"...It's right here."
Looking at the rhythmic white cloud formation in front of him, and then at the unwavering compass needle in his hand, William took a deep breath, then swiftly plunged into the cloud. Countless chaotic memories flickered in the white mist, and William lost interest after just a glance—
That seemed to be Voldemort's "authentic" childhood experiences, like being bullied and then bullying others once he gained power...
An extremely cliched template of a villain's childhood trauma and lack of love... Boring.
William had no intention of forgiving Voldemort on behalf of the victims; that's God's job. His task was to send Voldemort to meet God.
If he could completely push this bastard out of the illusory realm, could he ignore the existence of the Horcrux and kill him directly?
While pondering a strategy in his mind, soon, William's sight was filled with a white Hogwarts Castle, but the castle seemed incomplete, almost half of it was covered by mist. So, he picked a direction, dived in hard, and then fell out of a fireplace—
"...Die, Potter!"
"?"
Seeing Voldemort already waving his wand to attack Harry, William instinctively raised his wand, sending out a Killing Curse, but Voldemort, turning into a mist like an old man, evaded it effortlessly, and at this moment, the storyline finally returned to the "right track"—
"...Let me think."
Looking at the little Tom kneeling beside Harry, William couldn't help but frown—the latter referred to him as 'teacher,' which was quite obvious what it meant. So, did his plan to cultivate a heart demon for Voldemort actually succeed to some extent?
Hiss... I'm a genius!!!
William's gaze moved back and forth between Voldemort and little Voldemort, the smile on his face growing more wicked... ahem, it was a smile representing justice. He suddenly didn't want to just kill Voldemort right away, somehow feeling that keeping him around would bring more fun later—
"...Who exactly are you?"
The gaze from William sent shivers down Voldemort's spine, and even his toes curled involuntarily under the black cloak. He frowned, just about to speak when he finally realized, he didn't even know William's identity until now, only knowing his name was Richard William—
And the soul from the diary Horcrux he swallowed, he hadn't fully digested the other's memories—
In fact, not to mention digesting, because William had tormented him for so long before, and even tore another piece from his already incomplete main soul to form little Tom. Due to various factors, upon entering the illusory realm, Voldemort's main soul had even become the weakest among the many souls.
If not for the main soul living the longest and successfully setting traps using experience to ensnare that diary Voldemort, it might have been him getting swallowed by now—
Those souls hidden in the Hogwarts Academy's artifacts could not seem to possess definite consciousness due to some reason, and finally, only the diary Voldemort was struggling with the main Voldemort. Moreover, unexpectedly to Voldemort, that sixteen-year-old version of himself had somehow learned a bunch of new random things, and when trapped, the other side's endless tricks nearly forced his plan to fail—
Luckily, he still had fortune on his side.
Then, while focused on "digesting" that diary Voldemort and figuring out a way to leave that bizarre place, his spell tied to the name Voldemort was suddenly triggered repeatedly by someone. Then, under the guidance of the magic, he really caught a little mouse darting into the castle—
He even managed to get hold of it, along with his eight-year-old self, whom he had only been able to grasp fleetingly all those days.
Killing two birds with one stone, accomplishing two goals at once, even though his vocabulary wasn't rich enough, this couldn't conceal his immense joy. But just when he was ready to have some fun with this famous Savior, the other party cursed at him rather vulgarly.
Voldemort couldn't tolerate it. Anyway, even if he wanted to prove himself now, there were no spectators, so he planned to just kill this bug—
Unexpectedly, someone again timed perfectly to rescue him!
Voldemort's rage towards William standing in the center of the hall was almost tangible. If looks could kill, William would've been sliced and diced innumerable times by now. Seeing Voldemort's hatred-filled glare, William paused his eye communication with Harry.
"Tom, just saying, if we duel again, it'll be three full matches today. If we count it as a best of three, I've already won. Why don't you just surrender?"
"Go to hell!"
Voldemort didn't intend to ask anymore; he realized that this man before him always managed to pluck the string in his brain that solely resonated with anger accuratel. Damned indeed!!
Thus, the blinding green light flashed again, and William sidestepped to dodge the incoming Killing Curse. Although curious about what effect a Killing Curse might have in the illusory realm, it was wiser to avoid such ominous things; if experimenting, the sample should be the enemy—
So, while dodging, William also began frantically throwing Killing Curses. In an instant, between William and Voldemort, the glaring green lightnings flew back and forth, and Harry could only use the Summoning Charm to pull down the hall's door plate, blocking it in front of himself and little Tom.
Peeking out from behind the door plate, watching the two exchanging spells and throwing charms, seemingly too busy to take care of him, Harry suddenly felt an eagerness as he clutched his wand tightly, his gaze fixed unwaveringly on Voldemort in the near distance—
...
Why?!
Why can't I still win?!
Seeing William continue to move agilely and relaxedly even under his spell attack, Voldemort let out a roar of impotent rage, he thought the gap between himself and William was minimal, as both previous times, it seemed he lost merely by a hair's breadth, everything should've been due to his own strategies failing—
Why, in this spell duel with him, I still can't match him?!
Voldemort remembered clearly that he absorbed his former sixteen-year-old self, and in theory, his power should be stronger than before. Why can William still inexplicably overpower him?
I couldn't beat you before I was strengthened, and still can't beat you after, does that mean my strengthening was in vain?
Watching William, who was at ease amidst the green web woven by the Killing Curse, Voldemort finally couldn't hold back his inner rage. He swung his magic wand forcefully, and in an instant, countless demons of various forms crawled out from the frames of paintings in the corridors surrounding the castle. They swung long knives in their hands, rushing toward William—
"Boom—"
Seeing the gray stone demon in front of him, William hesitated for a moment, pulled a Golden Desert Eagle from his pocket, pressed the trigger against the bewildered demon's forehead, and with a loud bang, the stone demon instantly turned to dust.
"Head shot! (爆头)"
Indeed, this thing is much more effective in this situation than a magic wand—
William didn't continue using the Killing Curse; instead, he reached into his pants and pulled out an AK47, pulling the trigger and began firing at the demons and Voldemort—
Now, he's the only one who clearly understands that this is the Illusory Realm, and the characteristic of this realm is achieving some degree of wish fulfillment. Although, normally, this ability is only possessed by the protagonist of the realm, but apparently—
That's really just a typical situation because, generally, the Illusory Realm should only have one protagonist.
Voldemort is an exception; logically, he should only touch this place once all of his Soul Artifacts are destroyed, but for some reason, he was sent here prematurely, even dragging along his family, bringing his pile of Soul Artifacts along with Harry into the realm—
It's simply unprecedented, never to be followed.
And now, watching Voldemort jump around from his shooting, William couldn't help but show a heartfelt smile.
"Hahahahahaha—"
Damn! So satisfying!
But soon, Voldemort seized an opportunity during his shooting transfer, quickly landing on the ground in the form of black mist, smashing his magic wand onto the ground, sending a seismic wave toward William's feet. Unsteady, William put away the rifle and likewise smashed his wand down—
"Piertotum Locomotor! (石礅出动)"
"Boom—"
The statues and armors originally positioned on the ceiling and corridor corners began to move, heavy statues fell quickly to the ground. William waved his wand continuously, blue patterns shooting out from the tip of his wand, attaching to those sluggish statues and armors, increasing their speed by more than double—
"Confringo! (霹雳爆炸)"
Before Voldemort could react, a statue appeared behind him, raising its spear high, aiming at Voldemort's back. The man quickly turned and cast a charm that shattered the statue, but then countless statues began to gather toward him—
Thus, Voldemort could only continuously cast charms, barely holding a circle less than three meters in diameter around himself.
Wide-range charms were useless; those statues, strengthened by blue patterns, could only have their upper half blown away even by his full-force Blasting Curse. Furthermore, many statues grew wings in the air, waiting for Voldemort to fall into the trap.
And in such circumstances, as time slowly passed, the look in Voldemort's eyes began to reveal a numb expression—
"Clang—"
Suddenly, the sound of metal clashing rang out from Voldemort's chest. Seeing William slowly appearing in front of him with a slightly confused expression, Voldemort, who blocked the strike, suddenly began to laugh maniacally, "You think you can use the same trick to defeat me again—"
"Squelch—"
The silver long sword pierced through Voldemort's back, leaving only a plume of black smoke.
"?"
"Hehe, that worked, didn't it?"
William's laughter emerged behind Voldemort, while the 'William' who was standing in front of Voldemort turned into a statue holding a stone sword.
"You..."
A trace of resolve flickered in Voldemort's eyes; his gaze became dazed, and his pale face regained a rosy hue, black hair sprouted on his previously bare head, quickly growing to a length that William found somewhat familiar—the sixteen-year-old Tom from the diary.
Just by looking at the back, William could identify him.
In the next moment, a plume of black mist arose from the diary, re-coagulating in mid-air. Holding his wand, with a sinister smile on his face, he looked down at William, who had no time to dodge, and unhesitatingly swung his wand—
"Expelliarmus! (除你武器)"
Red light shot in from outside the pile of statues, striking the airborne diary perfectly.
Instinctively reaching out to catch the wand falling in front of him, Harry's hand holding the wand trembled slightly. And in mid-air, wandless and having his spell interrupted, the diary instinctively looked back, the flying stone statues already raised their Wolf Fang Clubs in hand...