NOVEL NEXT Chapter 91: Battle with Marvolo
Tver returned to Diagon Alley to find the room unexpectedly turned upside down by Marvolo. Marvolo stood nonchalantly in the center of the room with his back to Tver, his hands outstretched as if the magical aura surrounding him had substance.
"I meant for you to adjust to your body, not to redecorate the room," Tver remarked dryly as he waved his wand, restoring the tables, chairs, and bookshelves to their original positions. Though these things were not valuable and the room was only temporary, it was still uninhabitable when in disarray.
"Hmm?" Tver was surprised to find one chair completely unrepairable, with its broken part charred black and emitting wisps of black smoke.
"How is it that you've managed to use such dark magic in the short time I was away?" Marvolo finally turned around, his face brimming with confidence as he slightly bent his waist, executing a flawless courtesy.
"Mr. Fawley, the dark magic I can wield extends far beyond this," he said proudly.
Tver pondered his words for a moment, halting the movement of his wand. "You're quite brave."
"You could say that," Marvolo replied eagerly, his body pulsating with magical energy. His eyes narrowed slightly, avoiding showing too much fierceness, while his scarlet tongue slid like a snake along his lips.
True to his nature as Voldemort, even under heavy restrictions, he couldn't diminish an ounce of his inner arrogance. Barely two hours since he had adapted to his new body, and he dared to challenge him. If Tver couldn't suppress him, there would likely be no end to his insolence in the future.
Considering this, Tver tucked his wand back into his robes, signaling fairness. "Very well, let me see then, how strong the resurrected Dark Lord truly is." He returned the same standard courtesy.
After exchanging courtesies, neither of them immediately launched an attack, instead observing each other. Until, a faint meow from outside the window broke the silence.
"Crusio!" Marvolo began with an unforgivable curse, unable to use the Killing Curse due to the contract. But that didn't mean he couldn't use the Cruciatus Curse, he thought smugly.
However, with a flick of Tver's hand, a faint barrier appeared in front of him, rippling but unaffected by the Cruciatus Curse. Then, with a swift motion, three streaks of red light flew towards his opponent.
Not only that, but the chair that couldn't be repaired had turned into several fierce wolves, pouncing towards Marvolo. However, before they could reach him, they were each swallowed by a python that emerged from the floor, using its body to shield against the three curses.
The remaining half of the python's body was swiftly crushed by Tver's subsequent attack.
"Bam!"
After the smoke cleared, Marvolo vanished along with the python! Tver turned around and cast an extremely powerful Shield Charm; a second later, fiery red flames climbed up the golden membrane.
"You're quite ruthless, resorting to Fiendfyre," Tver remarked. As he spoke, the red flames were engulfed by even fiercer blue-purple flames, accompanied by a loud "boom," creating a ring of fire around Tver.
The ring of fire seemed to come alive, continuously extending fiery tentacles and striking at every place Marvolo's apparitions appeared.
"Bang!"
The temperature of the fire hands wasn't high, and the force wasn't great; they left only black scorch marks on the wooden tables and chairs. But the sensation from the soul told Marvolo that if even a single finger were struck, his soul would be severely damaged!
"Hey hey, who's the more ruthless one here!"
The range of the ring of fire grew larger, with more tentacles extending, leaving him with no place to stand!
Appearing in the last corner of the room that had not been affected by the flames, he waved his hands repeatedly and shouted loudly: "I yield, I yield! You're going too far!"
...
Mr. Borgin, who had already fallen asleep, propped up his head with his hand, helplessly listening to the "crackling" sounds from the neighboring room and occasional vibrations.
"Bang." Some dust fell from the ceiling, landing directly on his head.
"Creak." Suddenly, he had a foreboding feeling.
"Crack—bang!" The bed beneath him collapsed!
Mr. Borgin, furious, quickly grabbed the wand from his bedside table and with a wave—the bed was repaired.
At least there was no more noise. He comforted himself in his mind. Finally able to sleep well and without any more soul tremors, he lingered in bed a bit longer to enjoy the rare peace.
So Mr. Borgin woke up a bit later than usual the next day. When he opened the shop, there was already an impatient customer waiting outside.
"Um, I apologize for opening a bit later today," he said, bending over as he opened the door, "please come in, sir."
But as he looked at the man's face, he felt a sense of familiarity.
Where had he seen this person before?
Mr. Borgin pondered for a long time but couldn't recall where he had seen such a figure. However, like the last time he encountered Mr. Percival, this customer also made no attempt to conceal his demeanor, and was even more arrogant.
With a tinge of crimson in his eyes, Marvolo glanced disdainfully around the shop.
"May I ask what you need, sir?"
Facing the respectful Borgin, he maintained his proud demeanor. "Crystals, I need all those crystals and the techniques to make them."
Borgin lowered his head, his face unreadable.
"I don't understand what you're referring to. I have many crystals here—"
"I mean crystals that can protect the soul!" Marvolo rudely interrupted him, "I know you have plenty, and I know how to make them. Hand them over! Or I'll extract your soul, bit by bit, and grind out all your secrets." He lowered his head, threatening Borgin in a low voice.
He now embodied a combination of soul and vitality. If someone were to open his body, they would find it hollow, devoid of the usual organs of a human being.
Therefore, his resistance to magic was very weak, and virtually any spell could affect his soul. As someone who pursued strength, although few could attack him with magic, he wouldn't allow such a weakness to exist within himself. To compensate, he urgently needed the protective power of crystals.
Suddenly, a hand landed on his shoulder. "Calm down, Marvolo," Tver restrained his movements helplessly. "Mr. Borgin hasn't refused."
Not seeing him early in the morning, Tver realized something was amiss. Fortunately, Borgin opened the shop late, otherwise, they wouldn't have been able to continue living in the newly purchased house.
"Mr. Percival," Borgin swallowed nervously, "we really don't have any more crystals. The difficulty of making them is too high, and what you took was the last one."
Tver didn't speak but searched in his pocket.
"Wait," Borgin hurriedly grabbed Tver's hand, chuckling nervously. "Making them takes time, a month. I'll give you one for free in a month."
"How about this, I'll return the house to you in a month, and consider the money for the house as payment for the crystals. But I need to have at least one in a week. You won't cheat me, will you?"
Tver withdrew his hand and friendly patted Borgin's shoulder. The craftsmanship required for these crystals was very high, and only Borgin had delved deeply enough into soul research to make them. So spending a little more money was no problem. Just like befriending Dervish and Banges, making friends with useful people always brought him some help.
Borgin's eyes lit up; the money for the house was not insignificant. Even if it was exchanged for five crystals, he would still make a profit.
"How could I cheat you? By then, you'll definitely receive a crystal, and at the end of the month, there will be an extra three crystals!"
Satisfied, Tver nodded and left with Marvolo, who maintained an impassive expression throughout.
Before leaving, he gave Borgin a fierce glare and spread out five fingers behind his back.