The Old Ones of Hogwarts

Chapter 587-596: When Night Falls 7

Ian is very skilled at forgery.

With the help of magic, a vast ruin was created overnight, setting a trap specifically for Voldemort, who was unaware of it.

Voldemort simply strode confidently into the ruins, ready to seize the treasures within.

He quickened his pace.

At the end of the passageway was a half-open stone door. The crack was narrow, allowing only one person to pass sideways. Behind the door, there was no light, no sound, only an even stronger, suffocating stench of decay. Voldemort squeezed through the crack and entered a small stone chamber.

In the center of the stone chamber, there is a stone coffin.

The stone coffin was enormous, a full three meters long and two meters wide. Its surface was covered with dark red runes, which flickered and shimmered, as if something inside was struggling to escape. The lid of the coffin was half-open, revealing a bottomless darkness within.

Voldemort walked to the stone coffin and looked down into the darkness.

Something is moving in the darkness.

It was a faint, almost inaudible sound, like fingernails scratching on stone, like parched lips moving, like something imprisoned for millions of years finally smelling the scent of a living person.

Voldemort did not retreat.

He simply stared silently into the darkness, his three scarlet eyes burning with a cold light.

"come out."

Lord Dark Lord fears nothing, so he naturally doesn't react with surprise. Instead, his voice is disdainful, hoarse, and arrogant, echoing in the silent stone chamber.

Then, in the darkness, the scratching sound stopped.

Then, a hand reached out from the stone coffin.

The hand had no skin, only dark red muscle and pale bones, with long, sharp nails, from which hung bits of rotting flesh. It gripped the edge of the stone coffin and pulled sharply—a figure sat up from inside.

It had once been a person, or rather, it had once taken the shape of a person. Its skin had completely rotted away, revealing dark red muscles and white bones beneath. Its eye sockets were sunken, containing no eyeballs, only two eerie green orbs of light, like will-o'-the-wisps. Its mouth was wide open, revealing jagged, yellowed teeth, and it emitted a low, beast-like roar.

It looked at Voldemort, the two eerie green lights flickering in its eye sockets.

Then, it laughed.

The smile was eerie and terrifying, its rotting lips stretched to its ears, revealing even more teeth. It crawled out of the sarcophagus, its withered, decaying body appearing particularly grotesque in the dark red runic light. Its movements were slow and stiff, each step accompanied by the cracking sound of bones grinding together, yet each step was resolute, moving forward towards Voldemort.

Voldemort looked at it, a cold smile creeping onto his lips.

"A dead man," he said, "trying to stop me?"

He raised his hand, a ball of black, fiery energy coalescing at his fingertips. The flame danced in his palm, radiating a heat capable of incinerating everything. With a flick of his wrist, the fiery energy transformed into a slender fire serpent, lunging towards the decaying figure—

The fire serpent pierced through the figure's chest.

There was no explosion, no burning. The flames seemed to pass through a cloud of smoke, leaving a hole the size of a bowl in the figure's chest before disappearing into the darkness behind.

The figure paused, glanced down at the hole in its chest, then raised its head and walked towards Voldemort again. Its pace neither quickened nor slowed; it remained stiff and resolute. The hole in its chest hadn't healed, but it didn't hinder its movements in the slightest.

Voldemort frowned slightly.

He raised his hand again, and this time, a thick, steel-splitting slash shot from his fingertips. The spell struck the figure's neck, severing its head. The head rolled a few times on the ground, stopping at Voldemort's feet. The two eerie green lights flickered in their eye sockets a few times, then—extinguished.

Voldemort looked down at the head, and the corners of his mouth turned up again.

However, the headless figure did not fall. It remained standing, still striding forward. Its hands stretched out, its skinless, dark red fingers clawing at the air, trying to grasp something.

Voldemort's smile froze.

He stepped back, unleashing another severing spell that severed the figure's left arm. The severed arm lay on the ground, its fingers still twitching, but the figure did not stop. It continued to claw forward with its remaining right arm, its steps unwavering.

A flash of annoyance crossed Voldemort's eyes. He stopped using magic and instead raised his inhuman claw, slashing forward—

The sharp claws pierced the figure's chest, pinning it to the wall.

The figure struggled and roared, the two eerie green lights rekindling in its eye sockets, throbbing wildly. It gripped Voldemort's arm with its remaining right arm, its sharp nails leaving white marks on Voldemort's dark skin, but unable to pierce through.

"Tell me, tell me," Voldemort's voice was soft yet dangerous, "What is this?"

However, the figure did not answer. It only roared and struggled, the two eerie green lights growing brighter and more intense—

Then, it exploded.

There was no flying blood or flying debris. It simply transformed into a cloud of eerie green smoke, enveloping Voldemort entirely. The smoke carried a nauseating, rotten sweetness, seeping into his nostrils, penetrating his skin, and attempting to invade his soul.

Voldemort closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

Then, he suddenly opened his eyes, and a blinding red light emanated from his three scarlet eyes! Wherever the red light passed, the eerie green smoke melted away like ice and snow, instantly disappearing without a trace.

He turned around and looked at the other side of the stone chamber—where a new stone door had appeared out of nowhere. The door was open, revealing a deeper, darker passageway behind it.

Voldemort glanced at the empty stone coffin, then strode toward the new door.

He didn't see that in the corner of the stone chamber's ceiling, a small raven, almost blending into the darkness, was quietly crouching there.

The raven tilted its head, its dark eyes reflecting Voldemort's departing figure, a hint of humanity flashing in them.

"First hurdle cleared," Ian thought to himself. "Next, the second hurdle."

He gently flapped his wings, silently took flight, and disappeared into the shadows of the stone chamber. The master of Frankenstein's monsters has stitched together many classic films and television shows within this ruin.

Behind the second stone gate is a spiral staircase leading downwards.

The staircase was narrow, allowing only one person to pass at a time. There were no handrails on either side, and below lay a bottomless darkness. The stone steps were covered with a sticky, slippery substance.

Stepping on it produced a nauseating squelch. An even stronger stench of decay filled the air, mixed with a smell reminiscent of rotten honey.

"That's disgusting!"

Beneath Voldemort's feet, the viscous substance writhed slightly as he passed, as if it were alive. He looked down and, by the faint light from its three eyes, he could see what it was.

insect.

Countless tiny, maggot-like white worms densely covered each stone step. They wriggled and rolled under Voldemort's feet, and when crushed, they oozed a viscous, milky-white liquid. The liquid emitted a sweet, fishy odor, attracting more worms to surge out of the darkness and crawl towards Voldemort's ankles.

Voldemort lifted his foot, and a worm was pulled up with him, hanging from his ankle and desperately burrowing into his skin. He reached out and picked up the worm, holding it to his eyes. The worm was only the size of a grain of rice, its body translucent, revealing its black, constantly throbbing internal organs.

The insect's head has a tiny, needle-like mouthpart that is wriggling frantically, trying to pierce its skin.

"You want to parasitize me?"

Voldemort tightened his grip slightly, crushing the insect and splattering milky white fluid onto his fingertips. He sniffed it; the sweet, fishy smell grew even stronger.

His lips curled up slightly, revealing a cold smile.

"interesting."

He continued down the path. With each step, countless insects were crushed beneath his feet, and the milky white fluid multiplied, flowing down the stone steps and forming a small stream. The pungent, sweet stench grew stronger, almost suffocating. More insects surged from the darkness, no longer merely crawling towards Voldemort's ankles, but piling up and gathering, forming writhing, ever-changing mounds.

The stairs seemed endless. Voldemort walked for a long time, so long that the insects at his feet had piled up to his ankles, so long that the sweet, pungent smell had become so strong that it made him feel slightly uncomfortable.

Then, he saw the light.

The light came from the end of the stairs; it was a dark red, like congealed blood. It illuminated the last few stone steps and the huge, tightly closed stone door at the end of the stairs.

Voldemort quickened his pace. He crushed the insects on the last few stone steps and reached the stone door.

The door was closed. There were no runes or handles on it, only a small, fist-sized hole. The hole was deep and dark inside, and it was impossible to see what was inside.

Voldemort put his hand into the hole.

His fingers touched something cold, smooth, and metallic. He grasped it and pulled hard—

The stone gate suddenly burst open!

Behind the door was a huge, empty hall.

The hall's dome was so high that its top was invisible, and the walls on both sides were covered with dark red runes, their red light enveloping the entire hall in a blood-red glow. The floor of the hall was paved with some kind of black, smooth, mirror-like stone slabs, on which Voldemort's distorted figure was reflected.

In the center of the hall, there is a stone platform.

On the stone platform, there is a mirror.

"This is it!"

Voldemort's pupils contracted slightly. He strode towards the stone platform, his footsteps echoing in the empty hall, each step carrying an impatient urgency.

He walked to the stone platform and looked down at the mirror.

The mirror is not glass, but some kind of flowing, mercury-like liquid that slowly rotates in the red light.

"With you, I can take down the raven!"

Voldemort couldn't wait.

His fingers touched the mirror.

However, in that instant, the whole world changed. The hall vanished, the stone platform vanished, and the dark red runes disappeared as well.

"What's going on!" Voldemort found himself standing in an endless darkness, with no ground beneath his feet and no sky above him, only endless darkness.

And standing opposite him was a person.

It was a child. Black hair, delicate features, looking no more than twelve or thirteen years old. He was dressed in ordinary dark clothes, his hands in his pockets, tilting his head to look at Voldemort, a faint smile on his lips.

Voldemort's pupils contracted sharply.

"you""

"Shh." The child put a finger to his lips, gesturing for silence. His voice was soft and calm, yet clear in the boundless darkness, like a whisper in your ear, "Don't speak. Listen."

Voldemort instinctively shut his mouth.

A sound could be heard in the darkness.

It was a multitude of tiny, rustling sounds, like countless insects crawling, like countless bones rubbing against each other. The sounds surged in from all directions, growing closer and louder, until finally merging into a deafening roar!

Then, Voldemort saw them.

Insects. Countless insects. They surged forth from the darkness, overwhelming and densely packed, like a black tide. They varied in size, some as large as a fist, others as small as a grain of rice; some had wings, some had sharp teeth, some were covered in hair, others were smooth as a mirror. They piled up, rolled, and tore at Voldemort!

Voldemort raised his hand, and a thick stream of Fiery Blaze erupted from his palm!

Suddenly, the black flames transformed into a gigantic fire dragon, surging towards the swarm of insects! Wherever the fire dragon passed, the insects instantly turned to ashes!

The air was filled with the smell of burning!

But there were just too many insects. They swarmed in from all directions, endless, as if the entire dark world were made up of them!

The fire-breathing dragons devoured one group, and ten more surged forth; a thousand were burned to death, and ten thousand more crawled out of the darkness. They climbed up Voldemort's ankles, his calves, his thighs, their sharp teeth tearing at his skin, their pointed mandibles piercing his flesh!

"Damn it! Get out of here!"

Voldemort roared, and his entire body erupted with a blinding red light! Wherever the red light passed, the insects exploded, turning into clouds of blood mist!

He seized the opportunity to soar into the sky, hovering in mid-air, looking down at the boundless sea of ​​insects below. The child was still standing in the center of the sea of ​​insects.

Insects swarmed past his feet, but none touched him. He stood there, hands in his pockets, looking up at Voldemort, his smile deepening.

"You can't kill them all," the child said, his voice as calm as if he were discussing the weather. "This is their lair."

Their numbers are greater than any number you can imagine.

Voldemort gritted his teeth and unleashed another burst of fiery energy! This time, instead of spreading the flames, he condensed them into a thin beam of light, as sharp as a sword!

explosion!

The entire sea of ​​insects was blasted open with a huge hole! Countless fragments of insect limbs scattered everywhere, and their sweet-smelling bodily fluids flowed into streams!

Flowing in the darkness!

"I am the most powerful! The most terrifying!" This time, Voldemort didn't use Fiendfire anymore; instead, his entire body began to writhe.

The insect wanted to eat him?

Then he'll devour this bizarre space first!