Hogwarts: Bloodline Chapter 429 - 140: Phoenix and the Invisible Shadow3

Chapter 429: Chapter 140: Phoenix and the Invisible Shadow_3

The magic power used to cast spells has beco completely dormant, devoid of any vitality, like stagnant water, and just like those Squibs he despises.

The weakening of magic power.

Causes Voldemort to struggle in dealing with the blades in the space around him.

His black robe is already ignited with flas, emitting a pungent burnt sll. He tries to continue using his shield to fend off the surrounding attacks, but the increasingly difficult-to-control magic power leads him to further decline.

The shield continuously crackles, seemingly on the verge of collapsing at any mont.

"As you said, perhaps it’s the magic that Dumbledore was unwilling to teach you?" Ian also begins playing with psychology, making Voldemort grow increasingly enraged.

"Dumbledore is just a guy I toy around with! Damn bastard! You and Dumbledore will eventually taste the consequences of being my enemy!"

"I wasn’t defeated by you! I was defeated by that damned thing you threw! We will et again one day! I’ll settle the score with you then!"

Voldemort has already realized he’s been tricked by Ian, watching in desperation as his magic shield weakens, he curses through gritted teeth intending to flee.

Only to see.

Voldemort transforms into black smoke, rushing toward the ceiling.

"If you want to escape, it should be sooner. Unfortunately, you were trapped when I ca in." Ian’s words leave Voldemort bewildered, and an ominous premonition drives him to madly charge upward.

"See, you’re rely postponing death..." Ian gently turns his magic wand, and imdiately, as Voldemort’s smoke drills into the ceiling, his movents suddenly halt.

In the black smoke that his body transford into.

There is a trace of unusual color.

"Boom!"

It’s as if the control over his body was seized; Voldemort drops from the ceiling, unable to maintain the magic, reverting to his wounded human form.

"No!"

Before he can get up.

Blades pierce through Voldemort’s body, preventing him not only from moving the hand holding his magic wand, but also pinning him entirely to the ground.

"What have you done to !"

Voldemort’s eyes blaze red, roaring as he raises his head.

"A little Transformation Technique shock, how about it, isn’t it great?" Ian glances at the Mirror of Erised for a mont before turning to speak to the miserable Voldemort.

"I already told you earlier, victory always stands on my side; I don’t like to lie." Ian gently shakes his magic wand, and the spikes protruding from Voldemort’s body suddenly turn into chains.

They erge from Voldemort’s flesh, binding his hands, feet, and head, making it possible for Ian to choose to torture and dismber Voldemort at any mont.

"This can’t be Transformation Technique! It defies Gamp’s Basic Transformation Law!" Voldemort glares with blood-red eyes, panting, his voice filled with disbelief.

"You see, I told you you didn’t learn anything real at Hogwarts; you must have never attended Professor McGonagall’s class. She personally told

that wizards are the truth of gods."

"Being gods, what’s the point in discussing laws? It’s the limitations of thought that bind you, Tom!" Amid deep crimson flas, Ian steps closer to Voldemort, who is pinned in the center of the room. Voldemort’s magic wand has already turned to ash in the flas, whether it was Quirrell’s original wand or not is unknown.

"What is this magic?"

Voldemort suddenly seems to calm down.

"It’s magic I created myself... my odyssey." With each step, Ian treads on a carpet woven from flas, yet he feels no heat nor is affected by the fire one bit.

"Do you think by defeating and killing , you can beco a hero? Dumbledore won’t let you go... and I, am the one who truly understands you!"

Voldemort struggles to lift his head to look at Ian.

"I don’t think you can understand."

Ian purses his lips.

"You’re just a synthetic mory, an alchemy weapon created by Dumbledore. When you’re no longer useful, our headmaster will have you destroyed."

Clearly.

Voldemort’s misunderstanding of Ian persists. He seems to have accepted the inevitable, abandoning the hysteria and frenzied anger that possessed him before.

"You’re the biological weapon, your whole family is biological weapons." Ian gives Voldemort a resounding slap, denting one side of Voldemort’s face.

This guy clearly sacrificed substantial flesh and blood to forcibly enhance his magic strength earlier.

"I have to say, if you intended to rise by stepping over , you have succeeded... using so deceit and trickery." Voldemort enduringly suppresses his rage to speak in his hoarse voice.

"If you have ambition, as long as you don’t kill , I can assist you and make you the new generation Black Demon King... I think I would enjoy such an achievent."

"After all, I am not young anymore; it’s ti to find a successor." Of course, Voldemort is blatantly lying; he’s rely attempting to preserve his hard-won life.

However.

This thod of temptation is indeed sowhat unique.

"?????"

Ian feels that Voldemort probably regards the Black Demon King as a title of great prestige.

"Your brain certainly doesn’t work like ours; how could you think I would desire to beco a Black Demon King? Don’t you know I hate it when others fear ?"