Holding the green, crooked Cedar wand in his hand...
In an instant, the whole world seemed to change.
His mind became sharper.
The absent-minded behavior from before—like practicing with classroom furniture and just throwing it back without cleaning up—probably wouldn't happen again.
His thoughts became more organized.
Details in his peripheral vision were absorbed into his mind effortlessly.
A stream of information flooded his brain.
True Damage meant ignoring armor and Magic Resistance to deal damage directly.
50% meant that half of the damage from his spells or [Basic Attacks] would be True Damage.
"Enemies hit cannot lie" meant that until the spell effect from this wand was dispelled, the target would be unable to lie, as if under the influence of Veritaserum.
His data panel updated accordingly.
[ID: 000000001]
Magic Book Level: 3 (1100/100 EXP)
Name: Ryan Smith / Basil Granger
Race: Wizard
Identity: Hogwarts Gryffindor (Fire Spell Effect +1%), 1st Year (Daily Gems: 20)
Enrollment Date: 1991/07/27
Health: 10 + 15 (Echo Bonus: 1000 | False Health: 142,341)
Magic: 7 + 9
Luck: 3 ~ 7
Family Traits: True Sight (Permanent), Red Dragon Blood (Pending Ignition), Plant Affinity (Awakened), Potions Mastery (Awakened)
This [True Sight] was the manifestation of the ability to perceive truth.
"Sight" here didn't just refer to vision, but the sum of all sensory capabilities—sight, hearing, touch, taste, smell, etc.
While his perception (Insight) increased by 10%, his ability to distinguish lies received a specialized enhancement.
He could tell if a man speaking a mile away through a telescope was telling the truth.
He could judge if someone was lying by tasting their sweat or smelling their scent while they spoke.
He could determine the sincerity of a person's words simply by touching less than an inch of their skin.
Compared to this, sensing Voldemort's attention was nothing special.
However, unfortunately, one thing differed from Basil's imagination.
He did indeed have a second bar of 'System Mana,' crystal clear and radiating rationality.
It overlapped with his original 'System Mana,' which was filled with majesty and heat.
But they only coexisted conceptually.
The 'System Mana' flowing in his body didn't double with the appearance of the second [Wand Skin] component.
Aside from an extra Talent and some special abilities, there were no other changes.
The so-called True Damage wasn't much better than a regular Jinx when dealing with ordinary wizards who had frail bodies (low Physical Defense) and no Mental Power infusing their Magic Fields.
At most, it offered more variety.
Ordinary spells without infused Intent could now be used like Advanced Spells or Jinxes.
It would only be truly effective against magical creatures with high Physical and Magical Defense, or elite wizards who mastered infusing Mental Power into their Magic Fields.
---
"The Bermuda Triangle is the area where the Earth's magical magnetic field is most exaggeratedly chaotic. Even the Black Forest in Albania..."
On the other side, under Voldemort's command, Quirrell, who was lecturing with his back to the students, suddenly stiffened and stuttered.
Why does the Master want me to contact this brat?
Quirrell didn't dare to think too much. He turned around abruptly and changed the subject stiffly.
"Mr. Granger, come to my office after class. I found the answer to your question from last time."
Basil nodded.
Hook, line, and sinker!
The little figure in his heart waved a fist excitedly.
In the Defense Against the Dark Arts office on the third floor, Quirrell stood with his back to Basil.
Quirrell removed his turban, revealing a surprisingly small, bald head.
On the back of this bald head was a face.
Chalk-white, with glowing red eyes and slits for nostrils, like a snake.
Opposite him, Basil took out a battered black diary from his schoolbag.
At the same time, his blue eyes lost focus.
A voice resonated from the book.
Basil's mouth moved in sync with it. His voice, usually clear and clean, now sounded exceptionally eerie.
"Long time no see, Voldemort. My so-called Main Body. Shameful loser."
"Loser?" The face let out a raspy, cold laugh. "Discarded residue... a brat longing for fatherly love... a fragment of the lowly Riddle. Who gave you the courage to mock Me—the purest heir to the great Slytherin bloodline, the one who was a step away from becoming the King of Wizards?"
"King of Wizards?" Two cold laughs overlapped. "Oh? Who is under that smelly turban? I thought it was some petty thug."
"Enough!" The face shouted sharply. "State your purpose! You must understand, you are merely the most insignificant of my five safeguards!" (Nagini wasn't a Horcrux yet, and Voldemort didn't know Harry was one).
The Diary mocked, "Your 'loyal' servant sent me to Hogwarts. He wants me to kill this boy. To cover up the fact that the so-called Malfoy family is now just a toothless tiger. To tell other families that even if the Malfoys lost their Board seat and had shops seized, they are still not to be trifled with."
The red eyes on the face narrowed tight, emotion unreadable. "Sent 'me'? It seems they really don't think I will rise again?"
The face began asking and answering itself. The Diary stayed silent at the right time.
He used "they" to refer to all the Death Eaters, including Malfoy, who slipped back among his enemies after his fall, claiming they were innocent, ignorant, or under the Imperius Curse.
"Did they not know that I had taken steps long ago to guard against mortal death? Did they not see how I proved, countless times, that my power was limitless, greater than any wizard?"
"I answer myself: perhaps they believed a greater power existed that could vanquish Voldemort... perhaps they have now pledged allegiance to another... maybe even that champion of commoners, that protector of Mudbloods and Muggles, Albus Dumbledore?"
"But clearly not. They do not fear Dumbledore. They simply believe I cannot rise again!"
Both Quirrell (controlled by the face) and Basil ('controlled' by the Diary) began to tremble in unison, shaking with rage.
"Master, calm your anger!" Quirrell begged repeatedly.
"Shut up!" (x3)
The face continued, "Therefore, I believe... aside from my friends suffering in Azkaban, the other traitors who call themselves my servants must pay a profound price. The tree of Death Eaters has too many rotten branches. It needs pruning."
He turned his head (as much as he could) to look at the Diary.
Seeming to imply something.
"So we also need fresh blood. This boy you possess is one of them."
The Diary, along with the "controlled" boy, raised its head. "This is also a servant I value. In fact, I came to find you... hoping you could find a way to send me out. A truly safe channel. Not as crude as Lucius Malfoy—suppressing me with a cover woven from Unicorn tail hair and tossing me into this boy's arms via an owl."
"Safe? Hogwarts is the safest place. If you want safety, you should stay far away from me." The face said this first, then pointed the Alder wand at the other side of the head.
A flash of red light, and Quirrell lost consciousness.
---