The same could not be said for the plants that wilted and blackened in his wake.
It was not because he was siphoning their life force; he lacked the power for that now. Rather, it was the sheer, corrosive nature of his lingering dark magic.
The black mist that clung to him like a second skin was toxic; anything it touched withered under its influence.
"I can offer you knowledge forbidden to most! Secrets of immortality! Power beyond your wildest dreams! Your strength is wasted on the mundane, I can show you the future you deserve!"
Even now, Voldemort schemed.
Tempting, luring, poisoning with promises.
At the same time, the black mist trailing behind him writhed and thickened, forming shadowy tendrils.
They lashed out like cursed whips, stretching toward Ian in a deadly assault.
"Oh, come now! I'm only trying to rekindle an old friendship! Just a little fireside chat!" Ian called back.
And then, with a casual flick—
He conjured Fiendfyre.
A raging inferno of blue flames erupted, hungrily devouring the encroaching darkness.
The shadowy tendrils shriveled and disintegrated instantly.
Voldemort's soul recoiled as though burned, with horror flashing across his face.
More than the twisted Killing Curse from before, this—
This was the true nightmare.
His fleeing form blurred, propelled forward by sheer terror, forcing even greater speed from his essence.
But Ian was no slower.
The distance between hunter and prey shrank rapidly.
The chase's disturbance sent shockwaves through the Forbidden Forest.
Birds exploded from the canopy, shrieking their alarm.
Small creatures darted through the underbrush, desperate to escape the creeping black mist.
"I sense a dark soul approaching…"
A centaur, deep in his evening hunt, had been skinning his latest catch when the disturbance reached him.
But he was a moment too slow to react.
Voldemort's wraith passed through him.
His once-healthy skin withered to a sickly grey, his eyes rolling back as he collapsed to the ground.
His brethren reacted with fury.
"They've killed our kin! These wretched humans!"
Bows were drawn.
Arrows took flight.
Ian barely had time to register the centaurs' cries before a volley of enchanted projectiles hurtled toward him, each one aimed to kill.
"Idiots! Beasts!"
His wand flared, and Fiendfyre surged forth once more.
The monstrous flames roared ahead, sweeping through the forest, obliterating the incoming arrows before they could reach him.
He had no desire to kill the centaurs, only to neutralize the threat.
Just before the fire reached them, he withdrew his magic.
The inferno vanished.
But the heatwave alone sent the centaurs reeling, their startled cries echoing through the trees.
"He attacked us!"
"This filthy human cub dares to strike us!?"
"How dare he! How dare he!"
They should have been cowering in fear.
Instead, they howled in fury, their rage misdirected, blaming Ian when it had been Voldemort who had killed their kin.
Ian exhaled sharply, unamused.
"I regret sparing you."
There were no indulging blind, hypocritical fools.
Without wasting another second, he cast the Protean Charm.
And the centaurs—
The centaurs fused.
A grotesque amalgamation of limbs and bodies twisted together, their individual consciousnesses blurring into an incomprehensible, chaotic mess.
Somehow, a new species had been born.
Malformed.
Mindless.
"Vera Verto!"
Ian didn't spare them another glance.
His focus remained locked on Voldemort.
If the soul fragment escaped now, Ian would lose his chance to push his magic beyond its limits.
And that was simply unacceptable.
The moment the incantation left his lips, the black mist around Voldemort reacted.
Something within the spell interfered with his very essence.
The darkness that swirled around him—
Began to change.
It twisted.
It sharpened.
And for the first time in a long, long while—
Voldemort felt something.
Pain.
"What kind of magic is this!?"
Voldemort's fragmented soul struck a wall of ignorance. He had no choice but to abandon the black mist corrupted by Ian's magic, detonating it as his control slipped away.
"Didn't your teachers ever teach you Transfiguration at school?"
Ian was in relentless pursuit. The chase turned the entire Forbidden Forest into a chaotic battlefield.
"Oh, and the Summoning Charm… Accio, Tom Riddle!"
Ian recalled a lesson from his Head of House. Since the Summoning Charm could indeed be applied to living beings, it stood to reason that it could work on souls, too.
Sure enough.
Voldemort's remnant soul immediately felt a tug, his speed plummeting.
He fled.
Ian pursued.
Even if Voldemort had sprouted wings, escape would have been impossible.
"Don't push me!"
Voldemort's fragmented soul emitted a terrified, guttural shriek. Casting a desperate glance behind him, he saw the young wizard drawing ever closer, a gleam of exhilaration in his eyes that fanned Voldemort's rage.
For so many years, countless wizards dared not speak his name. His mere presence had inspired fear. From his youth to the height of his power, only Dumbledore had ever humiliated him.
No!
Even Dumbledore had not degraded him like this!
"Die! Rot in the depths of the hell!"
The more Voldemort dwelled on it, the more his fury consumed him. The black mist around him twisted and surged, swelling with ominous intent, determined to make his pursuer pay.
Like a cornered serpent, the Dark Lord unleashed his might — a power that no ordinary soul could wield. In his unstable state between life and death, he was still capable of casting magic.
But this was a gamble. Magic drained what little of his existence remained. Yet humiliation had drowned any trace of reason.
"Noctem Evoco Mortuos!" (Night Summons the Dead!)
And so it began.
The black mist that Voldemort had amassed over countless years erupted violently. It exuded an evil and terrifying presence that seemed to devour the very light. Sunlight filtering through the trees dimmed as though swallowed by the abyss. The air grew heavy, churning with a vile, oppressive force.
The black mist writhed in a storm of shadows as the darkness spread in an instant.
Tendrils of mist twisted and lashed like serpents, coiling and snapping. Then, with a deafening roar, the mist split apart, birthing countless dark spirits.
Grotesque figures emerged from the smoke, their twisted faces contorted with rage and despair. Some resembled the remnants of those who had once been human, their hollow eyes burning with hatred, bound by invisible chains of anguish.
Others had twisted into monstrous forms, claws dripping with malice, their jaws twisted into permanent snarls of hunger.
The howls of the dead echoed through the Forbidden Forest. Even magical creatures cowered, trembling beneath the oppressive presence.
The horde of spirits surged forward, a tide of torment and destruction. Their wailing voices pierced the air, their skeletal hands reaching toward Ian, eager to drag him into the abyss.
"I knew you had a trump card!"
Ian's expression remained unchanged as he raised his wand high.
With a surge of magical power, the cursed flames of Fiendfyre burst forth. From a single flicker, they roared into an unstoppable inferno.
The entire Forbidden Forest was cast aglow.
The shadows that had blanketed the trees were stripped away, revealing the twisted destruction left in the wake of the battle.
"Boom!"
Fiendfyre clashed with the black mist spirits.
Flames and darkness collided, consuming everything in their path. Towering trees crackled and split as they were devoured, their ashen remains scattering in the swirling winds.
The smoke, black and heavy, choked the sky.
Countless spirits writhed within the blaze, their anguished cries mingling with the crackle of fire. The once-mighty forest was reduced to nothingness.
Even the creatures that had dwelled in the shadows were now no more than ash.
Amid the apocalyptic scene, Ian stood with an unwavering expression on his face. His silhouette flickered between the flames and shadows, a lone figure weathering the storm.
"Since you crave destruction so badly, I'll grant your wish!" Voldemort's fragmented face twisted within the swirling mist.
He directed the horde of spirits forward, commanding the blackened wraiths to engulf Ian's flames.
(To Be Continued…)
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