At the inn he had just checked into, Allen sneezed repeatedly, wondering if he had caught a cold from the sudden, extreme temperature change. That would be rare, ever since gaining Garen's powerful physique, he hadn't gotten sick even once.
A true man keeps his word, if he said he was giving half of the inheritance, then he was giving half.
There wasn't a shred of dishonesty in Allen's actions.
If it was a dangerous deal where lives were on the line, then the goods had to be real. One must be principled, after all.
However… how that "half" was delivered was up to him.
Half, yes, some people withhold the back portion, giving only the beginning.
Some withhold the beginning and give the thrilling later half, leaving the buyer unable to stop once they start reading.
Allen, however, simply cut the information right down the middle,
He handed over the upper half and not the lower half…
That was still half, wasn't it?
Let's all speak with conscience, who could say it wasn't half?
••┈┈┈┈┈༓┈┈┈┈┈•••
Ignoring the three Aurors who were currently staring blankly at their half-complete material like idiots, the last thing Allen did before going to sleep was attempt to contact Valor again. Even though he had already confirmed before departure that Voldemort's remnant soul was indeed there, it never hurt to double-check.
Same as before, dear Voldemort was still very much in a state of madness.
…Hm?
Wait.
Allen suddenly noticed something strange, through Valor's vision, he saw damp sand scattered everywhere.
There was no way Voldemort had suddenly decided to become a ground mole.
He was doing something, something big.
Even an idiot knows the difference between cold and hot, comfort and pain. Voldemort was no idiot… Allen believed firmly that the backlash of the curse had caused his personality to fall into chaos.
That meant he must be searching for a solution.
For example, returning to the place where that golden stone tablet originally came from.
Damn it. We can't wait any longer!
If Voldemort's remnant soul solved his problem first, this ambush would turn into a volunteer sacrifice run.
Allen jumped out of bed in his pajamas, hurriedly changed clothes, and rushed to knock on Annie's door.
"Brother…?" Annie rubbed her sleepy eyes. "It's so late, what's, "
"We have to go. Now. If we don't move, things will get bad. Very bad."
One minute later, Annie was dressed and standing beside him.
They activated a teleportation circle right inside the inn, destination: an oasis about a kilometer away from the original target site. Valor had already scouted the location beforehand.
After confirming the area was clear, Allen used a pre-arranged signal badge to summon the previously designated allies.
The first to arrive were the three Aurors.
Their leader looked exhausted, clearly, that half of the inheritance had kept him awake all night.
They had verified it was real, but having only half was somehow more painful than having none at all.
But that didn't matter, Allen never intended to cheat his payment anyway.
After all, once you scam someone once, if you do it well, you'll definitely get the chance to scam them again.
One must be sincere in life.
Before they could exchange a few stiff greetings, another group arrived, these were the wizards Allen had hired.
These men were far more obedient.
Not that they had a choice, Allen had hired them through a friend, and that friend's identity held considerable influence. With such backing, even if Allen still had a baby face, none of them dared question him.
This finally made the Auror start taking things seriously.
He already recognized Allen's strength, and from their Ministry's informants, he also had a clear evaluation of Annie's abilities.
So what kind of terrifying enemy would make even Allen, someone he had to be cautious around, prepare so thoroughly?
Unfortunately, Allen had no plans of telling him.
If he spoke that name aloud…
He doubted any of these people would still have the courage to stand.
That name carried an official title:
The Dark Lord.
Even just hearing that name made legs go weak.
Fight?
Forget it, most would surrender immediately.
Thankfully, Voldemort was currently half-insane and unable to use his persuasive charisma.
Otherwise, Allen would've destroyed the inheritance before letting him recover, even if it cost him dearly.
If Voldemort were in his right mind… Allen would already be sending a distress signal to the Order of the Phoenix.
"Let's go. Everyone stay alert and keep your defenses up, what you're about to face will be more terrifying than anything you've ever encountered!!!"
Though spoken by a child, Allen's words carried a force that pressed down on every person present.
His presence alone compensated for the disadvantage of his age.
The moon was dim, but the stars were bright, truly not the kind of night suited for killing.
When they reached the target location, a massive pit lay before them, damp sand scattered everywhere.
Fortunately, there were no jewels, no gold, no stone tablet,
Good news.
It meant Voldemort hadn't found what he wanted yet.
"Prepare your strongest magic. The moment that magical creature bursts from underground, release your most powerful spells, even forbidden curses are allowed."
Allen's voice was quiet, but firm.
The surrounding wizards nodded instinctively.
Allen himself pulled out a small pouch, opening it towards the wind.
With a gust, countless seeds scattered across the desert.
As the seeds fell, several wizards suddenly heard harsh, eerie "Kaa! Kaa!" cries.
They looked up,
A flock of birds circled overhead, something that should not have appeared here.
Just as half the seeds had settled, a massive shadow rose from the pit,
Before anyone else could react, Allen hurled the pouch and fired a spell.
Immediately afterward, the African mercenary wizards followed suit, they didn't care what the enemy was. The employer had attacked, so they attacked.
The Aurors released their spells last, only after confirming the target wasn't human.
Allen's magic struck first,
Hundreds of tiny flowers bloomed the instant they hit the airborne pouch, followed by an explosive detonation.
Next came the mercenaries' deep crimson combination spell, a blast that looked like it could burn the world itself.
Last were the Aurors' three pale-blue spells, clear and sharp, piercing straight through the billowing sandstorm like nothing could stop them.
When the first wave ended, everyone except Allen focused on the creature they had attacked.
With a strike like that,
Even a dragon would have been seriously injured, right?