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He directed the horde of spirits forward, commanding the blackened wraiths to engulf Ian's flames. His voice, venomous and shrill, echoed through the battlefield. "You will burn! You will suffer!"
'This is getting rather troublesome.' Ian whispered softly as his wand surged with power once more.
"For all your supposed brilliance, I thought you were leagues ahead of me on the path of magic. Yet when pushed to the edge, this is all you can muster?"
"Frankly… it's disappointing."
Ian's eyes remained cold and unwavering as he spoke while he flicked his wand.
In an instant.
The Fiendfyre roared with renewed vigor, its sapphire flames surging like a tidal wave. The blue blaze swept through the air, devouring the black mist and the spirits it contained.
The souls howled in agony, their forms twisting and writhing as they burned.
Consumed by the enchanted fire, they shriveled and vanished, their remaining essence reduced to fuel for the relentless inferno.
The flames surged further, growing ever more ferocious.
"Your magic… It's impossible!"
Voldemort's ghastly visage twisted in horror. He felt the overwhelming tide of Ian's magical power and recoiled in disbelief.
"Who… who are you truly!?"
His frantic question was answered not by words but by a monstrous roar.
A colossal blue claw emerged from the flames, slashing through the air. It tore Voldemort's fragmented face apart, shattering the black mist and exposing the sunlit sky beyond the scorched remains of the forest.
"Me? I am just a junior who wants to use you as nourishment to aid my training."
Sunlight shone on the ravaged earth as a faint gold glow fell on the little wizard's face.
The flames burned away the black mist.
And completely dispelled the darkness.
But it didn't stop. Because the black mist didn't contain Voldemort's remnant soul— only a fragment of his will.
The surging Fiendfyre turned into ferocious giant beasts, beginning to search the Forbidden Forest.
Voldemort's remnant soul fled really fast.
He had clearly been prepared for both outcomes: either his magic would kill the wizard chasing him, or it would buy him precious time to escape.
Feeling his magic being annihilated like dry twigs, Voldemort's remnant soul fled like a madman.
As if realizing something, his heart was filled with terror and dread.
"It's Dumbledore! That sly, hypocritical bastard! It must be him! It must be him who took the Polyjuice Potion to lure me on purpose!"
Clearly.
Voldemort's remnant soul had misunderstood something. This made the panic in his heart grow even thicker. He fled with all his might toward what might be his only chance at survival.
Over ten kilometers away.
"Master, Master has lost contact with me again…" Quirrell had gone to some lengths to cover his tracks, sneaking into the Forbidden Forest to meet the Dark Lord, who had recently reestablished contact with him.
Since he'd only received the order to come to the Forbidden Forest without further details, he could only search cave after cave for a possessed creature based on his guesses about the Dark Lord's state.
Holding his wand cautiously as he probed a cave, Quirrell didn't notice a dark shadow darting toward him from behind.
"My servant! My servant!"
Voldemort's remnant soul, gripped by his Dumbledore phobia and fearing the "Dumbledore" who might catch up any moment, didn't hesitate to rush toward Quirrell ahead.
He only wanted to hide in a living body to temporarily avoid being found. For that reason, without a second thought, Voldemort plunged into Quirrell, who had his back turned.
"Ah!"
Caught off guard, Quirrell let out a panicked scream.
"Shut up! Fool! It's me!" Voldemort's voice sounded in Quirrell's mind, slightly calming the flustered Quirrell. He felt Voldemort's soul enter his body.
"Run!"
At Voldemort's urging, he tried to dart to Quirrell's nape.
However.
The magic he'd cast earlier had taken too great a toll. His now-exhausted soul lacked the strength, and his noseless face could only gradually appear where he'd entered.
On Quirrell's buttocks.
Feeling the odd sensation in his rear, Quirrell's old face flushed red. He wanted to cover it but feared his actions might offend Voldemort, incurring his wrath and harsh punishment.
"Master… how did you…"
Quirrell stammered, trying to tactfully ask Voldemort to shift his parasitic spot.
But the utterly weakened and terrified Voldemort didn't let him finish.
"I told you to run!" Voldemort was practically roaring in fury.
"Huh?"
Quirrell still felt a bit confused. Though the Forbidden Forest indeed held many dangerous creatures, even he should be fine as long as he was careful.
"Fool! Get out of the cave! Look at the sky!" Voldemort's voice rang in Quirrell's mind— thankfully not from his buttocks.
"Yes, yes… Master." Quirrell hurriedly retreated from the not-so-deep cave.
But the moment he stepped out, he immediately wanted to crawl back in.
"Hiss! This… this…"
Quirrell sucked in a sharp breath, his legs going weak. He plopped down onto the ground with a thud. He really wasn't disrespecting Voldemort, it was just that the scene outside had terrified him.
Above the Forbidden Forest, where the sky should've been clear and boundless.
Countless flame-formed western dragons were now soaring! They roared ferociously, their anger palpable. The Fiendfyre-turned-beasts blotted out the sky as if to devour everything, looking utterly terrifying as they did so!
"Damn bastard! Get up!"
Voldemort, pressed to the ground, felt a fresh wave of humiliation. But seeing a Fiendfyre-formed western dragon whoosh past the cave entrance where Quirrell was, he seemed to realize something.
He immediately stopped Quirrell, who was apologizing profusely and scrambling to stand in a panic.
"Stay sitting! Sit! Shrink back into the cave!"
Between dignity and survival.
The Dark Lord clearly made his choice.
He chose to bear the shame while his hatred for Dumbledore grew even stronger in his heart.
…
In front of a small cabin outside the Forbidden Forest.
"I didn't expect Dumbledore would send you to assist me. Honestly, Snape, I don't trust you. To me, you're a thoroughbred dark wizard." Hagrid spoke with clear disdain, tightening his grip on his massive crossbow.
He glanced back at Fang, who was barking furiously at the big black bat in front of them.
"Two Unicorns have gone missing in a row. What do you think the guy bold enough to target Unicorns could be?
I'll be honest— I'd love to see you die in the Forbidden Forest. But obviously, Dumbledore thinks it's not your time yet." Snape sneered mockingly at the half-Giant before him.
He merely glared at the timid "ferocious dog." The next moment, the sturdy Fang instantly fell silent. Even hiding behind Hagrid, it didn't dare muster its courage again.
"I can figure this out myself! I don't need you!" Hagrid's temper flared at Snape's taunts.
Don't let me find out who stole the Unicorns! That scoundrel must've nicked things from my house too! I won't let that despicable thief off easy, I'll have him scrubbing the Hippogriff pens for three days straight when I catch him!
Clearly.
Hagrid had noticed the theft from his house and linked it to the missing Unicorns. He grumbled and cursed under his breath, his heavy footsteps pounding toward the entrance of the Forbidden Forest.
Since he had his back to Snape, Hagrid didn't see the way Snape's gaze flickered with unease or the slight twinge of guilt that crossed his face. Snape knew he may have been a little overzealous with his last "restock."
Normally, Hagrid wouldn't have even noticed.
"Whether it's poachers or something far worse, a wandless half-Giant like you can't handle it. You have no idea what kind of horrors might be lurking behind this." Snape's tone was dripping with disdain as he quickened his pace to keep up.
Of course, he wasn't just following Hagrid for Dumbledore's sake. He had a more practical reason: ensuring his potion ingredient supply chain remained intact.
(To Be Continued…)