"Is that something someone once said to you, and now you are just repeating it to me?" Wade asked suspiciously.
"Nonsense!" Slytherin retorted immediately.
"Tsk tsk. Then it seems you really did take that person's words to heart," Wade said with a sigh.
"I already told you, that is nonsense!" Slytherin denied it outright.
"All right, let us drop that. Do you have a way to completely split her soul?" Wade asked.
"I do not," Slytherin shook his head, then stared straight at Wade. "But you do. Since you can harm and restrain ghosts, and even make them sign contracts, splitting a soul should be a simple matter for you. That said, I do not understand your kind of magic. On this point, you will have to figure it out yourself."
Wade nodded and began to think carefully about how to use nightmare magic to split a soul.
At this moment, Nagini was so excited she could barely contain herself.
She had heard everything the two of them discussed. If she could regain a human body…
Even if it required a tremendous price, even if the restored human form were only temporary, she was willing.
…
Riddle Manor.
The flames in the fireplace crackled softly.
Tom sat quietly in a lounge chair before the hearth, staring blankly at the fire.
Two full days had passed, yet the scene of Wade Reynolds brutally slaughtering the basilisk kept replaying in Tom's mind over and over again.
What had happened that day had shaken him to the core.
Whether it was the sheer terror of the basilisk, or the overwhelming combat strength Wade had displayed…
When Tom thought back to all the little schemes he had previously played against Wade, cold sweat could not help but break out across his back.
How had he dared? How had he dared to play tricks on someone that terrifying?
The past two days had been spent in a constant state of lingering fear and shock. It was only today that Tom had finally managed to steady himself a little.
Once he calmed down, his thoughts became clear again.
The fact that Wade had dealt with all of Tom's petty machinations using nothing more than mild punishment showed one thing clearly.
Wade did indeed have a use for him. But that need was not absolute. He had to recognize this clearly.
In other words, as long as he did not cross Wade's bottom line, Wade could be a trusted ally.
But if he ever lost his sense of proportion and stepped over that line…
That man would not be nearly so easy to deal with.
But looked at another way, since Wade Reynolds was so powerful, being regarded by him as a trusted friend, even if only for the time being, was itself a tremendous opportunity.
In truth, this had always been Tom's great opportunity. It was only because he had previously seen Wade as a rival that he had failed to recognize it.
Now, however, Tom had finally woken up.
The more he thought about it, the brighter his eyes became.
With people like Dumbledore and Wade guiding him, if he still could not rise, then he might as well hang himself.
If he worked hard, even if he ultimately could not match Wade, he could at least become the strongest beneath him.
Having thought it through, Tom shook off his despondency and regained his vigor.
From today onward… lie low and develop steadily. Do not act recklessly.
With that, Tom grabbed his wand and ran out of the warm house.
Standing in the snow, images of the spells Wade had casually used that day flashed through Tom's mind.
He then mimicked Wade's movements, swinging his wand sharply upward in a sudden arc.
That was exactly how Wade had conjured a thick wall of ice back then, blocking the basilisk's attack.
Whoosh!
The wand let out a faint whistling sound as it cut through the air, but aside from blowing the falling snow aside in front of him, nothing happened.
Tom rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "How did he do it? Was it the Freezing Charm? But the Freezing Charm does not have that kind of power… Could it be that his magic is simply so strong that even a Freezing Charm becomes that powerful? That does not seem right either… Then did he create some new spell?"
"I can tell you very clearly, there is no new spell," a familiar voice came from the woods.
Tom turned around and saw Wade Reynolds walking out, looking relaxed and cheerful.
"Then how did you do it?" Tom asked bluntly.
"Have you forgotten what I told you before? Magic is guided by intent. Why cling so tightly to incantations? Spells are just a convenience. In real combat, attacks born directly from one's will are the fastest and the hardest to defend against."
As Wade spoke, he casually waved his wand.
A solid wall of ice suddenly rose from the ground. Then the ice wall began to deform violently, and in the end, a fully armored frost knight appeared before Tom.
The knight swung the ice sword in its hand, spurred the ice steed beneath it, and charged forward in a sudden rush.
Bang!
The wooden target ahead was instantly cleaved cleanly in half at the waist.
Wade Reynolds flicked his wand once more, and the frost knight instantly dissolved into a flurry of snow, drifting down lightly onto the snowy ground.
If not for the smooth cut left behind and the hoofprints in the snow, Tom would hardly have believed what he had just seen was real.
"Can you tell what spell I used just now?" Wade asked.
Tom shook his head blankly.
"In truth, it was nothing more than a bit of imagination, combined with some Transfiguration," Wade said.
Tom's eyes widened, his lips silently repeating Wade's words, "…magic is guided by intent… imagination…"
Suddenly, Tom lifted his head and swung his wand at the half-destroyed wooden target ahead.
Crack! Crack!
A dense cluster of ice spikes erupted from the ground. They surged beneath the wooden target and instantly skewered it like a hedgehog.
Wade began to clap. "A very good spell. Then let me ask you, what is the incantation for that spell?"
"There is no incantation," Tom replied, repeating Wade's words. "It is just some imagination, combined with some Transfiguration."
"It seems you truly understand what I meant," Wade said with a smile.
At the same time, Wade Reynolds used a Whispering Charm to speak to the Slytherin ghost hidden inside his pocket. "Look. This is one of your descendants. Half of his blood comes from Muggles, but tell me, is his talent really as poor as you imagine?"
Slytherin silently watched Tom before him, his emotions extremely complicated.
After hearing just a few words from Wade, he had already grasped the essence of magic. Was this what one called poor talent?
To be blunt, even if he were sent back more than a thousand years, Slytherin had never seen a student with talent like this.
Even that student he had once thought highly of, the one named Barrow, was far inferior to Tom.
Of course, that excluded someone like Wade, who possessed the power of an ancient Sage.
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