Helbo smiled with a hint of mockery in his voice, "Impossible? Ha, with me, nothing is impossible. Even Merlin is a mere mortal in front of me!"
He may indeed be extremely arrogant and conceited, but he certainly has the capital to be arrogant. This terrifying power is his confidence to disdain Merlin.
Riddle's expression kept changing.
"I have traversed countless ages, witnessing endless disasters and destruction. From these disasters, I have absorbed infinite power. Now, I stand at the pinnacle of the Magic World, just one step away from breaking that barrier to become a true god, which is a foreseeable future."
"Tom Riddle, your talent and wisdom show me a potentially possible ally. Join me, become my subordinate, and you will gain rewards far beyond your imagination."
Helbo extended his withered arm to Riddle.
Riddle hesitated.
His heart was clearly in turmoil.
Suddenly.
"What if I refuse?"
Riddle asked in a low voice, with a hint of probing in his tone.
Helbo's smile turned eerie and cold.
"Refuse? Then you will be forever trapped in this era, becoming dust in history. While I will continue my journey, seeking the next person willing to follow me."
He waved his hand gently.
"And that is your possible outcome."
As the words fell, in Riddle's perception, the entire space suddenly twisted into a kaleidoscope. Countless mirrors reflected his outcomes on different timelines.
Without exception.
They all ended in a burial at sea.
"Fate is the sharpest dagger."
Helbo's voice came from all dimensions simultaneously.
"And I aim to pluck out its venomous fangs for you."
He was showing Riddle various possible futures, including one where Ian called out the original plot of the waterwork, and another where it remained in Pompeii erased by the Gods.
"Stop!"
Riddle let out a scream, somewhat unable to bear it.
Fear, unprecedented, danced in his pupils.
"What do you want me to do?"
After Helbo withdrew his "Divine Power," Riddle lay on the ground gasping heavily. He felt a pair of cold, withered arms lifting him from the floor.
"I want you to raise the Divine Throne for me, and I will not enjoy this glory alone." Once again, he extended an olive branch to Riddle, who now seemed to have made a certain decision.
"It seems I truly have no other choice."
Riddle responded.
A pale hand clasped a withered hand.
"Welcome onboard, Riddle." Helbo's voice resonated beside Riddle's ear, with a hint of eerie laughter, "From today, we will pursue together that possibility surpassing all else."
His words sent a tremor through Riddle's heart.
Not with excitement.
But with some indescribable feeling.
"I hope so."
Riddle looked at the extraordinary being in front of him.
"That goes without saying."
Helbo continued to smile.
His laughter in the dim Divine Hall appeared especially sinister.
...
Time flew by swiftly, as dusk descended, the night shrouded the ancient city of Pompeii like an enormous black satin, softly yet imperiously draping over it. Moonlight poured down like water, gently sprinkling on the mottled stone pavements, adorning the city, which had slept for over two millennia, with a silvery veil.
It was so beautiful and serene.
No one could perceive the pre-apocalyptic tranquility.
As the night deepened, mist began to pervade the ancient city, the street-side oil lamps cast a faint glow, flickering uncertainly within the mist, the exquisite patterns carved on stone walls faintly revealed under the moonlight.
In the Underground Palace of the ancient Divine Hall.
The "Priestess" was now yawning out of boredom.
"What exactly are you doing?"
She had already brought Ian more than ten basins of hot water, while Ian kept repeating the same thing—cutting pieces of the corpse of Patient Zero and muttering to himself.
"Where did it come from... I need the truth... Where did it come from..." Each time after chanting the complex spells, the Little Wizard's constant chattering had made the "Priestess's" ears grow callused.
"Aren't you thinking of prophesying?"
The "Priestess," unfamiliar with the spell system of later generations, seemed somewhat belatedly realized after a dozen hours, what Ian intended to do.
However.
To her somewhat puzzled inquiry.
Ian, frowning deeply, did not provide an answer.
"There's nothing wrong with my operation... Why can't I brush out the skill?" He mumbled something even the Goddess couldn't understand, watching his personal panel with incomprehension.
Despite some reluctance, even with the Little Wizard's unprecedented diligent practice, there wasn't even the shadow of Magic Ability appearing on the personal panel.
Or you could say, not even a trace of experience points appeared. This was absolutely unexpected for Ian. Admittedly, he knew he had no talent in this particular subject.
But the current situation couldn't be explained by a mere lack of talent.
"Am I actually an insulator for Divination?" Ian, somewhat incredulous, covered his face, wishing to wash it with hot water but disliking the black human tissues floating inside as they were not skincare-friendly.
"You really are trying to find the truth through prophecy?!" Listening to the Little Wizard's wretched moaning, the "Priestess" was utterly surprised, eyes widened in disbelief.
"If you could just tell me the answer directly, I wouldn't have to waste time here." Ian also rolled his eyes, not knowing how many times he tried to extract information from the Goddess.
This time.
The Goddess didn't evade answering.
Perhaps she was truly shocked by Ian's "prophecy" practice.
"Under normal circumstances, I could certainly follow the timeline to find the answer, but not now." Still maintaining the appearance of the "Priestess," the Goddess spoke to Ian with helplessness.
The Little Wizard frowned.
"Why, because a disaster is impending?"
He didn't hide that he was aware of Pompeii's nearing end.
"Of course not, I can't explain the priority of the impact on time and the future to your muddled head." The "Priestess" sighed softly, speaking in a gentle voice.
"You just need to understand that destiny will always stand by your side." Her words contained ambiguous information, making the Little Wizard feel a profound sense hidden within.
"Elaborate, don't play the Riddler."
Ian's eyes flickered slightly.
He just wanted to ask.
But the "Priestess" suddenly looked towards the direction of the stairs.
"You see, I couldn't even perceive this change in advance."
The sigh from the Mysterious Goddess resonated, and then, footsteps echoed from the staircase. Priest Laine timely brought a Black-robed Man into this underground room.
Priest Laine first saluted the Goddess, then saluted Ian, only then did he speak, "This person says he knows you and possesses something you want."
Priest Laine's words made Ian pause for a moment.
"I can't imagine anyone owing something I want." The Little Wizard responded directly, his gaze peculiarly eyeing the figure shrouded head-to-toe in a black robe.
Priest Laine also looked towards the Black-robed Man with curiosity.
The Black-robed Man wasn't nervous.
"Didn't you come here just to find me?"
As seen.
The Black-robed Man slowly removed his hood, revealing that pale and handsome face.
"Dimwit!?"
Ian was stunned upon seeing this face — yes, Tom Riddle, the young Black Demon King, slowly spoke in a low tone under Ian's slightly astonished gaze.
"No! This is my plea for help!" Riddle rejected Ian's terminology, pressing his fingers against the corners of his eyes, his tone grave and laced with panic.
"I will go back with you, surrender to Dumbledore, surrender to the Ministry of Magic, and even spending a lifetime imprisoned in Azkaban would be acceptable." Riddle fiercely pressed against his eyeball.
Unlike the previous encounter in the Dark Divine Hall, Riddle's voice was tinged with fear, with a sense of fright. Clearly, Riddle was not oblivious to the manipulation Helbo had done to him.
Precisely because of this.
He made a choice no one could have predicted.
"But... even for the child of the Malfoy family, you must save me!" Riddle's eyes reflected a scene completely different from the surrounding environment.
That was the mark of Helbo.
And it was also Ian's pursuit... the Curse.