Chapter 741 - 290: Voldemort Has Lost His Cool
Chapter 741: Chapter 290: Voldemort Has Lost His Cool
Harry removed the flames burning the Dark Wizard, giving him plenty of time and space.
The azure flames gathered behind him, gradually forming a chair made of Ancient Burei Immortal Fire.
He sat on the chair, took out a crystal ball from his pocket, set the alarm, then said to the Dark Wizard, "I’ll give you one minute. If you don’t answer my questions, you die."
Saying that, he placed the crystal ball beside him.
"Take off your mask!" Harry ordered.
The Dark Wizard complied, taking off the skull mask he wore.
Now Harry could see his features clearly — a face full of beefy flesh, looking fierce with dull features, slightly tall in stature, but none of that mattered.
"What’s your name?" Harry asked.
"Koban Yaxley," the Dark Wizard said, panting heavily.
"Where’s Voldemort?" Harry asked again.
"I’m sorry, Mr. Potter, I can’t say," Yaxley answered crisply.
As soon as he finished speaking, flames surged up around him, engulfing Yaxley within them.
The searing sensation devoured his rationality, as he saw the flames licking at him, sticking to the wounds scorched on him previously.
"Aaaahhhh—" Yaxley could no longer endure it and screamed loudly.
Harry watched the screaming Yaxley with interest and said to him, "Screaming? Screaming counts as part of your time—"
"No, no, no, Mr. Potter, I’ll talk!" Yaxley screamed, "The master, he’s at Riddle Manor, conducting a resurrection ritual! Peter is assisting him..."
"Who else is helping?" Harry asked.
"We don’t know!" Yaxley repeated desperately, "Anyone who asks dies, how dare we pry into the Dark Demon King’s secrets? I’m telling the truth, spare me, spare me, Mr. Potter!"
As an outstanding fourth-year student, Harry didn’t really have a strong urge to kill.
He withdrew the flames, leaving only a ring of watching flames to securely corral the captured Death Eaters in the center.
Mr. Septimus’s advice was deeply etched in his memory; it’s best not to stain your hands with too much blood. He didn’t understand why Mr. Septimus said this, but following it couldn’t do any harm anyway.
After confirming the captives wouldn’t escape, Harry continued forward, crossing a graveyard and walking to a nearby brush.
Just then, a short figure emerged from Riddle Manor, his features indistinguishable, but the spell he opened with wasn’t at all friendly.
A rustling sound was followed by a piercing scream that tore through the night.
"Avada Kedavra!"
A powerful green light appeared, but the azure flames surged forward and devoured those spells utterly.
Besides this short wizard in front, there was another voice behind him.
"That’s impossible!"
A hissing voice sounded from behind him; it was Voldemort’s voice.
"Nothing is impossible, my dear Tom," Harry turned his head and said with a sly smile, "I really didn’t expect, Tom, that you would show up in Great Hangleton. Have you reached middle age and suddenly yearned for your Muggle bloodline, craving fatherly love?"
"You sharp-tongued Potter!" Voldemort said sinisterly.
"I am indeed curious, Tom," Harry asked leisurely, "Aren’t you the one who despises your Muggle blood the most? Why would you come to Great Hangleton, to Riddle Manor? Let me guess... is it because the resurrection ritual requires your father’s bones? How ironic, considering how much you loathed your father, yet in the end, you have to rely on his bones to be reborn... You’re really quite disgusting, a bit two-faced, Tom."
"Two-faced?" Tom clearly didn’t understand the phrase’s meaning.
"It means that you want to play the whore and keep the badge of chastity," Harry shrugged, "That’s what Professor Hao Ying taught me. You probably don’t know her... Well, a hundred years ago, she was the Professor of Magical Creatures at Hogwarts. Anyway, it’s not something good."
"Potter, your verbal assault doesn’t make me angry," Voldemort grimly chuckled, "I really don’t care, I’ve stopped caring about what you say."
"Indeed, since everything I say is the truth. If you got angry, it would show how impotent and furious you are," Harry laughed, "So are you ready, my dear Tom, are you ready for me to kill you again and send you to another Horcrux?"
"It seems you already know the secret..." Voldemort squinted his scarlet eyes, "But I’ve completed the Horcruxes, the current me won’t die unless you destroy them first. Otherwise, even if I’m defeated by your spell, I’ll rapidly resurrect in a short time!"
Saying this, Voldemort removed his hood, revealing a face paler than a skull’s.
Two large eyes were blood red, the nose was flat like a snake’s, and the nostrils were two slits... Looking like the electrical sockets Muggles commonly use.
I’m sorry, I’m professionally trained, I definitely won’t laugh in such situations.
Harry clutched his stomach and laughed out loud.
Sorry, it’s just too damn funny.
"Had enough laughing?" Voldemort grimly grinned, looking down at the graveyard beneath Harry’s feet, "Harry Potter, you’re standing on my father’s bones... He was a Muggle and an idiot... just like your mother. But they both served a purpose, haven’t they? When you were little, your mother died to protect you... I killed my father, see how useful he has become after death..."