Voldemort felt he had seen through all the truths—
Rebirth? A caring mother? A gentle stepfather...?
All nonsense!
...These are probably... no, can be sure, absolutely all the tricks played by this man in front of him! Confundus Charm? Draught of the Living Death? A wrongly concocted Enchantment Potion? Although he couldn't confirm what means had infiltrated his subconscious, this "Great Dark Lord" still believed he had uncovered the truth—
Now, he just needed to figure out...
"...Who are you?"
"What's up, Little Tom, don't you recognize daddy?"
William chuckled, his tone teasing and casual, "... I even held you when you were little."
"Go to hell!!!"
Voldemort suddenly decided not to figure things out anymore, he waved his hand, and the corridor in front of him began to twist, countless pitch-black serpents with red tongues slithering out from the twisted gaps in the ceiling and walls. They raised their bodies, preparing to pounce on the gray figure outside the corridor—
"Hiss—"
William didn't move, only recalling the skills in his memory, mimicking the pronunciation.
"Hiss hiss!!"
The snakes hissed and turned their bodies, instantly drowning Voldemort, who also tried but failed to control them with Parseltongue. Before the serpents could bite his neck, the man's magic wand in hand gave a slight shake, and an invisible whirlwind instantly scattered the surrounding serpents, transforming into black mist swirling around the man—
"...You can speak Parseltongue too? Are you from the Gaunt Clan?"
"I just told you to call me daddy, why is this kid so stubborn?"
The contemplation in Voldemort's pupils vanished completely, to hell with Gaunt or Gant, this person must die!
He waved his magic wand, and the black smoke started to converge. A black giant bear appeared before Voldemort. After realizing the opponent also spoke Parseltongue, the Transfiguration Technique's target form was best kept away from those "spicy sticks."
The giant bear's pupils flickered with a cruel red light, roaring as it charged at William, raising its forelimbs to slam down hard on William's forehead—
William did not dodge or evade, not even drawing out his magic wand, fully displaying the "poser" nature. Just before the bear's paw was about to hit his face, he finally ducked lower, his clenched right fist glowing with temporarily inscribed Runes—this Rune pattern signified the strength of a wild ox.
And William barely drew fifty-nine layers.
"Bang—"
The strength of fifty-nine wild oxen converged at one point, causing the Black Bear Spirit's head to slam directly into its belly after its face was struck, its heavy and fat body spun back to land in front of Voldemort. Witnessing this scene, William couldn't help but widen his eyes—thank goodness he hadn't used this move when beating up Fudge...
Otherwise, bursting his head directly would not have ended up nicely.
"..."
Voldemort waved his hand to end the summoning of the Black Bear Spirit. He stared curiously at the faint glow on William's palm—but he wasn't going to ask anymore, because the man knew the answer would likely have nothing to do with the question. So, Voldemort raised his magic wand again—"Avada Kedavra!"
The vicious spell resounded, the green curse shot forth, and William also swung his magic wand, meeting Voldemort's Killing Curse with equally miserable green lightning, the dazzling electric light forming a link between the tips of the two wands, emitting an aura of death like that of hell from the point of spell collision.
Voldemort kept tugging at his wand, seemingly attempting to maneuver his spell past William's block, but no matter how he adjusted, it was stuck to William like glue. Thus, Voldemort's already pale face grew more unsightly, watching the slowly approaching curse with a tightened expression—
"Pfft—"
The miserable green lightning pierced through the pitch-black corridor, ultimately only striking a wisp of black smoke as Voldemort's figure spun and vanished from the spot.
William didn't pause, a bright silver shield appeared beside him in an instant, and the next moment, a whip of flame struck down hard upon the silver shield, which emitted a low gong-like vibration—just hearing that piercing sound was chilling.
The silver shield didn't seem damaged by the hit, but in the next moment, it fell to the ground like liquid, transforming into a nearly two-meter-tall silver figure, its sudden activation of blue complex patterns dazzling, the silver sword in its hand glowing brightly as it swung towards the figure appearing behind William—
Voldemort raised his magic wand, and the original flame whip solidified into a longsword, deftly deflecting the figure's attack with the fire sword, then quickly flicked his wand again, the miserable green light brushing past William's nose, raising every single hair on the boy's head on end.
The silver figure promptly reacted, changing the downward chop to a slash, aiming at Voldemort's waist.
But the moment the sword light made contact, Voldemort's figure spun and disappeared again, not appearing again, leaving only dust and tranquil moonlight in the corridor.
"...You cannot kill me."
Voldemort's voice sounded near and far, as William walked to the corridor's window, gazing at Voldemort's gigantic figure appearing in the sky, his polished bald head replacing the moon's position, glaring fixedly at William with blood-red eyes, followed by a voice sounding frenzied—
"No matter who you are! You should not have pulled me into the subconscious, because here, I am immortal! I am the God!!"
As the man's words fell, the glowing bald head vanished, blackness instantly shrouding the entire world—
"... Such classic teenage angst." William remained silent for a moment, then lightly waved his hand, "Moreover, I'm the GM."
…Tsk, I seem quite like a dramatic teenager too.
"Crack—"
The sound of shattering glass seemed to echo in the sky, Voldemort's screams reached William's ears, the boy bent down, raised his leg, tightened his abdomen—a series of fluid movements all for the last kick that landed hard on Voldemort's face, sending the man flying directly like a rag doll, rolling two or three times on the dark ground.
The old Gaunt house had disappeared, replaced by this space that, although dark, was still visible.
"Crucio."
Realizing Voldemort seemed to want to get up, William sent another Crucio spell with a backhand motion, making Voldemort scream and roll over again.
Voldemort seems to have very low resistance to the Crucio curse… maybe it's because he hasn't experienced it much.
No worries, William gently stroked Voldemort's bald head, with a hint of pity on his face—poor child, having lived over seventy years and never experienced these good things, don't worry, I'll feed you every day from now on.
Then William waved his hand again, directly breaking through the dark world overhead, squinting his eyes to adjust to the light of the real world.
Next, he turned his head to look around—Fudge had already fainted neatly, the slight movement of his bulging belly indicated that he was still alive; the fat woman whose body was taken over by Voldemort also remained unconscious, but the blood flowing from her nose had soaked her clothing in the front; and Lucius, who also seemed to have fainted…
Wait a minute, William frowned, looking incredulously at Lucius, stunned for a moment.
This guy… fell asleep? How big-hearted one must be?
…
Watching Lucius, who seemed to start talking in his sleep, William thoughtfully decided not to wake him up.
Instead, he focused on the woman in front of him—this "adventure" wasn't without gain, though the plan failed, it was merely the "training" of Voldemort and the incidental attempt to cultivate a heart demon in him that collapsed along the way…
Wait a minute, if he really cultivated a kind-hearted personality named Little Tom for Voldemort, who then would ultimately be whose heart demon between the two?
Hiss... a conjugate heart demon?
Too uncanny, but although that somewhat abstract plan failed, William still achieved the goal he wanted to find when he "launched Infinite Moon Reading," which was the reason the other party, although pierced through the heart by Gryffindor's Sword, seemed entirely uninjured.
Watching the slight trembling of the woman's eyelids, William extended his hand to grab, blue light flashing, and then his hand, as if immaterial, directly penetrated the woman's skull, after a mentally sanity-reducing search, William quickly withdrew his hand, at the same time, a ball of black mist began to bounce in his palm—
"Oh dear, it's in such bad shape already?"
Looking at the faint image of Voldemort emerging in the black mist, William chuckled, then casually picked up a glass on the table, enchanted it with magic before directly covering the black smoke trying to escape his grip, the table which was shattered by the Killing Curse had also been restored by him.
"Clang—"
The bouncing black smoke hit the glass wall, emitting a clear sound.
Do you like it? Being good is a good start.
"Snap—"
Reaching out to steady the slightly shaking cup, William couldn't help but chuckle, originally having received Lucius's distress signal and coming to see the situation, he really hadn't anticipated upon arrival, that there would be such an unexpected gain this time—
Successfully capturing a wild Voldemort, probably making Dumbledore see it would drop his jaw all the way to the Slytherin Dungeon.
But just as William lifted his wrist to check his watch, planning to kick Lucius awake and account for a few things, a fierce monster wind suddenly blew in from the center of the dining hall, the unexpected change made William frown involuntarily, he waved his wand, a light blue shield suddenly enveloping himself, the table, and the two people on the ground together on the spot—
And then in the next moment, countless curses shot from the windows in every direction, "Boom boom boom—" under the dual bombardment of the Confringo and Deprim, William only felt his form abruptly starting to fall, blinking just a few times, he had already fallen from the third-floor dining hall of the Malfoy house, into the first-floor living room—
"...Uh?"
The rumbling sounds, like the end of the world, finally awakened Lucius from his dream of getting rich. The man lay on the ground, looking at William before him, then glanced at the vaguely familiar ruins around, his gaze ultimately resting on those black-robed Wizards riding Broomsticks in the sky—
"…"
"…?"
Lucius laid back down and silently recited in his heart—I must still be dreaming.
The dust stirred up by the explosion finally settled down slowly, William also raised his head, staring at those flying figures in the sky, watching one of them seemingly prepare to fly forward to communicate, William instead smiled rather than being angry, raising his magic wand—
"Avada Kedavra!"
The green electric light gushed from the tip of the wand like a scattering goddess, hitting the majority of the black shadows in the sky like lightning.
"Plop plop…"
More than twenty dark figures fell to the ground like dumplings, the black smoke covered by the glass on the table also gradually stopped bouncing.
?