Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!
The wind howled, whipping the black robes as plumes of white smoke billowed into the distance. Perched atop a skyscraper, Voldemort's remnant soul steadied himself, a cigar clenched between his teeth, as he watched another building crumble. Even he felt the tremor beneath his feet.
"Hmph, you dare trifle with me with such paltry power?" The remnant soul tossed back the last of his cigar, exhaling a thick cloud of smoke that lingered in the air. "Truly foolish and overconfident."
He pulled out a crumpled copy of the Daily Prophet—the very one that had previously plastered his face on its front page with a warrant for his arrest. Each time he saw it, a fresh wave of fury washed over him.
"Accursed imposter, incarnation of evil… I am the real Dark Lord!" The remnant soul raged, knowing full well his fury was impotent. The Ministry danced to Tom's tune, and those words were essentially Tom's own. Could he really go to Tom and demand he change his mind? Absolutely not.
He'd be imprisoned, tortured beyond imagining. "Sigh…" The remnant soul sighed heavily, then suddenly looked up, "Huh?!"
Boom! Dark clouds swirled, enveloping him in scorching white lightning that crackled and burned the very air.
"Not bad," the remnant soul muttered, seemingly unconcerned.
Boom! The lightning coalesced and crashed down upon him!
The remnant soul remained unfazed. While the spell's power was considerable, it still had to hit him! Does she even know who I am? Does she know what a legendary wizard's Apparition looks like?! Does she know what instantaneous, no-cast-time spell looks like?!
"Hmph… Eh?"
A bolt of lightning, half a meter in diameter, engulfed the remnant soul's figure. His skin instantly charred and tore; the blood that oozed out evaporated in the intense heat before it could even drip. Paralysis seized him, his mind blanked, his eyes rolled back as if he had lost consciousness, but the agony dragged him back to reality.
At that instant, the remnant soul had only one thought… Who the hell locked my Apparition?!
Zzzzz— As the lightning dissipated, the remnant soul's black robe, already tattered, was now nothing more than charred rags, patched with flickering embers. Beneath, his sickly pale skin was mostly burned, making him appear almost lifeless.
However, he merely appeared dead. As a legendary wizard, the remnant soul would not be so easily extinguished.
Boom! The lightning struck again.
This time, his body shattered like a cloud of black smoke. Wisps gathered above another building, forming the remnant soul's silhouette once more. Though utterly disheveled, his cursing was filled with boundless energy.
"Damn it! A sneak attack, is it?!" The remnant soul spotted the attacker, opening his mouth to unleash a torrent of fire, intending to burn the upstart and the entire city to the ground! As for the Muggle henchmen remaining in the city… Didn't matter, he'd already sent most of them on their way.
But before he could unleash the flames, his eyes widened, and he swallowed them back down. The intense pain made his eyes bulge like a goldfish, and he frantically waved his wand, struggling to extinguish the raging inferno. He did all of this for one reason only: the one opposing him was simply unbeatable.
"Oh, that must be awful." Cassandra floated in mid-air, lightly tapping her wand against her left palm, her voice dripping with arrogant mockery.
"Cough, cough…" The remnant soul coughed incessantly, black smoke billowing from his throat, the materialization of the curse. His blood-red eyes darted towards Cassandra. If he weren't paralyzed, he'd capture that brat and torture her relentlessly with the Cruciatus Curse. Torture her to death!
But alas, there were no "ifs." The remnant soul knew he was no match for Cassandra, who possessed the "fully-equipped" gear Tom had given her. He knew all too well that if he made a move, he was truly finished. Even if Tom had initially intended to use him for sparring, that thought had vanished the moment he'd had a chance to act. The remnant soul understood Voldemort: if he was strong enough, he'd simply kill anyone who displeased him.
He could beg Tom for mercy, and Tom would disregard everything and crush him mercilessly.
"Um… kid." After a moment's thought, the remnant soul sighed. He'd be willing to act like a dog to save his life, let alone speak humbly to a brat. "Actually, there's no need for us to fight."
"Oh? Is that so?" Cassandra's eyes narrowed with feigned interest, stroking her wand in one hand. "Tell me about it."
The remnant soul frowned. With his own bad temper, he immediately realized Cassandra was toying with him. All he could do was grit his teeth and endure it, waiting for an opportunity to escape. "Theoretically speaking, I'm also your teacher."
Boom! Lightning struck the spot where the remnant soul had been standing. The remnant soul, prepared, easily dodged it, dissolving into wisps of black smoke and reforming above another building.
"After all, I'm essentially the same person as him, aren't I?" The remnant soul's face was grim, but he attempted to reason. He couldn't understand why this brat was so easily provoked.
"Shut up!" Dozens of bolts of lightning struck in succession, blasting the building below the remnant soul to pieces, causing it to collapse. Cassandra's eyes were cold. "You're not worthy to be compared to him."
"Fine, fine!" The remnant soul was distressed. "Then just tell me! What do you want in return for letting me go?!"
"Magic?" The remnant soul was confident. "The magic I possess is far beyond your imagination! If you let me go, I can teach you everything!"
"Heh, do you think your magic surpasses his?"
"He knows everything you know, and he knows everything you don't know."
"Why should I learn magic from you?" Where does this noseless, bald man get his confidence? Cassandra felt utter disdain.
"…" The remnant soul gritted his teeth. He couldn't refute it, nor would he be embarrassed to, because she spoke the truth.
He was unwilling to give up and considered mentioning his own crafted magical items. But a glance at Cassandra's alchemical artifacts, gleaming with magical light, made him feel like a beggar, and he quickly shut his mouth. He couldn't help it; everything she wore was crafted by Tom. Compared to that, his own creations were pathetic, so he couldn't bring himself to say a word.
Damn it!
Think of something else! But after careful consideration, the remnant soul realized he truly was penniless.
---