— — — — — —
Nicolas took the ruby, gave it a quick glance, and slipped it away.
"Are you sure what those goblins said was true?"
Tom nodded. "I used Legilimency on them at the time. After that I went back, grabbed a few more goblins, and fed them Veritaserum. Same answer every time. They all said it was Tear of Isis."
"So it must be true... unless their ancestors lied to them."
The old man fell silent for a moment. "About the Fountain of Fair Fortune… I've actually heard it."
"Huh?"
Tom straightened up. "Then why didn't you tell me earlier?"
"Because I didn't believe it was real," Nicolas said, shaking his head. "Do you know Enzo?"
"Enzo… Enzo Avada?" Tom thought for a moment. "What does he have to do with the Fountain of Fair Fortune?"
Just hearing the surname told you who he was. The creator of the Killing Curse. The man himself wasn't famous in his own time, but the spell he invented would be passed down for countless generations.
"Yes. That Enzo," Nicolas said softly. "Someone once researched his life. Early on, he was completely ordinary. No special talent, nothing that stood out."
"But after he disappeared at the age of thirty-three, he reappeared twenty years later. He looked exactly the same, yet his magical power had increased severalfold. He challenged duel after duel and never lost. The Killing Curse became his signature spell, the unblockable Avada Kedavra."
"One of his close friends once said that Enzo found the island where the Fountain of Fair Fortune was located. He stayed there for more than half a month. After that, he became what he was."
"Half a month?" Tom raised an eyebrow. "So the implication is that time on that island works differently from the outside world?"
"According to that story, yes. But there are far too many stories like that in the wizarding world. The credibility is… maybe 20% at best."
"I only remembered it because of Enzo Avada himself. The place where he vanished was Egypt."
"So the Island of Fortune is in Egypt, or somewhere nearby in the Mediterranean?"
Tom instinctively looked at Nicolas.
The old man immediately shook his head. "Don't even think about dragging this old man out to sea to help you hunt for some island. If you're really interested, go catch Voldemort."
Tom nodded.
Right. Voldemort was the closest person to the truth. He knew the Fountain of Fair Fortune and Tear of Isis were in Gringotts' possession, and he also knew what they were for and how to use them.
Catch him, and everything would become clear.
Tom smacked his forehead in frustration. "If I'd known, I wouldn't have hit so hard. I should've captured him and taken my time."
Nicolas couldn't help laughing. "That's what you get for being so murder-happy. You're always jumping straight to killing people."
"I just wanted to solve the problem once and for all," the boy sighed. He stood up from the rock and dusted himself off. "I'm done thinking about it. You take your time researching. Let me know if you find anything."
"Don't get your hopes up. I'm not exactly confident."
"Whatever. Fate will do its thing."
---
Late at night, Tom let his consciousness sink into the study space.
After slacking off for a whole month, it was time to get serious again.
"I'm back!"
His voice boomed through the entire space. Even Grindelwald, who hadn't entered yet, felt the call. He set down his codex and closed his eyes.
"Tom! You're finally back!"
Ariana was the first to appear. She Apparated nearby and then fluttered over like a butterfly. Tom opened his arms and caught her securely.
"Milord!"
Jeanne appeared as well. The Maid of Orléans looked tired, but her eyes were still bright. When she realized Ariana had beaten her to him, her expression dimmed for just a moment before quickly recovering.
"Jeanne, have you been working hard lately?" Tom freed one hand and rested it on the saint's head. He didn't notice anything different about her.
Not just Tom. Even Ariana was starting to doubt whether her method had worked at all. Ever since that conversation, Jeanne hadn't changed in the slightest. She still prayed on schedule every day, unwavering, her devotion so sincere it would put any nun or priest to shame.
Jeanne nodded earnestly. "I've finished mastering the fourth-year textbooks and have started on fifth year."
Tom praised her. "Good. You look full of energy. In a couple of days I'll give you a test. If you do well, you'll get a reward."
Only then did Andros and Grindelwald arrive together.
Andros asked with a grin, "Tom, how was your break? You stayed away from the space for so long, I almost couldn't get used to it."
"I was afraid someone would grab me and turn me into a lab rat," Tom said. "A vacation is a vacation. Might as well take it properly."
He could clearly sense a certain big witch arriving, yet he still chose to flirt with death.
"Heh…"
A soft, unreadable chuckle drifted over. Ravenclaw suddenly emerged, smiling gently. The words she spoke, however, sent a chill down Tom's spine.
"So I do have some deterrent value after all. But how does that saying go? You can dodge it for a while, but you can't dodge it forever. I've been stockpiling inspiration lately. You're not getting away."
Tom's expression twitched, but he immediately latched onto a new excuse. "I need to start preparing for my trial mission. No time lately. Next time for sure. Definitely next time."
Grindelwald stepped in to rescue him. "Since your vacation's over, why don't you tell us what happened in Egypt? I asked Albus, but that old bastard wouldn't say a word."
Tom gave them a quick rundown of the events. He wanted their opinions anyway. Maybe one of them knew something about those two artifacts.
"Rowena, didn't you always say the world doesn't have gods?" Tom asked.
Ravenclaw shot him a lazy look. "Just because something calls itself a god, does that make it one? It might just be the pinnacle of some magical civilization."
"As for Egyptian civilization, I don't know much. By the time I was active, wizardry there had already declined. I never heard of any famous wizards from Egypt. Maybe it's because the Muggle side was flourishing. Back then, Egypt was one of the richest regions on Earth."
Tom nodded, then turned to Andros. Greece and Egypt had long interacted, and Andros came from an even earlier era.
"I've explored a few magical ruins from the Egyptian civilization," Andros said.
He scratched his head. "As for written records… well, I… ahem… sold all that stuff for wine."
"...."
Tom went silent.
Andros really was a textbook battle maniac. It made sense he had zero interest in research materials.
With nothing gained, Tom didn't dwell on it. He sent Grindelwald a copy of the photo he'd taken of Voldemort. The moment Grindelwald received it, he logged off.
The "reforming" of Barty Jr was nearly complete. Any task he was given, he carried out flawlessly. The only problem was his mouth. Open it and it was "Master," close it and it was "the Dark Lord."
Still, the way he said it had grown increasingly casual. The reverence he once had was almost gone.
That photo might have been the final straw.
Grindelwald didn't care that it was the middle of the night. He forcibly summoned Barty Jr.
"Why are you looking for me this late?" Barty snapped. He'd only just fallen asleep and was clearly in a foul mood.
A piece of parchment flew into his hand. He glanced down, and his pupils shrank.
"Recognize him?" Grindelwald said with a mocking tone. "Your 'master' has fallen this far… no, actually, this is the good version. Because Tom Riddle already blew him apart."
"You know what happened in Egypt, right?"
Barty was sharp. "You mean… my master was the one who robbed Gringotts?"
"That's right." Grindelwald nodded. "Unfortunately, Tom shattered his fantasy, and now he's back to drifting around as a wraith."
"So you're working with that brat?"
Thud!
A crushing pressure slammed down without warning. Barty was forced to his knees. He stared up at Grindelwald in shock, unable to understand what had set him off.
"Show respect to those stronger than you," Grindelwald said coldly. "Brat? What right do you have to call him that? Tom is countless times stronger than your master."
"If he's a brat, then what does that make your master? A dung beetle?"
Grindelwald had originally planned to finish breaking Barty today, but he lost the mood entirely. He waved his hand impatiently. "Get out."
Barty froze.
He could feel the change in Grindelwald's attitude.
Before, Grindelwald wasn't exactly kind, but he'd had patience. He was willing to lecture him, even if those lectures were clearly purposeful.
Now… there was coldness and disgust.
All because of a single word?
Barty didn't understand, but panic rose unbidden in his chest. The comfortable days he'd enjoyed lately had almost made him forget that he was nothing more than a prisoner.
If Grindelwald had treated him badly from the start, it wouldn't have mattered.
But after tasting concern, being thrown back into indifference was a shock Barty couldn't accept.
Seeing Grindelwald frown, clearly about to drive him out again, Barty finally lowered his head.
"I'm sorry. I was wrong."
"Hm?"
Grindelwald paused. That was unexpected.
"I shouldn't have looked down on a wizard stronger than myself," Barty said quietly. "I'll be more careful in the future."
After a long silence, Grindelwald walked over and personally pulled him to his feet.
"Good. Only by admitting your shortcomings can you continue to improve. I look forward to your future performance."
"Now I have a question. If Voldemort appeared before you, would you choose to follow him, or stay by my side?"
Barty didn't answer. His eyes said everything.
---
In the study space—
Tom was dragged away by Ariana under Jeanne's regretful gaze. Back at the villa, Ariana chattered nonstop about everything that had happened recently.
It sounded like a lot, but it was all small stuff. The space wasn't very big. Other than studying or watching TV, there wasn't much to do.
Still, Jeanne's name came up again and again, which made Tom relieved. He'd been worried, but it seemed the two girls were getting along better.
After talking with Ariana for a long while, Tom finally escaped and headed to the Meditation Room.
He'd slacked off this past month, but he'd still been sending out mind clones on a regular schedule, grinding nonstop. Now it was time to see the results.
Recently, three of those clones had been researching methods for surviving in outer space. If things were ready, he planned to complete the tenth trial before the World Cup.
Also, there was the resurrection method that Ariana and Andros kept nagging about. It was time to put it to the test.
With a thought, Tom recalled all of his clones and lifted the memory seals he'd placed earlier.
In an instant, a tidal wave of memories tore through his mind like a raging tsunami.
Tom's eyes rolled back.
Seven clones. A full month of nonstop research.
How much information could that possibly be?
He hadn't known before.
Now he did.
I'm dead. I'm dead. I'm so dead.
Tom felt his brain melting.
.
.
.