"... When did you realize it was me?"
"Moody's" expression remained calm, but his voice was laced with intense caution.
"..."
William blinked, looking at the other person somewhat shocked.
"... What's wrong?"
"Moody" found the gaze unsettling, and after a moment of silence, asked suspiciously.
"No, nothing, I'm just a bit puzzled... alright, so do you really think your 'acting' is that good?"
William asked in a very "tactful" tone.
"..."
The one "inhabiting" the body seemed to take a deep breath before speaking again, "Alright, I have to admit, this time you won, although I have no idea where you found a flaw—"
"Just like I don't know how you managed to control this old Auror."
William continued, pausing, and shrugged as he removed the longsword resting on the other's shoulder, "So, do you have any interest in clearing up my doubts?" William knew that if he ended Moody now, only Moody would die—the other must have cast some spell similar to Imperio before.
However, this charm wasn't as overbearing as Imperio, perhaps only affecting some of his judgments, like—making Moody, who didn't want to follow William into the water, now want to join in.
This meant that the one who was previously disappointed by William's seemingly indifferent attitude was actually Moody himself, which very much fitted his Auror persona.
From the interrogation with Krum, he'd already been pulled into Dream Magic by William, and everything that happened afterward was just a dream—and the mastermind obviously took the bait. William originally thought after he "died," the mastermind would come out to show off.
After all, that's how TV dramas usually go.
Unfortunately, this person was far more cautious than William had expected, dealing every day with mad antagonist types like Tom, William subconsciously assumed this was the case too.
"Our relationship isn't that good—"
"But not that bad either? I still don't even know who you are—so what exactly is it you want from me?"
"... Ha, thieves always pretend to be innocent."
"Did I steal something from you?"
William blinked, asking somewhat bewildered.
"Looks like I need to help you recall, dear forgetful rogue."
The man's voice carried a mocking tone, "Egypt, Cairo, Gringotts, Vault... and," he paused, "Divine Metal." (See Chapter 178 for details)
"Oh—"
William blinked, not quite recalling. He searched his memory palace for a moment, finally dragging out a half-dead memory from some corner, then he reached into his pocket and pulled out a pocket watch. Its outer shell was carved from a piece of semi-transparent black stone, "Is this what you're talking about?"
Divine Metal, or the Seik Stone, he'd indeed taken a sizable chunk from that vault, thinking it was a lot at the time. But during Christmas, William found a larger piece on Mount Olympus, so this smaller piece was carved into an ornament.
"... You actually used Divine Metal as the casing for a pocket watch?"
The man's voice was clearly angry, and William could almost hear him glaring, speaking with gritted teeth.
"It's got a nice feel to it, want a piece as a gift?"
William casually opened the watch to check the time, then closed it with a crisp "click", "Originally, I intended to give you a chance to change your ways, there's really no future working with someone like Tom... But now, it seems like for scum like you working with poachers... it's best if you just die."
"... You seem to be saying my lines." The man seemed a bit speechless, he chuckled, "I never thought there would be such an audacious thief in the world."
"Is that so?"
William nodded noncommittally, "Here's a piece of advice, find a better partner—especially, don't team up with that notorious Dark Lord, there's no future in working with a lunatic like him, he's quite good at backstabbing, you'll be dead before you even get to exact revenge on me—"
"Is that so?"
The man mimicked William's tone, "I should give you some advice too then, you'd better think about why I'm willing to waste time talking to you right now, that 'notorious Dark Lord' you speak of has probably already completed his mission, your dear students—what a pity, they're only seventeen, right? Such a great age..."
William's eyelids twitched slightly, as if just remembering the matter, his face showing visible panic, "Damn it, what exactly are you planning? Don't, don't go after the kids! I'll agree to anything—so, is that what you want me to say?"
"... You're not scared at all? Even if that lunatic has issues, he's still a highly skilled wizard."
Watching William put on a Sichuan opera face-change act, the man seemed puzzled.
"Haha," William laughed dryly, "African, do you think you understand your partner, or do I understand my student better?"
"You have no idea what preparations we've made..."
"Alright, go back and wait for the notice."
William impatiently flicked his magic wand, and Moody's body started to shake violently. After a moment, the man's cloudy right eye regained clarity.
William handed the unconscious Moody to a nearby Merperson, and his figure vanished with a shimmer.
...
Fifteen minutes earlier.
"Huff, huff—"
Harry felt a tightness in his chest. His heart pounded as if it was about to leap out of his mouth, and his raspy, dry throat longed for water's soothing touch. But the water source that was easily accessible twenty minutes ago was now incredibly scarce.
Because he had to dodge Voldemort's attacks while constantly countering to slow his pursuit, Harry had no time to use a spell to conjure water and relieve the knife-like pain in his throat.
"Crucio!"
Voldemort seemed to have practiced the Unforgivable Curses like a Basic Attack, constantly sending green or pale spells on Harry's heels. Occasionally, the stone bricks around would explode into a large pit, then slowly heal—
Continuing like this was definitely not a solution.
Harry clearly realized that it was impossible for him to defeat Voldemort right now—he had to find a way to shake him off, but with how closely he pursued, this twisting maze was completely useless... Wait, a maze...
Looking at the disheveled but unbroken wall bricks, Harry's eyes suddenly brightened.
So he closed his eyes and forcibly held his heavy breathing.
Then, in the next moment, as the singing started, a pale white path appeared in the boy's dark field of vision, and he began to run quickly along the light path. It was unclear how much time passed, but finally, the Killing Curse that had been sounding intermittently behind him disappeared. Harry reopened his eyes, only to find himself in an intact corridor.
Not far away, a slender figure was standing there, watching Harry with a wary look.
But Harry didn't immediately address the other person. Instead, he turned back to look—seeing the solid wall behind him, a wave of excitement surged in his heart. He was indeed right: as long as he followed that light path that he could only see with his eyes closed, all obstacles on the way ceased to exist.
Though he didn't know the principle behind it, magic was such a thing... who could say?
"... How did you get through?"
Not far away, Abeba Hailu cautiously clasped her hands, curiously peeking at the seemingly unremarkable wall behind Harry, but again saw nothing unusual—yet her eyes wouldn't deceive her; the girl was sure that Harry Potter had come out from the wall.
"That's not important right now. What's important is that Voldemort is in the maze—"
Harry gasped, leaning against the wall, watching Hailu with equal wariness—he was a bit afraid she might suddenly laugh and turn into Voldemort.
"...What?"
The girl blinked, seemingly not understanding what Harry was saying—what was Voldemort?
"In short, he's a powerful black wizard who's chasing me—"
"Is this part of the competition?"
"Of course not! How can I explain it to you, do you have any powerful jerk black wizards on your side?"
"...First, tell me how you got through?"
Abeba Hailu shook her head, disregarding Harry's question, still insistent on knowing how he came over.
"Alright, I'll tell you—close your eyes, hold your breath, and you'll hear singing, and a light will appear in front of you—"
"...I saw it."
Following Harry's instructions, the girl nodded, reopening her eyes. There was a newfound softness in her dark eyes as she gazed at him, "So," she paused, seemingly contemplating her words, "that whoever-it-is, Lethifold wants to kill you? Why?"
"It's Voldemort. Because he killed my parents, so... wait, haven't you heard of him?" Harry shook his head, deciding not to waste any more words explaining. Instead, he said, "In any case, be very careful of Viktor Krum; he isn't Krum anymore—"
"...Actually, if you're willing to trust me, maybe we can work together, Ha-Harry Potter."
"It's Harry Potter."
"It doesn't matter."
"...Alright, we need to find the others quickly. Voldemort doesn't care if killing two more people means he ends up in Hell."