The "Priestess" shook her head upon hearing these words.
Her tone was laden with deep meaning.
"What do you mean?"
The Little Wizard squinted his eyes.
"The Angel, he needs someone who, like him, should not exist, to become his angel, to raise the Divine Throne for him, so that he can ignite the Divine Fire and achieve the accomplishment that should have been thwarted at a certain time."
The "Priestess" turned to look at Riddle, who was leaning against the wall and throwing up.
"Helbo wasn't really deceiving you; he indeed intends to share his glory with you, but it's as his angel, as 'a part' of himself, to share this glory with him."
"Look, that's a common tactic among many extremely evil entities. The sincerity they exhibit isn't false, but the victim is entirely unaware that what they see isn't the whole truth."
"In the mouths of these people, words of truth can always be used as a weapon." Her unhurried words sent shivers through Riddle, giving him goosebumps.
The Little Wizard, on the other hand, awkwardly chuckled.
He felt that this Goddess was biased.
Yet he didn't know how to refute, so he was rarely thrown into silence.
"Sorry, I've been meaning to ask since earlier, who exactly are you... such a technique, such power, such knowledge, your name must be in history."
Riddle shook his head that had been rolling on the ground for hundreds of rounds, feeling fear upon remembering his previous experience, and his gaze towards the Priestess was extremely hostile and angry.
It was uncertain if Riddle was intending to remember this grudge and repay it later.
Regarding this.
The "Priestess" was indifferent.
Ian found a good excuse to change the topic.
"She is one of the active divinities of this era. Haven't you seen Priest Laine kneeling there for half an hour?" The Little Wizard pointed to Priest Laine, who had completely lost a sense of presence.
Priest Laine then made some noise to show he wasn't dead. However, Riddle didn't look at him; Riddle was still somewhat dizzy at this moment.
"Oh, so that's it, just a god... Hmm, no wonder." At first, Riddle wanted to express disdain, but his dizzy head finally reacted.
His expression stiffened as he changed his words.
Afterward.
He pulled out an expression even uglier than crying to look at the Little Wizard.
"When can we go back? Or could you take me back first? I somewhat long for Azkaban, truly, Professor Dumbledore will surely give me the punishment I deserve."
To be honest.
Perhaps the experiences after coming to this era not only went beyond the expectations of Ian, this Little Wizard, but even Tom Riddle, a sixteen-year-old future Voldemort, was caught off guard.
He had never been as sincere as now.
Compared to this era.
Hogwarts, Dumbledore, even Azkaban, made him feel too nostalgic. At least, in that place, there weren't confusing Legendary Wizards and gods or angels like absurd things.
He's only sixteen!
Even if he's part of Black Demon King's past, he's a part of Voldemort — it's still too much! Bring my peak-time self over here, and even the Avada Kedavra magic might become mundane among others here!
What a damn prehistoric era!
In a place like this, pulling any guy out might qualify them to be a more accomplished Black Demon King — even this Little Wizard chasing him seems to adapt to this era better!
"You're not planning to take me back to face trial, are you?"
It's not surprising that Riddle felt guilty, looking at the Little Wizard in front, he couldn't help but recall how this Little Wizard liked to feed other Voldemort souls to an evil Phoenix.
This was comparable to Helbo's tactics in its grandeur.
Had it not been for having no way out.
How could he run back and throw himself into the net?
Now.
Riddle felt he could only trust that Hogwarts' "love and kindness" education was still up to the mark as in the past.