"No!!! Hurry up and kill it!"
Riddle saw the wild boar about to launch an attack and hurriedly started rolling around on the ground in a very awkward manner.
He initially asked Ian for help, but seeing that Ian was still overwhelmed by the environment, he could only choose to save himself by frantically crawling on the ground.
No way around it.
Riddle was bound up like a dumpling, and there was no way he could stand up to run or resist; the rope on his body was a tool used by the priests of the Divine Hall to imprison wizards.
"Help me!"
Riddle's crawling really did resemble a slug.
The scene was oddly familiar.
Like certain scenarios.
Always playing out on different remnants of Voldemort's soul.
Perhaps this was fate.
"Stay away from me! Filthy beast!" Seeing that Ian was still not responding, Riddle had to desperately crawl over to Malfoy's side.
The Black Demon King was trying to pull off his usual tricks, attempting to use Malfoy to divert the wild boar's attention. However, the young Riddle didn't know that things that apply to some people also apply to a wild boar.
After all, their genes were quite similar.
The more he resisted, the more it piqued the "thug's" interest. The boar completely ignored the collapsed Malfoy and directly pinned the frail Riddle to the ground with its four hooves.
A one-on-one with the Black Demon King.
This pig might just make it into the history books.
"Damn it!! Get off! Get off!!" Riddle tried to roll and shake off the wild boar, but the boar, now with tusks, was a strength he couldn't match.
Pigs are indeed ferocious beasts.
Seeing the heavily built boar about to show Riddle its might, Riddle couldn't take it anymore. His face showed sheer panic as he screamed with all his might.
"Beast! How dare you!!!"
Perhaps.
It's not just the power of love that can manifest miracles; the desire to survive can too. At this moment, Riddle's will to live was even stronger than the fear of death, which caused the magic rope on him to slightly loosen.
The runes on it began to crack.
Invisible force erupted.
Like a second magical eruption.
It directly flipped the wild boar onto the ground, letting out a gut-wrenching scream – its belly that was aiming at Riddle got split open, with blood and entrails splattered everywhere.
"Huff huff huff!"
Seeing the crisis finally averted.
A sweat-drenched Riddle finally breathed a sigh of relief.
He lay in the mire.
Breathing heavily.
The broken rope on his body slowly fell off, but even though he had regained his casting ability, he didn't think of escaping. Instead, after composing himself, he grabbed Malfoy's pants.
He threw away his torn and shredded pants, put on the pair that didn't belong to him, and then angrily charged at the other pigs, venting all his fury and frustration.
Of course.
By casting spells violently.
Glimmers of green light appeared.
Wherever it passed, pigs dropped dead. He managed to perform wandless casting, which was truly spectacular, but the targets he dealt with were evidently not too extraordinary.
There were dead pigs all over the place.
Even the pink piglets weren't spared by this Black Demon King.
Truly ruthless.
"Enough."
Ian finally couldn't hold back, looking at Riddle, who was still planning to beat the corpse. It wasn't that he was just coming to his senses; rather, he had been using mental power to explore the environment around them.
"Looks like ancient tools aren't that durable either." Ian glanced at the broken magic rope, somewhat speculating, focusing his gaze once again on the still angry Riddle.
"I've never suffered such humiliation!"
Riddle's face was still ferocious, but after Ian spoke, he stopped his hands; even with regained magical power, he didn't dare lock eyes with Ian.
Only by experiencing it.
Can one understand just how terrifying the little wizard before him has become.
Don't even think about having the courage to raise a hand.
Riddle didn't dare even entertain a thought against Ian.
After coming back from death.
He completely lost his nerve.
"Don't panic; stay calm." Ian wanted to showcase his composure as a legend, but upon realizing they weren't in the Hogwarts era, he too found it hard to keep up appearances.
Though it seemed like he was speaking to Riddle, in essence, he was consoling himself.
"…"
Hearing Ian's words, Riddle was stunned; he wanted to say who could remain calm after almost being forced, yet he didn't dare to openly contradict the little monster in front of him.
This made the young Black Demon King's face flush red.
"The good news is we've left Pompeii, and the bad news is we crashed midway." Ian wasn't sure if he'd have a second chance at Hogwarts' invitation.
That's why he was somewhat panicked.
"Let me guess... Are we in the sixth century or seventh? Perhaps even earlier?" Riddle looked outside, only able to see vague buildings under the night sky.
But he's not judging the year based on that.
"I don't know."
Ian had sensed the surroundings; he only knew he was still stuck in ancient times, but as for the specific year, he hadn't gathered much useful information from the environment around him.
This was a secluded pig farm with dozens of pens, situated in a remote place.
"It shouldn't be too far off..."
Riddle sighed in discomfort.
"What do you mean?"
The little wizard demonstrated his curiosity; although he was immensely more powerful than Riddle, he had only attended a bit over a year at school, not mastering many fundamental aspects of knowledge before stepping into legends.