"Don't worry, Quirrell. This is only temporary. Your body simply doesn't suit my taste."
Sharing the same body, Voldemort could easily sense Quirrell's thoughts. He glanced toward the unicorns fleeing not far away, a savage grin spreading across his face.
"Now it's time for the hunt."
The moment the words fell, Quirrell's body dropped low to the ground, crawling forward like a massive spider as it shot after the unicorns at frightening speed.
The unicorns were incredibly fast in the forest. True to their reputation as forest spirits, they ran even faster than the finest racehorses.
But that speed still wasn't enough in the face of the monstrous Voldemort.
Behind them came the sound of fabric scraping against the earth, rushing closer and closer, like a lingering wraith locked onto their souls, impossible to shake and steadily closing the distance.
For Quirrell, this movement meant unbearable pain. Every time Voldemort swung their limbs, Quirrell's twisted joints were dragged across torn flesh. The agony forced human screams from his throat, sending countless small creatures in the forest scattering in terror.
It wouldn't be long before Voldemort caught the slowest unicorn.
The unicorn leader, the fastest of the herd, quickly realized the danger. It deliberately slowed down, glancing back at the rapidly approaching Voldemort. Its intent was clear: draw the monster away and buy time for the herd to reach the Botanical Garden.
That place was their confirmed sanctuary. With the protection of the plants there, the herd would be safe.
As for itself…
The swift-footed unicorn leader was confident it could outrun that awkward, unnatural monster.
Just then, a powerful unicorn suddenly slowed, instantly catching Voldemort's attention.
For ordinary animals, fleeing was instinct. The stronger the creature, the faster it ran when danger appeared.
But magical creatures with high intelligence possessed moral instincts close to those of humans.
Such as protecting the weak.
This sturdy unicorn was clearly one of the finest among its kind. It slowed down on purpose to draw the hunter's focus, planning to accelerate and escape once it became the target.
That trick wouldn't work on some predators. A cheetah, for instance, would never be distracted. It chose only the prey it could catch.
Cheetahs lacked the confidence to hunt powerful targets. A weak meal was enough.
But Voldemort was no cheetah.
He possessed a confidence far beyond one.
Because he was Voldemort. And he could do nearly anything, including killing that powerful unicorn.
He was even worrying that the blood from the other unicorns might not be enough. This one looked perfect. And if it still wasn't sufficient, drinking this unicorn's blood would restore Quirrell's body considerably. Before the curse flared again, he could easily kill a few more unicorns to replenish it.
With that thought, Voldemort accelerated again, his target now fixed firmly on the unicorn leader.
The sudden burst of speed startled the unicorn. Voldemort's unwavering killing intent sent a chill straight through it.
It immediately sped up, veering sideways toward the Botanical Garden.
No matter how terrifying the monster behind it was, the unicorn believed with absolute certainty that the garden would protect its life and the lives of its herd.
The two beings, both running desperately for survival, drew closer and closer to the Botanical Garden. Every tree they passed, every blade of grass crushed beneath their hooves and limbs, transmitted the scene to Leonard's eyes thousands of meters away.
"This form of Voldemort is certainly new," Leonard muttered, watching the monster-like figure with keen interest.
Running on all fours, moving like something out of a nightmare. If circumstances allowed, Leonard really would have liked to record this.
Two different faces shared the same head. One twisted with bloodthirsty excitement, the other screaming in agony. Its warped limbs jerked and flailed unnaturally, forming a grotesque chimera.
Add some eerie music, and it would look exactly like a horror movie boss.
"But will the unicorn make it in time? At this speed, it's about to be caught," Leonard worried silently, his focus fixed on the unicorn leader.
From what he could see, the Voldemort–Quirrell chimera was still some distance away. But Leonard noticed Voldemort had already drawn Quirrell's wand, aiming it directly at the unicorn leader.
The unicorn had reached the outer edge of the Botanical Garden. The thorn-covered wall was right in front of it.
And the distance between it and Voldemort was already more than enough for magic.
Worse still, the one casting the spell was Voldemort himself. A master of dark magic. Someone of that level wouldn't miss.
As expected, when the distance was just right, Voldemort flashed a cruel smile and shouted loudly,
"Avada Kedavra!"
With his skill, silent casting would have been effortless. Yet he deliberately let out a shrill, chilling cry, as if savoring the theatrics of it.
Leonard's heart tightened as he stared at the scene, watching the unicorn leader chased by the deadly green light.
At this point, it was already too late for him to intervene. Even ordering Chomping Cabbage to block the spell wouldn't help. There simply wasn't enough time or distance.
More importantly, Leonard didn't want to engage Voldemort before he entered the Botanical Garden. Doing so might give him a chance to escape.
A sacrifice seemed inevitable.
Yet both Leonard and Voldemort had underestimated the unicorn leader.
Sensing the lethal attack from behind, the unicorn suddenly veered sharply to the left, narrowly dodging what should have been a guaranteed Killing Curse.
The spell slammed into a thorn-covered wall, bursting uselessly against the lifeless barrier.
A wall of thorns?
Voldemort immediately sensed something wrong. He skidded to a halt, stopping just short of the razor-sharp thorns.
Staring at the spikes that had nearly pierced his eye, Voldemort let out a breath.
Just a little more, and he would have been tricked by a unicorn.
Rage boiled in his chest as he looked toward the unicorn leader.
But by then, the leader had already slipped through a gap in the wall and was charging deeper into the Botanical Garden, without slowing for even a moment.
Inside the enclosure, Voldemort noticed that more than one unicorn was already gathered there.
Seeing the unicorns' traces and the surrounding thorn walls, a cautious expression spread across Voldemort's face.
For reasons he couldn't quite explain, a sense of ominous foreboding crept into his mind.