I'm in Hogwarts, what the hell is the Honghuang system?

Chapter 224 God? Too weak! Voldemort's last resort!

Chapter 224 God? Too weak! Voldemort's last resort!
As Rhine watched the wisps of white smoke gathering toward him, his pupils suddenly contracted.

This is the power of the wishes of all sentient beings!

In other words, it is the desire that all living beings yearn to fulfill that generates such power because the desire is so strong.

In the primordial era, it was a resource needed by the divine path school.

After the Great Tribulation of the Investiture of the Gods, many cultivators were included in the Investiture of the Gods List and were appointed as righteous gods of the Heavenly Court.

After that, they were no longer able to improve themselves through their previous cultivation methods.

To continue improving, the only way is through incense offerings and the power of vows.

Although Western Buddhism was not included in the Investiture of the Gods, it also followed this path.

Cultivating through the power of the vows of all sentient beings is much faster than meditating and practicing alone.

Some ordinary beings, after accumulating a large amount of incense and prayers, are able to ascend to the level of immortals or gods in the short span of a mortal lifetime!

Compared to the ancient beings who took thousands or tens of thousands of years to become immortals, this is already a rocket-like speed.

Therefore, after the Great Tribulation of the Investiture of the Gods, many immortals and gods began to compete for incense offerings and vows.

Countless people have preached among humans to gain offerings and spiritual support.

The act of burning incense and making vows has even sparked countless battles in the mortal world.

But at this moment, Rhine looked at the collective willpower of all beings converging towards him and tried to avoid it at all costs.

His pursuit of Tao is to be completely free and unrestrained, without any worries or constraints.

This is fundamentally contradictory to the practice of incense burning and worshipping deities.

Since those who follow the path of incense and deity have received offerings and prayers from the people, they must do something for their believers and respond to their prayers.

Moreover, his own spiritual practice is completely tied to the number of believers.

When the number of believers is large, the practice will flourish; when the number of believers is small, the practice will stagnate, and it is even normal to fall into a lower realm!
This is something Rhine will never allow.

How can one's own cultivation be related to that of others?
In addition to the weakness of Shinto being bound by constraints, Rhine believed that Shinto also had a fatal flaw.

That's weak!

The upper limit is too low!

If you take this path, the highest you can reach is the strength of a few powerful beings among the righteous gods of Heaven.

Quasi-Saints are attainable, but compared to those Quasi-Saints who pursue the Great Dao and seek the opportunity to prove themselves and become Saints, the Divine Path Quasi-Saints are too weak and have absolutely no chance of becoming Saints!

Therefore, even though he knew that if he monopolized the incense offerings and wishes of this world, he would achieve immortality at an astonishing speed, Rhine was determined not to take it!
I do not desire to be an immortal or a god; what I desire is to surpass Pangu and attain true freedom!

"However, the aspirations of sentient beings that I look down upon are seen as tremendous opportunities by others."

"To simply abandon it would indeed be a waste of resources."

"Why not collect them? They can be used to create a divine cultivator. With the cultivation speed of the divine path, as long as there is sufficient willpower, one can reach a very high level in a short time."

"When the ancients return, they can provide me with considerable assistance."

Rhine nodded and then carefully wrapped the power of all beings' wishes with the power of the Yuan Sea to prevent them from merging into himself.

As for divine cultivation techniques, although he doesn't have any on hand, with his current knowledge and the help of the Insightful Heavenly Eye, creating a rudimentary divine cultivation technique wouldn't be difficult.

Once a suitable practitioner is found, it can be gradually improved.

Immediately, Rhine's eyes gleamed with a mysterious light as he used his penetrating divine eye to observe the nature of the gathered willpower of all beings. Countless flashes of inspiration ignited in his mind as he deduced the divine methods based on the many techniques he had learned.

……

a few days later.

In a dark and menacing jungle.

Quirrell was clutching a handful of blood-red herbs and running desperately towards the outside.

Behind him, a vast, surging tide stretched out.

But upon closer inspection, it becomes clear that this is not a tide at all, but rather a dense swarm of venomous snakes!

Among them are some giant pythons whose size far exceeds that of ordinary pythons!

Their cold eyes were fixed on Quirrell and the blood-red herb in his hand, as if Quirrell had stolen something extremely important to them.

Quirrell screamed inwardly.

"Owner!"

"Don't you have a parsley voice?"

"Isn't the Parsnip language supposed to allow people to talk to snakes?"

"Say something and tell them to stop chasing us!"

Voldemort immediately took control of Quirrell's body, hissing as he did so.

The swarming snakes paused for a moment, but the next second, they seemed even more enraged and caught up even faster.

Quirrell panicked when he saw this.

"No, Master, why are they still chasing us?!"

Voldemort said helplessly.

"Snake-like voice can indeed communicate with snakes. Under normal circumstances, if you don't have a deep grudge against them, they are willing to give snake-like voice face and listen to you to help you."

"But now, haven't we taken away the most precious blood orchid in this jungle? We've stolen from someone's home, do you think they'll listen to you?"

"Hey, Quirrell, run!"

At this moment, Quirrell finally reached the edge of the jungle.

With agility he himself could never have imagined, he leaped into the air and landed on the flying broom, then quickly left the spot.

Moments later, a tidal wave of venomous snakes gathered below, their hissing incessant.

Voldemort's expression twisted in pain.

"These snakes dare to insult me?!"

"Just wait, once I've made enough money, fully armed and defeated Cerberus, obtained the Philosopher's Stone, and returned to my peak..."

"I'll scatter all your ashes!"

As they drove further and further away from the jungle, Quirrell finally breathed a sigh of relief.

“Master, we have obtained this rare blood orchid.”

"The other ingredients are all ready, so can we start brewing the potion you mentioned?"

After a moment's thought, he asked with a hint of doubt.

"Master, is this potion really alright?"

Voldemort gritted his teeth.

"Of course!"

He snorted coldly.

"Don't let my lack of fame in potions fool you. It's just that I don't have much time or energy to put into it. Anyway, I have a potions master to help me."

"But actually, my potion-making skills are no less than those of ordinary potion masters."

"Quirk, are you questioning me?"

Quirrell shook his head repeatedly and gave an awkward laugh.

"Well, there have been a lot of unexpected events lately, so I can hardly believe it can actually be successful."

"But since you've said so, Master, then there's definitely no problem. I can finally rest assured."

Soon, Quirrell found an abandoned house, as instructed by Voldemort, and set up the crucible there.

Voldemort seemed to be in a good mood and offered a brief explanation to Quirrell.

"The potion I'm going to make has certain requirements regarding the weather and the moon. It must be on a clear, moonlit night, and it has to be a full moon."

"This time, we were very lucky."

"The full moon is tonight, and the weather is very clear; otherwise, we would have to wait another month."

"Quirk, this proves that luck is still on our side."

Voldemort immediately took over Quirrell's body and began to process the potion.

He wasn't exaggerating when he told Quirrell.

His potion-making skills are indeed no less than those of ordinary potion masters.

After all, he used potions in the original story to protect the locket's defense mechanism.

Even Dumbledore was helpless against the potion that could only be drunk, and was nearly driven to collapse by the pain it caused.

The fact that Voldemort could concoct such a potion demonstrates his profound expertise in potions.

At that moment, he processed all the materials in a near-textbook manner, categorizing them neatly.

As the full moon gradually rose, Voldemort carefully controlled the flames, throwing various ingredients into the crucible, his eyes fixed on the bubbling bubbles, and began to stir rapidly.

Finally, as dawn broke, all the bubbles fell silent.

The cauldron contained a potion of deep purplish-red potion, which looked rather mysterious.

Voldemort's eyes revealed a satisfied and delighted expression.

"It's done!"

"This is it!"

"Selling this potion to those noble wizards would be enough to buy the alchemical items I need."

"All the investment was worthwhile!"

Quirrell breathed a sigh of relief.

After all this time, is the storm finally about to pass?

If Voldemort can truly recover to his peak and make a comeback, then I will be the number one hero!
Now, everything depends on this potion!

Quirrell carefully divided the potions into individual glass bottles before taking them to Diagon Alley.

But Quirrell was stunned as soon as he entered Diagon Alley.

people!
There are people everywhere!
The number of people appearing in Diagon Alley was even greater than during the Hogwarts school season!

and……

Many unfamiliar faces.

What's going on?
Just as Quirrell was confused, Voldemort's disgusted voice, like seeing dog poop on the side of the road, echoed in Quirrell's mind.

"Don't look at those people, they disgust me." "A bunch of Squibs, showing up in Diagon Alley..."

"I don't know what's wrong with the Ministry of Magic. Why hasn't it passed the Squib Expulsion Act yet? These scum who have tainted the wizarding bloodline should all be executed, or at least have their memories erased and be exiled to the Muggle world!"

Quirrell then realized what was going on.

No wonder these faces seemed so unfamiliar to me; they were the Squirts who had been hiding all along.

I don't know what happened, but all the Squibs have gathered in Diagon Alley.

Quirrell looked in the direction the Squirts were lining up, and suddenly his heart tightened.

At the edge of the horizon, a quaint and unusual shop comes into view, bearing the words "Wanbaoge" (meaning "Treasure Pavilion").

Quirrell lowered his voice.

"Master, I have a bad feeling."

"Look over there, a new store has opened. It's called Wanbaoge, which means it has all kinds of treasures, right?"

"Could we be that unlucky as to have our business stolen again?"

Voldemort rebuked him.

"shut your mouth!"

"This potion recipe has been lost; only I know it!"

"Do you know Borgin-Bock? They have all sorts of contraband there. You can buy almost anything there, legal or illegal, but even Borgin-Bock doesn't have this kind of potion that we have."

"What Wanbaoge? It's just a newly opened fly-by-night shop. Ignore it."

Quirrell was slightly relieved.

Just then, Voldemort, as if he had found his prey, pointed Quirrell to a hooded wizard who was queuing nearby.

"Go find that guy."

“I can sense that he will definitely be interested in our potions.”

"Moreover, this guy has the smell of a decadent nobleman about him, and he's so listless. He looks like a noble wizard who is addicted to pleasure."

"Once he experiences the effects of the potion, he will offer up his family's treasured possessions with both hands!"

Upon hearing this, Quirrell also stepped over to the hooded wizard's side.

A quick glance revealed a large belly beneath the hood, along with a pale complexion and dark circles under his eyes, a result of excessive indulgence.

Quirrell lowered his voice.

"Ahem, sir, do you want something good?"

The hooded wizard said warily.

"nice one?"

"What good stuff?"

Quirrell lowered his voice even further.

"Of course, it's something that will make you even more powerful in that area."

Instantly, the hooded wizard's eyes lit up.

He condescended to personally queue outside Wanbaoge, wasn't it all for that legendary little Vajra talisman?

He used to avoid places like Wanbaoge where duds lined up in droves, but at the last party, he personally witnessed the effects of a noble wizard using the Little Vajra Talisman.

To put it bluntly, he downed three bottles of potions and was still exhausted, so the effect was only so-so.

But when people use the Little Vajra Talisman, not only are the effects amazing, it can even boost their stamina!
The key point is that even potions concocted by a master are not immune to side effects when consumed.

But the small Vajra Talisman is completely missing!
From these perspectives, the Little Vajra Talisman completely surpasses any magic potion.

The only downside is that the production of Wanbaoge's small Vajra Talisman is currently limited, with each person only allowed to purchase one per day, and it is already in short supply.

He had no choice but to personally come and queue up in order to obtain a small Vajra talisman.

Now, hearing Quirrell repeatedly mention such a good thing, the hooded wizard thought that some small Vajra Talismans had leaked out from inside the Treasure Pavilion.

Or perhaps Quirrell is a middleman who bought a batch of small Vajra Talismans and is now reselling them to himself?

No matter what, even if it costs ten times more, it's still better than suffering here in line!

Immediately, the hooded wizard followed Quirrell to a dark corner.

"You really have that thing?"

"Alright, alright, as long as you can give it to me, Galleons are no problem at all."

Quirrell's gaze was also quite excited.

The owner really has a good eye for talent; this is going to be a success!

Once the Galleons are exchanged for alchemical items and potions that can increase strength, the Philosopher's Stone... will be within reach!
Immediately, Quirrell carefully took out a small bottle of potion and began to explain it at length.

"This is a rare and lost magic potion. Its effects are stronger than any magic potion on the market, and its side effects are also fewer."

"It was formulated by a reclusive potion master and will not conflict with any potions you have taken before."

"I dare say this potion is the best you can buy right now. It's only 100 Galleons, enough for three uses!"

What Quirrell didn't expect was...

The hooded wizard didn't rush to take out money or ask to experience the potion's effects first; instead, he started looking at him like he was an idiot.

"no?"

"This is the good stuff you were talking about?!"

"Damn it, how long have you been staying in some remote mountain forest where you can't even read newspapers?"

"Potion?"

"Pshaw, who uses potions to liven things up these days!"

The hooded wizard glanced at the bottle of potion as if it were trash.

"If your potion were genuine, it might have actually sold for 100 gold gallons a bottle before the Little Vajra Talisman from Wanbaoge came out."

"But now..."

The hooded wizard gestured with his lip, indicating that Quirrell should look in a certain direction.

Quirrell's line of sight then came to a sign hanging up in a potions shop.

"Clearance sale at a loss!"

"A bottle of 'Enhancement Potion' costs five copper nuggets!"

Discounts available for bulk orders!

"If you don't need it yourself, you can take it back and use it to breed with boars!"

Instantly, Quirrell's hands and feet turned ice-cold.

It’s over.

It's all over!
It's only been a few days, and the Potion of the End has already rotated out of the meta?
No, what on earth is happening in the magical world?!

Quirrell quickly found the Daily Prophet's Report from the past few days and started reading it from the beginning.

Upon learning that the Manufacture Pavilion was supposedly founded by a Hogwarts student and had received endorsements from numerous herbalists and even Nicolas Flamel, Quirrell felt an increasingly strange sense of déjà vu.

"Master, this, this..."

Voldemort gritted his teeth, his chest burning with rage.

"Rhine Snow!"

"It must be him, it must be him again!"

"what!!!"

"What the hell is going on? I didn't even want to mess with him again. I just wanted to get past Cerberus and get the Philosopher's Stone, so why do I still run into him?!"

"I've already condescended to make money by creating aphrodisiac potions, Rhine Snow, why are you still picking on me?"

"I will kill you! I will kill you!!!"

A terrifying killing intent erupted in his heart.

Quirrell was also trembling, on the verge of tears.

"Master, what should we do now?"

Voldemort, however, was laughing maniacally in his mind.

"Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!"

"Rhine Snow, do you think I have no other way?"

"You forced me to do this! You forced me to resort to these methods!"

Quirrell's eyes lit up immediately upon hearing this.

Does Voldemort still have a trump card up his sleeve?
As expected of the Dark Lord, judging from this, he still has some trump cards up his sleeve!

Voldemort said coldly very quickly.