Chapter 45 The Dark Lord and Riddle
Holding the green, crookedly shaped cedar wand in his hand,
the world seemed to change instantly.
His mind became sharper.
His previous careless behavior of simply using empty classroom desks and chairs for practice and then throwing them back without a second thought would likely never happen again.
His brain was more organized.
Even the smallest details he caught in the corner of his eye were absorbed.
A stream of information flooded his mind.
True damage, ignoring armor and magic resistance, deals direct damage.
This 50% means that half of the damage from a spell or [normal attack] is true damage.
The enemy hit will be unable to lie, meaning that until the effect of a spell cast with this wand is dispelled, they will be unable to lie, as if they have taken truth serum.
His stats panel updated accordingly.
[ID: 000000001]
[Spellbook Level: 3 (1100/100)]
[Name: Lane Smith/Bagel Granger]
[Race: Wizard]
[Identity: Hogwarts Gryffindor (Fire spells buff +1%) - First-year student (20 gems per day)]
[Date of Enrollment: 1991/07/27]
[Life Points: 10+15 (Echo bonus: 1000; False Life Points: 142·341)]
[Magic Power: 7+9]
[Luck: 3~7]
[Family Traits: True Sight (Constant), Red Dragon Blood (Awakening), Plant Affinity (Awakened), Potions Mastery (Awakened)]
This [True Sight]is the manifestation of the ability to see the truth.
Here, "eye" does not refer to the physical eye, but rather to the overall perception abilities such as sight, hearing, touch, taste, and smell.
His perception, or insight, increased by 10%, and his ability to detect lies was also specifically enhanced.
He could tell whether a man speaking a mile away was telling the truth through binoculars.
He could lick the sweat of a speaker and smell its fragrance to determine if they were lying.
He could also judge the sincerity of a person's words simply by touching less than an inch of their skin.
Compared to that, noticing Voldemort's attention was nothing special.
However, unfortunately, one thing was different from what Basil had imagined.
He did indeed have a second 'magic' bar, radiating rationality and as clear as crystal.
It overlapped with the original 'magic' bar, which was filled with majesty and heat.
But they only coexisted conceptually.
The 'magic' flowing within him did not increase with the appearance of the second [Wand Appearance] component.
Apart from gaining an additional talent and a few special abilities, there were no other changes.
The so-called true damage, when dealing with ordinary wizards who were physically weak, that is, those with low physical defense and no mental energy filling their magical field, was not much better than a bad curse.
At most, it just had more variety.
Ordinary, unintentionally added spells could be used as bad curses and other advanced spells.
In other words, elite wizards who can fill magical magnetic fields with mental power are particularly useful against magical creatures with high physical and magical resistance.
"The Bermuda Triangle is the area with the most exaggerated magical magnetic field disorder on the entire Earth. Even the Black Forest of Albania..."
On the other side, at Voldemort's request, Quirrell, who was giving a lecture with his back to the students, stiffened and stammered.
Why did Master make me contact this brat?
Quirrell didn't dare to think and turned his head directly, abruptly changing the topic.
"Mr. Granger, come to the office after class. I've found the answer to your question from last time."
Basil nodded.
He's taken the bait!
The little voice in his heart excitedly waved his fist.
In the Defense Against the Dark Arts office on the third floor, Quirrell had his back to Basil.
Quirrell took off his scarf, revealing an unusually small bald head.
On the back of this bald head was a face.
The face was as white as chalk, with glowing red eyes, and below it were two thin, snake-like nostrils.
Opposite him, Basil pulled a tattered diary with a black cover from his schoolbag.
At the same time, his azure eyes lost focus.
A voice came from the book.
Basil's mouth opened and closed in sync with it, his once clear and resonant voice now sounding eerily sinister.
"Long time no see, Voldemort, my so-called subject, the shameful loser."
"Loser?" The face emitted a hoarse, cold laugh. "A discarded remnant, a brat yearning for fatherly love, a lowly fragment of Riddle. Who gave you the courage to mock me, the purest inheritor of the great Slytherin blood, one step away from becoming the Wizarding King?"
"The Wizarding King?" Two cold laughs overlapped. "Oh? Who's under that stinky scarf? I thought it was some nobody."
"Enough!" the face snapped. "State your purpose! You must understand, you are merely the most insignificant of the five safeguards (Nagini isn't a Horcrux yet, and Voldemort doesn't even know Harry is one)!"
The diary scoffed, "Your 'loyal' servant—sent—me to Hogwarts. To kill this boy. To cover up the fact that the so-called Malfoy family is now just a toothless tiger. To tell the other families that even though the Malfoys have lost their Hogwarts board seats and had several shops seized, they are still not to be trifled with."
The face's red eyes narrowed, revealing neither joy nor sorrow: "Sent 'me'? It seems they really don't think I can rise again?"
The face began to answer its own question. The diary, too, remained silent.
And "they" referred to all the Death Eaters, including Malfoy, who, after his defeat, slipped back to his enemies, claiming innocence, ignorance, and that they had been afflicted with the Imperius Curse.
"Didn't they know I took precautions against death long ago? Didn't they witness me prove my boundless potential countless times when I was more powerful than any wizard?"
"I answered myself, perhaps they believe there is an even greater power capable of defeating Voldemort… perhaps they have now pledged allegiance to someone else… maybe even that leader of the commoners, that protector of Mudbloods and Muggles, Albus Dumbledore?"
"But clearly not. They don't fear Dumbledore. They simply believe I cannot rise again!"
Both Quirrell, controlled by the face, and Basil, 'controlled' by the diary, trembled in unison, enraged.
"Master, calm down!" Quirrell pleaded.
"Shut up!"
The X3 face continued, "Therefore, I believe that, apart from my friends suffering in Azkaban, the other traitors who claim to be my servants must pay a heavy price. Too many branches of the Death Eaters tree are rotten. They need pruning."
He turned his head to look at the diary,
seemingly implying something.
"So we need fresh blood too. The boy you've possessed is one of them."
The diary, along with the "controlled" boy, looked up. "This is also a servant I value. In fact, I came to you hoping you could find a way to get me out. A truly safe way. Not like Lucius Malfoy—crudely—using a cover woven from unicorn tail hair to suppress me, throwing me into this boy's arms via an owl."
"Safe? Hogwarts is the safest place. If you want safety, you should stay away from me." The face said this first, then pointed its alder wand to the other side of its head.
A flash of red light, and Quirrell lost consciousness.
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(End of Chapter)