As Quirrell's weak spiritual fluctuations echoed in his mind, Char also looked stunned. The unfinished paper Quirrell had left him had a title that was quite shocking: On the Feasibility of Giant Trolls Returning to the Titan Bloodline. Besides this title, it seemed that the basic theoretical framework had been largely established, though a lot of key information was still missing. It could be seen that this paper was a follow-up to Quirrell's unpublished paper on the troll priest. To revert a giant troll to a Titan, or at least increase the concentration of its Titan bloodline... even Char had to admire the boldness of this idea. Quirrell's talent in academic research was truly amazing. If only he hadn't met Voldemort, perhaps there would have really been another famous master in the history of magic. What a pity.
Regret and sigh were fleeting. His attention also shifted from the paper to the final warning Quirrell had left behind. "Be careful of that person?"
There was a hint of strangeness in his eyes. It wasn't that Quirrell had meant to be a riddler, but the speed at which his mental fluctuations had weakened was simply too fast. After all, the Troll Communication Spell was applicable to creatures with weak spirits like trolls. For Quirrell to use this magic to communicate with him without Dumbledore's knowledge, even when he was still intact, he would probably have had to bear enormous pressure and would not have been able to hold on for long, not to mention his near-death state just now. By the time he was about to say that person's name, his mental fluctuations had already stopped abruptly. The last trace of Quirinus Quirrell in the world had also vanished into thin air, leaving him with only a mystery.
"Who exactly is it that Quirrell wants me to be careful of?" All sorts of speculations flashed through his mind. The most likely, of course, was to be careful of Voldemort. But according to what Dumbledore had revealed, Voldemort's soul had already escaped from Hogwarts. And in the process, he had endured most of Dumbledore's magic that could even destroy the soul. Although Voldemort could not be completely killed because of the Horcruxes, he would probably lose most of his power, just like in the original novel, once again lurking in the shadows. It wasn't until his loyal servant found him again and planned the Goblet of Fire incident that he had successfully returned. During these years, Voldemort must have been in a state of extreme weakness. It was impossible for him to appear in the magical world again. But what if Quirrell's warning was referring to Voldemort? Did that mean he thought Voldemort could still pose a threat to Hogwarts? This made him frown and feel a headache. Could it be that Voldemort was pretending to be on the move while secretly attacking from another direction? The black smoke that had escaped was not his real soul, and his soul was still lingering in Hogwarts, playing a trick of hiding in the dark? It wasn't impossible. No one in the wizarding world could match Voldemort's research on the soul. Even if Dumbledore's strength was superior, it was not impossible for him to be tricked. It was also possible that during Voldemort's preparations for the trial in the Forbidden Forest, he had also left a backup plan in case his main plan failed, for example, a potion that could quickly restore his strength, or something else.
Of course, Quirrell's warning could be directed at other people. For example, Harry. His strange connection with Voldemort, before he was able to use Occlumency, was extremely dangerous. In the original work, Voldemort had not only used his connection with Harry to spread false information and plan the Battle of the Department of Mysteries, but even in that battle, he had been able to directly possess Harry's body. Even Dumbledore couldn't stop this. If Harry had not closed his spiritual connection with Voldemort due to the extreme grief of Sirius's death, the direction of that battle might have been unknown. Although the previous Voldemort could not compare to his peak state during the Battle of the Department of Mysteries, and Harry had not recovered a lot of strength like he had in the original novel during the final battle with the Philosopher's Stone, Harry was much more immature than he was in the Department of Mysteries. It was not ruled out that Harry could be possessed by Voldemort's soul.
In addition, he did not forget another person: Ron Weasley. Since it was possible that he had been contaminated by the power of the temple, Ron's behavior had become more and more weird. In addition to the visible improvement in his magical attainments, he had not forgotten Ron's strong hostility towards him during the Forbidden Forest trial. Quirrell had also undergone the Quintaped transformation, and this evil monster had a strange connection with the temple on the island of Delia. If he could sense that something was wrong with Ron and alert him, that would make sense. All sorts of confusing speculations ran through his mind. "Who is it?"
At the same time, in a Gryffindor dormitory, the young wizards were all fast asleep. They had all been cast under a Memory Charm to make them forget the horrific scene. After all, for a young wizard, everything that had happened in the Forbidden Forest trial was too much to bear. The aftereffect of the Forgetfulness Charm was that they had to sleep for a long time these days. But even in sleep, from time to time, expressions of fear and alarm still flashed across their faces. Obviously, those fears buried in their subconscious were not so easy to digest, even with the spell.
And at this time, in the silent dormitory, there was a sound constantly coming from the corner. "Squeak. Ouch." Rodent sounds, and the sound of a cage being banged against something. A gray mouse that looked very old, even its hair starting to become bald, one of its claws having disappeared without a trace. This was Scabbers, the pet mouse that the Weasley family had raised for over ten years, this year handed to Ron Weasley, a new student. Of course, no one knew the true identity of this mouse yet: Peter Pettigrew.
His eyes were so tight. Peter Pettigrew banged against the cage frantically, still screaming "Ah, ah, ah," venting the madness and depression in his heart. Eleven years, it had been eleven years! Eleven years ago, he had betrayed the Potters. He thought he could rely on this achievement to join the Dark Lord's side. But the Dark Lord had been defeated by a baby? This had made his betrayal a joke. Not only had he not enjoyed any benefits, but he could only pretend to be dead and use his Animagus to turn into a damn rat, playing the role of a pet in the Weasley family, living like this in a muddle for eleven years. If only he could sneak out of the Weasley house occasionally and briefly regain his human form, he would have almost forgotten that he was still a wizard. What kept him going day after day was only one thought: the Dark Lord would definitely make a comeback one day. He was a hero. As long as he could hold on, he would definitely have a good day.
While Harry and the others were discussing how to stop the bad guys from stealing the Philosopher's Stone, no one was more excited than Peter Pettigrew. After eleven years, he had finally gotten news of the Dark Lord. The Dark Lord would definitely get the Philosopher's Stone and make a comeback. He believed that he would be able to escape from this situation soon and come back to life again under the identity of Peter Pettigrew. Especially when a rumbling sound was heard in the Forbidden Forest and the castle fell into unprecedented chaos, he was laughing, laughing loudly. But now, all his hopes were dashed. The great Dark Lord had actually failed? Then how long would he have to hide as a mouse? When would these days end?!
Peter Pettigrew banged his hands against the cage frantically. He cursed everything he could remember in his mind and also prayed in his heart. "Let him come back! Send back the Dark Lord! I'm willing to pay any price!"
And just when he collapsed and despaired, a weak, cold voice sounded in his mind. "Oh. I'm really glad you think so. It showed me that only a small number of people in Azkaban were still loyal to me. In this corner of the wizarding world, there is still such a poor creature who is so loyal to me."
When he heard this sound, his eyes widened in horror. He huddled in a corner of the cage. "Who? Who is speaking? Where are you?!"
The voice, tinged with contempt, echoed in his mind again. "Look at how scared you are. What an utterly pathetic creature. It's not hard to know what your life was like when you were in school. Cowardly, desperately finding a small group, humbly joining it, just to have a group of strong people around to protect you."
His body trembled. "Stop talking."
But the voice continued to speak on its own. "Certainly. People like you reek of being someone who can be laughed at and abused. Even if you join a small group, you're just a laughing stock to be made fun of. Anyone can tease you, whether you're happy or not. Even some people whose backgrounds should be discriminated against can make fun of you. I'm in a good mood now, so I'll show you some good looks. When I'm in a bad mood, I scold you. You are a bottom-level existence. No status, no dignity. Just like your Animagus. What did you and your friends say when you finished the Animagus? I don't need to read your mind to know that. They were laughing. They were as expected. They patted you on the shoulder and laughed until their stomachs hurt—'Hey, Peter, your Animagus suits you really well.' Am I right?"
He was almost on the verge of collapse. He screamed crazily, trying to get this voice out of his head. But the voice was still unhurried, unraveling the truth, all his psychology, those parts that were the dirtiest, most shameful, and also the angriest and craziest, digging them out bit by bit. He now felt only fear. Everything about himself seemed to be exposed in front of this voice. "Please. Stop. Stop—otherwise, otherwise—"
The voice oppressed him step by step. "What else can we do?"
He suddenly let out the most insane roar he had ever let out. Saliva dribbled out of his mouth. It was like he had hit rock bottom and rebounded. The twisted spirit unleashed a force as powerful as the one he had felt on the night of betrayal. "Otherwise, I'll kill you!"
Suddenly, laughter rang out in his mind. "Yes, yes, that's it. Look, Peter, how angry and twisted you are. But it doesn't matter. Follow me and you won't have to suppress yourself anymore. If you are angry, vent it. If you are distorted, abuse it. A single rat can cause a plague that kills everyone. What about you? You want to be the rat cowering here, or do you want to become something that people are afraid of?"
His breathing became extremely rapid. No need to ask again. He already knew who the voice in his head was. "You are the Dark Lord."
The voice laughed. "Now, are you still unwilling to face your own heart? You still have one chance to change your name."
He crawled to the ground. "Master... Master." His voice trembled. "What can I do for you?"
Voldemort said with satisfaction, "Very good. You're more loyal than I thought. But for now, you don't have to do anything. It's not easy to hide from that old man Dumbledore and lurk in the castle. I've lost too much strength. But it's okay, Peter, the darkness in you is much stronger than Quirrell's. A genius like that only suffered some injustices. How much darkness could there be? But the decades of repression and anger in your heart are enough for me to slowly regain some strength. You will stay with Ron Weasley while I recover. This Weasley child has some mysterious powers." In his voice, a deep and cold feeling was revealed. "Also, his relationship with Harry Potter can be put to good use. This time, I can lie low for a very long time. I will figure out how to deal with Harry Potter. Also, that little guy who ruined my plan—"
But after a moment, his voice faded away. The price he had paid this time was too high. It was almost back to the state before meeting Quirrell, in the Albanian jungle. If it hadn't been parasitic on Peter Pettigrew, nourished by his long-pent-up negative emotions, he would soon be a shadow again. Now, he had to lie dormant for a very long time. But it didn't matter. He had plenty of opportunities. With every passing minute and second, Dumbledore grew a little older. And he remained as strong as ever. Wait until Dumbledore grew weaker. In the magical world, who else could stop him? Sooner or later, he would get to know the tricks played on Harry Potter.
At this time, Char had refused Dumbledore's offer to send him back to the Hufflepuff common room. Instead, he had arrived in front of the small greenhouse. It wasn't as if he was really frightened by the bloody scene, as Dumbledore thought, and needed to go back and have some tea or something. What's more, compared to those things, for him, farming was more effective in restoring his mood. Looking at the small greenhouse he had not seen for a long time, his original thoughts, which had been confused by Quirrell's warning, were completely cleared. Whatever Quirrell was trying to warn him about, since he couldn't guess, he didn't bother trying. Anyway, no matter what it was, it wouldn't be able to run rampant in Hogwarts in the short term. Dumbledore's nerves were definitely stretched to the limit. There was a raging fire of anger burning in his heart. This could be seen from the way he had dealt with Voldemort's escape. In the original book, Dumbledore had not used any means to stop it. But this time, he had cast several spells in succession that could destroy the soul. Didn't he know that Voldemort had some special methods that made him almost immortal? He must have known. But he had done it anyway. The reason was probably very simple: he was really pissed off. Even if he couldn't kill Voldemort, he had to make him feel the pain. If at this critical moment, any monsters and demons dared to jump out of Hogwarts, Char would be impressed by them. So brave. Isn't it good to be alive? So he didn't have to think too much during this period. Seizing this rare peaceful time to plant crops was the right thing to do. No one knew what would happen in the future. The only thing we can grasp is the present.
So a moment later, he rushed into the small greenhouse he had been away from for a long time. As soon as he entered, a faint blue light like the deep sea came into his eyes. He looked over subconsciously and saw clusters of dark blue blood jade swaying. And above it, each reward light ball was bright and full. It seemed as if the sound of deep sea waves was echoing in it. When his eyes fell on them, he took a deep breath. It was the set of blood jade mixed with the blood of the Kraken. It was only one step away from maturity. It was blended using the blood of three magical animals. In addition, there were extremely powerful creatures such as the Kraken, whose strength far exceeded level 5X. The rewards for this set of blood jade were much better than those of the previous sets. A platinum-level ability to regenerate severed limbs, a gold-level smoke-breathing ability, and a silver-level vortex ability. It was all about the Kraken. The first two could greatly increase his survivability. And the final vortex ability... he had not forgotten the whirlpool summoned by ancient magic when he was wrestling with the Kraken at the bottom of the sea. That kind of power was extraordinary. If it weren't for the sublimation of his legendary power, he was afraid he would have been on the verge of his limit. He was lacking a strong group attack ability. Even though the whirlpool could only be used in water, it was also an important supplementary means. If it was piled high enough, perhaps the whirlpool of this fake one like him might be stronger than that of the genuine Kraken.
And at this time, his heart was moved even more. An idea came to mind. His previously sublimated blood was extremely beneficial for the blood jade to cross the growth stage. But at that time, it was just that his legendary life had been sublimated once, and his legendary power had not yet been sublimated. Every time a legendary ability was sublimated, it meant that his life level was slightly improved. Now, perhaps his blood would be more effective than before?
At the same time, his gaze fell on the sublimated characteristic of the legendary power: the Unyielding Force. This characteristic allowed him to increase his strength to another level when he was close to his limit, reaching the level after the second sublimation of legendary power. He had already experienced how powerful it was. It was no exaggeration to say that in terms of pure brute force, there were probably not many creatures in the magical world that could match him. Perhaps only an ancient and special creature like the Kraken was qualified to wrestle with him. In this state, his life level was undoubtedly temporarily raised a little. "If we use blood in this state to water this group of blood jades that are about to mature, what's going to happen next?"
There was a burning sensation in his eyes. "Is it possible to increase the reward level a little bit?" Originally, this set of blood jade provided rewards, the highest being at the Platinum level. It was just his estimation. Even if he harvested all these reward light balls, it would be good enough if he could reach the critical point of platinum and diamond promotion. It was still difficult to reach the diamond level. After all, this qualitative change was much greater than the qualitative change from gold to platinum. But if the reward level could be raised a little bit, then it was very likely that he would gain a diamond-level ability to regenerate severed limbs.
At the same time, the scene of encountering those transformed Aurors during the Forbidden Forest trial also emerged in his mind. Not to mention that elite Auror Quintaped. It was a Quintaped transformed from an ordinary Auror. If he really wanted to fight head-on, relying purely on magic, he was no match for them. Not to mention top wizards like Dumbledore and Voldemort. The gap was still huge. This time, he had made Voldemort hate him. If Voldemort got the chance, he would probably kill him without hesitation. Not seizing every opportunity to improve himself as much as possible... did he want to wait until the moment of life and death, hoping that the enemy would show mercy and spare his life? There was no real danger to life. It was just pushing himself to the brink of his limit. It was possible to significantly increase the harvest. Others would probably beg for such a good thing but couldn't get it.
Taking a deep breath, a look of determination appeared in his eyes. So the next moment, his wand swung like a sword. The deadly Sectumsempra spell fell on his own body, cutting his flesh. In a moment of fog, a sharp pain came. Blood gushed out like a fountain. But his expression didn't change at all. Not enough. This was a fatal injury for ordinary people. To him, it was no different from a small cut from a knife. Not to mention reaching his limit. However, if it wasn't enough, then he would come again.
Immediately, he waved the wand in his hand continuously without stopping. Half an hour passed. He felt like he had been tortured to death. White bones were exposed all over his body. But even so, he was still far from reaching his limit. Occlumency in action, there was no trace of emotion in his eyes. He just kept doing such cruel things to himself. Another half an hour later, the familiar feeling of blurred vision began to emerge. Even a strong life could not sustain a huge wound covered in blood. But with limits came limits. There was also an exuberant and powerful force. This moment, the feeling of omnipotence surged in his heart again. Briefly, he reached the second level of legendary power. And he did not waste this short time that was gained after suffering countless pains. A puff of blood mist squeezed out from his nearly dried-up blood vessels, covering the deep blue blood jade. This blood mist seemed to be emitting a certain majesty, as if it had gradually ceased to be mundane.
A moment later, the blood mist seeped into the deep blue blood jade. In his blurred vision, he then saw the reward light ball above the blood jade begin to pulsate violently. Then, the reward light ball suddenly expanded. A system prompt appeared in front of his eyes.
[Due to the influence of powerful legendary blood, the reward level of blood jade has been improved.]
Immediately, Limb Regeneration (Platinum), Smoke Breath (Gold), Vortex (Silver)... the light on these reward information became brighter than ever before. When the light faded, what appeared before his eyes was the ability to regenerate severed limbs that was between platinum and diamond levels. There were also platinum-level smoke breath and gold-level vortex. He let out a breath, a smile appearing at the corner of his mouth. Then, as he raised his arms, he reached out and touched. Balls of light came pouring in in an instant.