Chapter 99: Corrupting My Students with Dark Magic
"Seems quite skilled."
Voldemort didn't seem to perform any specific magical manipulations, yet after one transformation, he could perform a secondary transformation.
The transformed walls could even merge together, which clearly demonstrated Voldemort's mastery of the Transfiguration Charm.
Dylan couldn't help but look for similarities and differences between Voldemort's practical application and his own.
He surrounded himself with flames, turning them into a shield to protect him from the relentless onslaught of black snakes, while simultaneously controlling the flames to strike these snakes, observing the magical fluctuations they emitted.
Every spell had its own unique fluctuation, like a magical "password," containing crucial information such as the spell's origin, casting method, and magical power.
This was something Dylan had gradually come to understand after mastering several max-level spells and through the professors' every explanation of magic and magical power.
"Swish!"
Flames swept across, burning a patch of black snakes to ashes.
Dylan stood on the ground corrupted by darkness, the battle between flames and black snakes raging fiercely.
Through the black snakes' fearless attacks, the more Dylan sensed, the more he could perceive the depth of Voldemort's understanding of the Transfiguration Charm.
No wonder he could make the transformations so exquisite.
Dylan extended his senses into the magical fluctuations of the black snakes, analyzing them like disassembling a complex machine.
He discovered subtle traces of Voldemort's manipulation of magic within the rhythm of the fluctuations.
For example, when a black snake lunged at him quickly, the magical fluctuations exhibited high-frequency and stable pulses.
This indicated Voldemort's precise control over the black snakes' movements, allowing them to unleash powerful attacks in an instant.
Changes in the intensity of the fluctuations also revealed information.
When a black snake encountered the flames, the magical fluctuations would show a brief peak, followed by a steady decrease.
This meant that when the black snakes were blocked, Voldemort could quickly inject magic to maintain his offensive, while also flexibly adjusting based on the actual situation to avoid unnecessary consumption of magic.
"Watching a master caster use spells is much faster than just listening to professors explain them."
Dylan enjoyed the thrill of exchanging spells with Voldemort.
This kind of practical combat was quite rare for him.
—Professors usually wouldn't spar with him seriously, let alone use their full power just to kill him.
Dylan constantly replayed these subtle details of the fluctuations in his mind, comparing them with his own magic usage when casting similar summoning spells in the past.
He found that he still lacked consistency in his magic flow, while Voldemort's magic output was like a flowing stream, continuous yet controlled.
He could utilize every bit of magic to its limit.
—Clearly, Dumbledore could also achieve this level.
"Is this the level of a true magic master?"
Just relying on the Partis Temporus spell, even though his magic was currently abundant and his spirit was high, the feeling he got from using it still couldn't compare to the grand display Dumbledore had put on in his weakened state.
"I still have too many shortcomings."
Dylan didn't feel any arrogance or conceit because he had mastered several max-level spells.
On the contrary, it was precisely because he had so many max-level spells as a foundation that he could clearly understand his shortcomings in various aspects.
Only by constantly learning, constantly learning, constantly learning, could he truly become stronger!
In Dylan's view, so-called max-level spells were just a mastery of specific techniques.
He could thoroughly understand the principles and usage methods of a spell, allowing him to compare it with other spells and learn by analogy.
However, the more he studied, the more he could feel his own insignificance.
Just within the wizarding world, the magic that could be born was endless.
And after this transmigratory experience, he also very much wanted to try to research magic to its extreme, to see if he could touch the ceiling of other worlds.
This was also one of the driving forces behind Dylan's relentless studying every day.
By analyzing these differences, Dylan began to try to imitate Voldemort's magic control methods.
This kind of master-level technique application was rare; even Professor Snape was slightly lacking.
Of course, in Dylan's opinion, the ultimate control over spells still belonged to Old Dumbledore.
Little Voldy, in the end, had only pushed "certain" magic to unprecedented heights.
But in other areas, he was still pathetically ignorant.
However, Dylan didn't care. He was equally ignorant, whether about dark magic or white magic.
How to deflect the Killing Curse.
How to remain alive after being hit by the Killing Curse.
How to dissect the Killing Curse and remove it from the Unforgivable Curses.
How to develop his own Unforgivable Curses…
These were all things Dylan wanted to do.
"Vulcanus Volens!"
The raging flames dispersed the surrounding snakes, giving Dylan more room to maneuver.
He began to incorporate the newly learned techniques into his magic flow.
Despite the rampant black snakes around him, Dylan was already immersed in this deep study of his opponent's magic flow.
And he was constantly and frantically absorbing the essence of Voldemort's spellcasting.
Until—
"AspicInvocation!"
Dylan lightly flicked his wand.
In an instant, the air in the room became turbulent, and a dark magical power gathered on the ground like a vortex.
The floor vibrated violently, cracks spreading like a spider web, and thick black mist surged out from the gaps.
Then, accompanied by a low, drawn-out hiss, a giant asp, with a size beyond imagination, burst from the ground.
The asp's body writhed, unlike ordinary snakes. Its scales shimmered coldly in the dim light, its body was thick, as large as a millstone.
The giant asp's blood-red vertical pupils flashed with coldness, and as its tongue flicked, a fishy wind filled the room.
"You actually have such a deep understanding of this kind of magic? This is no longer a normal spell."
Voldemort's snake-like pupils stared in Dylan's direction.
—Although the other party was still wearing the Invisibility Cloak, the surging flames released from that position simultaneously indicated the master's location.
"Thanks to your repeated demonstrations." Dylan's expression was calm. He unhurriedly raised his hand, the tip of his wand pointing towards Voldemort's swarm of snakes.
The giant asp instantly understood, its massive body moved abruptly, charging towards the black snake swarm like an arrow shot from a bow. Its speed created a gust of wind, causing the robes of both of them to flutter loudly.
Voldemort's swarm of snakes, though numerous, was thrown into disarray by the impact of this behemoth.
The giant asp, relying on its powerful strength and agile movements, charged left and right through the snake swarm. Each flick of its tail could send dozens of black snakes flying, and each bite caused chaos within the enemy ranks.
Dylan stood behind, quietly observing the battle, occasionally lightly moving his wand to adjust the giant asp's attack direction.
Voldemort's eyes narrowed at the sight.
Looking at the giant asp rampaging through his snake swarm, a hint of fondness actually appeared in his eyes.
"You could create such a realistic asp just by observing my spellcasting? No wonder the Hogwarts professors praise you so highly."
Voldemort was arrogant, but he had never truly underestimated the Hogwarts professors.
Those who could teach here were almost all the best in their respective subjects.
And for a first-year wizard to be favored by so many professors, all vying to tutor him privately, spoke volumes.
Even he had genuinely developed a fondness for this talented little brat.
Voldemort's hoarse voice sounded, "I can sense your dark magic talent is far beyond what you've shown. If you're willing…"
Before Voldemort could finish speaking, Dylan directly and ruthlessly interrupted, "I'm not willing."
Just kidding, he could guess what the other party wanted to say without Voldemort even finishing his sentence.
Was this Voldemort sick in the head?
They were already fighting, halfway through, and you tell me you want to recruit me again?
No wonder this guy hadn't killed as many people in his entire life as Seamus's one explosion.
Did all villains talk this much nonsense?
When we righteous people killed, we didn't even blink!
"Go!" Dylan controlled the asp, charging towards Voldemort.
However, Voldemort simply raised his wand, and the giant asp Dylan had summoned was instantly blasted away, a large hole torn in its abdomen.
The asp writhed and struggled on the ground in pain. Dylan was stunned.
"That shouldn't have happened! How could it be blown away so easily? Did I mobilize too little magic?"
While Dylan was thinking, Voldemort narrowed his eyes, his gaze flickering, seemingly contemplating something.
In the next moment, he suddenly raised his wand.
"Avada Kedavra!"
The sickly green light flashed, but its target wasn't Dylan. Instead, it struck the wall.
Dylan paused, raising an eyebrow.
What did little Voldy mean by this?
"Fiendfyre!"
The evil flames transformed into ferocious beasts, constantly circling around Dylan.
Dylan thought Voldemort wanted to use Fiendfyre against him and was preparing to use the counter-curse to extinguish it. However, the Fiendfyre only danced around him, continuously displaying various intricate details of the flames.
It was as if the other party was deliberately showing him how exquisite his control over the Fiendfyre Curse was.
Dylan was stunned again and again.
What was going on?
Was he putting on a magic show for him?
He warily watched Voldemort's movements. He naturally wouldn't think that a guy Dumbledore was wary of would only do such useless things.
Perhaps the other party was hiding some conspiracy, preparing to directly suppress and kill him!
However, the other party waved his wand back and forth, casting various dark curses—
Avada Kedavra, Crucio, Fiendfyre…
Taking turns.
Voldemort didn't speak, only casting spells relentlessly.
Dylan blinked. Whether Voldemort used Crucio, Avada Kedavra, or even the Dementor's Kiss, he only flicked his wand towards the surrounding walls.
What on earth was he doing?
At the same time.
Voldemort laughed sinisterly in his mind.
"Hehehe! How can such a talented fellow not fall into becoming a dark wizard?"
He continuously used his recovering power to cast extremely exquisite dark magic.
—He had long since become mentally twisted, so the casting of these spells could no longer affect his emotions any further.
However, watching these dark curses, even trying to understand their principles, would inevitably affect one's mind with dark magic.
This little wizard was so young, yet so talented. Facing the powerful magic he displayed, how could he not be tempted, not try to understand?
As long as he was tempted and tried to master dark magic, the curses would leave a seed of darkness in his heart!
When this guy truly sensed the beauty of dark power, he would possess an even more powerful vessel!
Dylan would also become another fallback for him!
While Voldemort fantasized in his mind about controlling Dylan and then using him to break through Hogwarts and control the entire wizarding world,
He kept demonstrating various dark magic spells to Dylan.
"Look at how fascinated this little wizard is. He must already be influenced by the dark curses!"
Voldemort watched Dylan standing still, not moving, just silently observing the dark magic around him. He couldn't help but feel secretly pleased, and the movements of his hands became even faster.
Dylan himself already mastered the three Unforgivable Curses at max level, along with dark magic such as Fiendfyre, Morsmordre, and the Imperius Curse.
So when Voldemort personally demonstrated other dark magic spells to him, he only needed to glance at them once to learn quickly and understand easily.
For a moment, the scene fell into a bizarre situation.
A little brat stood in place, silently holding his wand, doing nothing, just learning.
A guy with one head but two faces stood in the distance, frantically using dark magic all over the room.
"Boom boom boom!"
[Notification]: A true master of dark magic is performing acrobatics for you. You have unlocked a new achievement!
Time passed bit by bit.
After demonstrating for a few minutes, Voldemort's spellcasting speed gradually slowed down.
The little bit of power he had managed to recover with Dylan's help was now almost completely exhausted.
Of course, Voldemort wouldn't use up all his power, even if he wanted to corrupt the little wizard's mind with dark curses, preferably making him completely twisted, mentally broken, and a madman who only knew how to indulge in studying dark power.
But he wouldn't waste his power limitlessly, leaving himself with no way out.
—A person without a way out would fall into despair!
This was Voldemort's consistent way of thinking.
"Voldemort's research into dark magic is truly profound. In some aspects, he can definitely be called the number one in the entire wizarding world!"
Dylan looked at the various dark magic spells crowding around him, all filled with extreme evil and the aura of death.
Having already mastered extremely powerful max-level dark curses himself, he could even more deeply recognize the viciousness and cruelty emanating from these spells.
Some dark curses he hadn't mastered before also brought him extremely novel sensations.
Just as he was preparing to learn a few more spells, Voldemort's movements slowed down.
He couldn't help but frown.
"Is that all? Is that it? You..."
Just as Dylan was planning to have Voldemort cast a few more dark magic spells he hadn't learned before—
—"Don't even think about corrupting my student with dark magic! Tom!"
The surrounding space twisted for a moment.
An old man with deep and serious eyes, flowing silver hair, and a long white beard fluttering, suddenly appeared not far away.
With a wave of his hand, a powerful and pure magical power surged out, instantly sweeping through the entire room.
The menacing traces of dark magic rapidly dissipated under the impact of this magical power. The fiercely burning Fiendfyre Curse was like having its throat choked by an invisible giant hand, extinguishing in an instant, leaving only wisps of blue smoke slowly rising.
Dylan and Voldemort both stiffened immediately.
"Old Dumbledore?"
"Dumbledore?!"
(End of chapter)
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