"[Crucio]!"
"[Fiendfyre]!"
"[Confringo]!"
His basilisk not only failed to support him, but was instead being brutally slaughtered before his eyes—
Tom Riddle finally panicked.
He swung his wand frantically, unleashing one powerful dark spell after another, desperately trying to break through and reunite with the basilisk.
The enemy had transformed into a feathered serpent that perfectly countered the basilisk.
Then, after weakening it, they had even produced roosters.
Clearly, they had known the basilisk's identity long in advance and had prepared specifically to kill it.
Under such circumstances, the best option was naturally to switch opponents.
He would personally deal with the feathered serpent—
And the basilisk could easily crush the two girls.
That was the best solution Riddle could think of.
"As long as… I can get there…"
"Damn it!"
Yet no matter how violently he bombarded the battlefield—
No matter how desperately he tried to force an opening—
One figure stubbornly blocked his path.
The girl wielding the longsword.
Riddle had no idea what kind of weapon she carried—
But the sight of her slicing spells apart with a sword left him utterly dumbfounded.
There was actually such exquisite swordsmanship in this world?
More importantly—
There was actually such a ridiculous sword?!
His Cruciatus Curse.
His Explosion Curse.
His Shattering Curse.
Even the Killing Curse—
Nearly every spell he cast was cut apart by her blade.
Only the Killing Curse forced her to struggle slightly when blocking it.
What kind of sword could possibly possess such outrageous power?
Riddle did not know that the opponent before him was not merely a genius wizard or a powerful druid—
But also a top-tier alchemist capable of creating the Philosopher's Stone.
Ever since touching the Magic Stone, Lewis's alchemical talent had risen to rival any grandmaster alive.
And after personally crafting a Philosopher's Stone himself, his understanding of alchemy had advanced directly to the level of essence itself.
Which naturally led to him creating utterly absurd magical equipment.
The moment Ciri received Arcane Sword 2.0, she fully understood just how terrifying this "artifact" truly was.
Lewis had gone completely insane while enchanting it.
Embedded within the blade were layers of magic including Shield Charm, Counterspell, Anti-Magic Field, and many others.
Centered around the Shield Charm, the sword had been forged into an overwhelmingly powerful anti-magic weapon.
Under normal conditions, Arcane Sword 2.0 functioned as an ideal weapon for magical swordsmen.
But by channeling magic into the blade in a specific way, its anti-magic functions could be activated.
The greater the magical input—
The stronger its anti-magic power became.
In other words—
She could literally use the sword to contest magical power head-on with enemy spellcasters.
You cast one spell.
I cut down one spell.
Simple.
And who exactly was Ciri?
Ciri Riannon.
Bearer of the Elder Blood.
A natural Source.
In terms of magical power, there were very few people in the world who could overpower her.
Riddle simply lacked the information and suffered terribly because of it.
Among all his dark magic, only Fiendfyre managed to genuinely trouble Ciri.
But Hermione quickly realized that Fiendfyre was fundamentally still magical fire enhanced by dark magic.
So under her direction, she and Ciri combined Flame Protection and Magic Circle Against Evil to suppress the cursed flames together.
No matter how stubbornly Riddle resisted—
He could only watch helplessly as the basilisk marched toward death beneath the cries of the roosters.
Eventually—
The battle on that side ended.
Riddle, Hermione, and Ciri all stopped simultaneously.
As Lewis approached step by step, carrying the momentum of someone who had slain the basilisk itself—
Everyone understood.
The basilisk was dead.
The outcome had already been decided.
Ciri and Hermione exchanged a glance.
Then, in perfect tacit understanding, they stepped forward and stood at Lewis's sides.
Facing the three of them—
And the phoenix circling overhead—
The once arrogant Tom Riddle now stood completely alone.
Weak.
Pathetic.
Helpless.
"I underestimated you, mudblood!"
Now cornered, Riddle no longer cared about maintaining elegance.
The refined demeanor of the so-called Heir of Slytherin completely vanished.
Curses and insults poured from his mouth without restraint.
"I never imagined you would identify the creature of the Chamber ahead of time!"
"And I certainly didn't expect you to possess some ridiculous magical Animagus transformation!"
"And those two followers of yours…"
"Consider yourself lucky!"
"The girls you found are far stronger than the useless trash who followed me back then!"
The moment he opened his mouth—
Lewis heard excuse after excuse spilling out endlessly.
The inability to accept defeat made Riddle look absolutely ridiculous.
Lewis merely shook his head calmly.
"A victory is a victory."
"It has nothing to do with bloodline."
"And nothing to do with luck."
"My strength surpasses yours."
"So my victory over you was inevitable."
"Hermione nodded immediately."
"Lewis is right."
"You only see that we're stronger than your old followers."
"But what you don't know is that I'm also what you call a mudblood."
"The reason I possess this power…"
"…is because Lewis personally trained me."
Ciri also lifted her sword proudly.
"And this sword?"
"He made it for me."
Ah, truly worthy of being my precious little cotton jackets.
Such supportive girls.
Objectively speaking—
One was sixteen, the other thirteen.
One was a destined savior, the other effectively the female lead of the entire story.
The fact they could suppress sixteen-year-old Voldemort together was not solely because of Lewis's help—
It was also because of their own talent and effort.
And yet now, standing before Voldemort himself, both girls willingly downplayed their own achievements to support Lewis instead.
All the effort he spent caring for them had truly not gone to waste.
Listening to their praise—
Watching the jealousy twisting Riddle's face—
Lewis maintained a calm expression externally while inwardly feeling thoroughly delighted.
"Tom Riddle."
Lewis stared directly at the young Dark Lord and spoke softly.
"Surrender."
"If you don't have any more tricks left…"
"Then put down your wand and give up."
"No."
Riddle suddenly smiled.
"I really do have one final trump card."
The next instant—
His body exploded into black smoke and shot toward Harry's unconscious body.
In the blink of an eye, he appeared beside Harry and pointed his wand directly at the boy's head.
"Now…"
"Move aside and clear my path out of here."
"Otherwise I'll kill Potter!"
"You don't want to watch your precious classmate die right in front of you, do you?!"
Seeing this scene—
Lewis froze for two seconds.
Then burst into uncontrollable laughter.
"HAHAHAHAHAHA!!"
"I never imagined this day would come."
"Tom Riddle reduced to this level."
He stared directly at the translucent dark wizard before him and spoke with deadly seriousness:
"Then do it."
"As long as you kill him, I'll be forced to live with the pain of causing a classmate's death."
"I'll suffer endless guilt."
"I'll never be able to face Dumbledore again."
"You wouldn't possibly hesitate… would you?"
"Or what?"
"Are you too kind-hearted now, Riddle?"
"Unwilling to murder an innocent boy?"
"Even though he destroyed your main body and caused the collapse of the Death Eaters?"
Lewis taunted him recklessly, practically begging him to kill Harry.
At the same time—
His left hand tightly gripped Hermione's wand hand, silently signaling her to stay calm.
Lewis's bizarre reaction stunned Riddle.
And at the same time—
It felt strangely familiar.
…Where had he heard words like these before?
Then the young Dark Lord slowly raised his wand.
His voice became vicious and cold.
"You think I'll hesitate?"
"No."
"You stupid mudblood."
"Avada Kedavra!"
A burst of green light exploded across the Chamber of Secrets.
If you want to read 60 chapters ahead of the public release, head over to: Patreon.com/RedString