear for several seconds.
Ian looked around.
He didn't have Grindelwald's observational prowess and couldn't sense Voldemort's presence; the only certainty was that Voldemort was still in this room.
"Shadowless Storm!"
Ian couldn't find Voldemort, but he knew how to counteract—with Ian's spell reaching an unprecedented intensity, the whole underground room seemed torn apart by an invisible force.
His magic was no longer simple beams or explosions but turned into countless invisible blades, like blades in a windstorm, occupying the entire room, silent yet extremely sharp.
These blades roamed the air, slicing through anything that obstructed them. The room's stone pillars, tables, chairs, even solid stone walls became fragmented under the blades' cutting.
No space was spared.
The air was filled with acrid smoke and magical energy waves. As the saying goes, when wealth affords fire coverage, Ian fully exhibited what it means for overwhelming magic power to not worry about threats from any direction.
"You damned Magic Creature! A product of Biological Alchemy!" Voldemort was forced to reveal himself from hiding, surrounded by an invisible shield deflecting the blades.
Of course.
Because Ian's magic was released too rapidly, Voldemort's face and body bore varying degrees of wounds, which might be why he was so furious.
"So you think I'm a product of Biological Alchemy?" Ian realized what Voldemort meant to say before, sneering as he raised his wand again.
Voldemort's expression suddenly tensed; he chose to preemptively curse Ian.
"Flesh Stripping!"
It was an extremely malicious dark magic.
The magic power within his body grew increasingly silent, making Voldemort wary of exchanging blows with Ian again. He realized that Ian had cast something onto his body more troublesome than expected. An invisible force had penetrated him, suppressing his magic power with an increasingly aggressive momentum.
"All Curses End!"
Ian flicked his wand.
Voldemort's magic dissipated into the air—he learned a modified version by Dumbledore, capable of breaking even the magic involving time and destiny touched by Slytherin.
Simple Dark Arts were naturally trivial.
"Become my nourishment again!"
With a powerful swing of his wand, the Fiery Fire on the ground instantly transformed, representing the deep crimson of the Flame Expedition, the flames capable of burning souls dangerously flickering.
Having delved deeply into soul research, Voldemort became instantly alert.
"Damn it! Where did you learn these things?" Voldemort was aghast; he wanted to continue cursing but sensed the situation within him becoming increasingly worrying.