Vera stared at the figure before her.
Dark green wizard robes.
Eyes as green as emeralds.
A handsome, familiar young face.
And most unsettling of all—
A half-smile playing across his lips.
For a moment, terror seized Vera, cold sweat breaking across her back.
She smoothly moved her wand to chest level.
The tip glowed with faint red light, pulsing with sharp magical energy.
The message was clear: any hostile move would trigger an immediate curse.
"Tom Riddle!"
Vera fixed her gaze on his face, pronouncing the name with solemn gravity.
"The spatial disruption just now—that was your doing?"
Though phrased as a question, her tone carried unmistakable accusation.
The situation defied coincidence. An almost foolproof Apparition had inexplicably failed, resulting in a rare spatial anomaly. Worse still, her forced emergence had delivered her directly to Voldemort's stronghold.
And now the architect of the Federation himself stood before her.
Anyone experiencing such a sequence would draw the same conclusion.
However...
"Your experience has nothing to do with me," Voldemort replied pointedly, his tone tinged with subtle mockery.
Observing Vera's skepticism, he continued with a smile: "But I must confess significant interest in what just happened to you."
A wizard cursed by the world itself.
This represented an exceptional research opportunity.
"What do you mean?"
Tom Riddle's gaze reminded her of someone examining a rare specimen.
Vera bristled visibly.
Her wand flicked slightly, summoning a wisp of dark blue spatial energy that swirled around its tip.
Simultaneously, profound spatial fluctuations enveloped their surroundings.
Voldemort's smile faded, replaced by serious contemplation.
What had Lockhart been doing all this time?
How could a mere student possess such treasures—and not just one or two?
Recalling the temporal power he had witnessed recently, Voldemort felt growing irritation.
With his strength alone, he could easily crush these Lockhart students.
But their seemingly endless supply of trump cards presented a problem.
While they posed no existential threat to him, they could certainly complicate matters.
Most aggravating.
"It's nothing interesting," Voldemort said quietly, drawing his yew wand. "I simply wondered how you've been faring recently."
Hearing these words, Vera's delicate features instantly hardened.
"What do you know?" she demanded grimly, recalling her frustrating journey. She gripped her wand tighter.
This time, Voldemort offered no verbal response. He simply observed her.
Those green eyes now showed streaks of bloody crimson.
He seemed to be studying Vera's condition with unusual intensity.
Then—
"Petrificus Totalus!"
Vera could wait no longer. She slashed her wand forward, sending a petrification spell directly at her opponent.
Dark red light infused with deep magical power shot toward Voldemort at lightning speed.
The next moment—
Buzz!
Instantly, a bloody mist materialized around Voldemort's body.
As the magical beam approached him, the blood mist surged forward like a ravenous mouth, swallowing the spell completely.
"Repulso Maximus!"
"Difindo!"
Witnessing this defense, Vera's pupils contracted sharply. She rapidly cast multiple spells at Voldemort while retreating strategically.
She sought an opportune moment to escape.
Understandably so.
She had never been a match for Ian even when they fought together.
Now, alone, she felt acutely vulnerable—especially after seeing that blood-red mist surrounding Voldemort.
The moment it appeared, her keen intuition had screamed warnings about its deadly nature.
However—
Thud!
Voldemort took a heavy step forward.
The wand in his hand moved with apparent casualness.
Instantly, the surrounding ground, walls, and glass began to twist.
Within seconds, a barrier of earth and stone materialized before him.
A succession of violent impacts followed as Vera's curses struck the barrier without effect.
Meanwhile, Vera continued retreating.
Suddenly, a dark yellow puppet figure composed of earth and stone appeared before her.
She halted, casting a dark, solemn look around her position.
As expected, with herself at the center, similar earth and stone puppets had emerged in every direction.
Moreover, these constructs displayed bloody, unbalanced veins across their surfaces.
Their eyes fixed upon her as they steadily closed the distance.
It seemed...
Another trump card would be necessary.
Though reluctant, Vera's movements remained fluid and decisive.
Her wand traced patterns through the air.
A dark blue thread manifesting powerful spatial fluctuations appeared.
The original power of space itself!
Zhi! Zhi! Zhi!
The moment four dark blue spatial lines materialized, the surrounding space began to tremble. Pitch-black threads started to appear.
Spatial fractures!
Sensing the threat posed by these rifts, all puppet figures halted their advance.
In the distance, Voldemort quietly observed everything unfolding before him.
He took no action.
He appeared to be waiting for something.
Watching this passive Voldemort, who seemed content merely to observe her, Vera felt growing unease.
This discomfort intensified with each passing moment.
Regardless, Vera pressed forward with her strategy. With a decisive wave of her wand, the dark blue thread—condensed with primordial spatial power—shot forward.
It flew directly toward Voldemort.
Spatial fractures like black threads spread rapidly in his direction, propelled by the primordial spatial energy.
At this moment, Tom Riddle appeared to recognize the threat.
Whoosh!
His entire body disintegrated instantly, transforming into formless dark red mist that floated diffusely.
Though the dark blue spatial power consumed part of the blood-red mist, most remained intact.
The blood mist that devoured everything!
The same blood-devouring fog that had once given Lockhart such difficulty.
It had returned.
Surprisingly, however, the blood-red mist made no move toward Vera. It simply remained stationary.
After the dark blue spatial power dissipated, the mist recondensed into human form, restoring Voldemort's appearance.
He continued watching Vera intently.
"What exactly does he want?" Vera wondered, deeply perplexed.
In their current situation, Voldemort clearly held the advantage.
Yet he declined to press it.
He seemed content to observe, like someone watching a theatrical performance.
Though confused, Vera wouldn't squander such an opportunity.
She retreated several steps until reaching the building's glass exterior.
Assessing the half-empty floor, Vera waved her wand. Sharp dark red light erupted, instantly shattering the glass.
Boom!
With the explosive sound of breaking glass, Vera leapt through the opening and flew rapidly away.
Voldemort watched this calmly. He rose into the air and followed Vera at a leisurely pace.
He appeared deliberately unhurried, as if ensuring Vera had sufficient time and adequate preparation for whatever came next.
"Damn it, what on earth does Voldemort want?" Vera muttered as she flew into the distance.
Sensing Tom Riddle following at a measured pace, she cursed silently.
She raised her wand, preparing to disapparate.
However, just as she began the motion, an overwhelming sense of danger surged through her body.
The sensation froze her mid-movement.
Danger! Danger! Danger!
Her intuition screamed frantic warnings.
Vera quickly abandoned her attempt to disapparate.
But then—
Whoosh! Whoosh!
Heavy rain began falling, water cascading rapidly from the high altitude.
Vera's spirits plummeted.
Every misfortune seemed determined to find her today.
Yet this proved merely the beginning—
Boom!
Crack!
A deafening roar split the sky, followed immediately by the crackling sound of thunder and lightning.
"Iron Armor Protection!"
Responding to the sudden crisis, Vera instantly cast an iron armor spell around herself.
Simultaneously, a bolt of lightning struck her directly.
The powerful armor spell absorbed the thunderbolt's energy, then dissipated.
Vera immediately cast a second iron armor spell.
She harbored no illusions about her luck now.
Rain during clear daylight was unusual enough. Thunder and lightning accompanying it might still be considered normal.
But the one-in-ten-million probability of a lightning bolt striking her directly?
This transcended mere bad luck.
Yet worse followed—
Boom!
Screech!
Thunder rumbled across the sky, accompanied by a piercing bird cry that echoed through the heavens.
Vera looked up to see an enormous thunderbird beating powerful wings, summoning wind, rain, and lightning as it descended toward her.
Like a predator closing on its prey.
"Damn it!" Vera cursed aloud.
She now understood—this storm was no natural phenomenon.
The Thunderbird had created it, and apparently targeted her specifically.
As a 5X-class magical creature, the Thunderbird danger required no elaboration.
Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!
Each powerful wing beat generated howling winds. With every flap, blue-tinged thunder rippled through the air.
The Thunderbird's sharp eyes remained fixed on Vera.
It showed no intention of abandoning its quarry.
"Avada Kedavra!"
Confronted with this threat, Vera hesitated no longer. She employed the Killing Curse directly.
Regardless of the Thunderbird's 5X classification, no creature survived direct contact with the Death Curse.
Boom!
The Thunderbird, apparently sensing the Killing Curse's danger, beat its wings frantically. Dark blue thunder crashed into the approaching green death magic.
Several consecutive thunderbolts forcibly dispersed the Killing Curse.
Voldemort observed this exchange from a distance.
Though his eyes reflected complex thoughts, his expression remained neutral.
He had permitted Vera's escape for two reasons. First, he remained uncertain how many more magical resources she might possess.
If cornered too aggressively, she might reveal something truly problematic.
Second, and more importantly—
He wanted to witness firsthand what happened to one cursed by the world itself.
He had contributed significantly to the events that night in London, orchestrating circumstances specifically to observe the world's curse in action.
But now...
The effects seemed relatively underwhelming.
As he watched the Thunderbird attack Vera again, Voldemort contemplated silently.
Mere weather changes and attacks by magical creatures.
The most significant effect remained the spatial disruption that prevented successful Apparition.
Beyond these, he observed nothing particularly noteworthy.
Most importantly, none of these phenomena presented truly life-threatening danger to the witch.
The world's curse appeared less formidable than anticipated.
Voldemort continued his passive observation as Vera battled the Thunderbird.
Boom!
After several minutes of combat, a thunderous explosion echoed across the sky. The Thunderbird's massive body plummeted lifelessly to earth.
Ignoring the fallen creature, Vera flew rapidly away, determined to escape.
During their confrontation, she had begun noticing subtle abnormalities in her surroundings.
She suspected she labored under some curse.
What else could explain such extraordinary misfortune?
The obvious culprit was Voldemort, who maintained his distance while observing her predicament.
If his intentions weren't malicious, what else could explain his behavior?
Though her specific suspicions missed the mark, her general intuition proved accurate.
As she flew, Vera continuously waved her wand, both accelerating her flight and cleansing various auras from her body.
She worked to shield herself from any curses potentially attached to her person.
Red light, yellow light, and green light flashed repeatedly.
A series of counter-curses flowed across her body.
Though no specific curse manifested, the process provided psychological comfort.
At some point, Voldemort's figure quietly vanished from the distance.
When Vera noticed his absence, she felt moderate relief.
Nevertheless, concerns lingered that this might represent some elaborate deception, or that she herself had become unwitting bait in a larger scheme.
Rather than returning directly to New York, she altered course, continuing her journey through Europe.
New York, Blanche District
Ian stood before the gates of the New York Sanctum, with Carter, Kaecilius, and others beside him.
They regarded the structure they had built with their own hands.
Smiles of accomplishment spread across their faces.
Finally, the Sanctum stood complete.
Next, they would activate the magical circle and connect to the world's dimensional void.
Then they could welcome the arrival of additional Kamar-Taj sorcerers.
This would dramatically increase their available power.
Rather than perpetually fleeing pursuit, they could finally establish proper defenses.
They maintained general awareness of Vera's situation.
Though concerned, they feared intervention might represent a trap, so they refrained from immediate action.
After all, Vera's life appeared not to be in immediate danger—she was simply evading pursuit.
With the Sanctum nearing completion, creating additional complications seemed unwise.
"Teacher Kaecilius, what remains to be done?" Ian asked softly.
Kaecilius gazed at the familiar New York Sanctum, a faint smile playing across his face.
"Just one more task," he replied.
"We must power the magical array and activate its full potential."
"Then we can welcome Kamar-Taj masters to join us."
Excitement tinged Kaecilius' words.
Though he had previously guarded the New York Sanctum, this marked his first experience establishing one from its foundations.
Hearing this, Carter's face brightened with a gentle smile.
The day had finally arrived.
After more than thirty years, this momentous occasion had finally come to pass!