ALL NOVEL Chapter 88: The Resurrection of Voldemort
At the end of July, Mr. Borgin impassively felt the soul tremors emanating from the neighboring house. Since he sold the house, aside from the initial few days, there were at least three such tremors each day. Even the uninitiated could sense something amiss from the soul feedback alone, let alone someone deeply versed in dark magic like him. Being the closest, sometimes the aura was strong enough to drive away customers.
The Ministry of Magic had recently been cracking down on dark magic artifacts, and this should have been his prime time for profits, yet his income had decreased by thirty percent because of this!
Regretting for the umpteenth time his decision to sell the adjacent house, Mr. Borgin stroked his hair and slumped behind the counter.
In the days leading up to moving into the house, Tver was actually pondering the insights left to him by Neville.
Based on Neville's condition, he realized that the connections within the soul were tighter than he had previously thought.
Neville's memory loss had impacted his ability to cast spells—could willpower then be linked to an entire soul?
Especially, he considered Voldemort within the Horcrux. If Neville's memory had been "chopped," what he intended for Voldemort was essentially to put a lock on his soul.
And this lock would be formed from Voldemort's own will!
Studying Neville felt like shopping at Hailan Home for Tver, with new discoveries every time—a true treasure boy...
With this realization, Tver commenced his formal research on Horcruxes.
Horcrux Research Journal
Second Experiment—
Now able to control flames that can scorch a soul yet leave it relatively unharmed.
"Delusional!"
Voldemort remained verbally abusive, with the crown also making noise this time.
Extinguish.
Tenth Experiment—
"Nonsense!"
Voldemort spewed another insult. Successfully harnessed the Philosopher's Stone's vitality, applied it to a soul fragment, but almost burst it.
Well, it burst. The crown was much quieter, only making noise when destroying fragments—perhaps accustomed to the pain of soul cleaving?
Crush.
Twentieth Experiment—
More perfect than before!
Vitality and soul fragments merged flawlessly; a small Voldemort entity could now be condensed.
His mouth, however, grew fouler; even the crown knew to keep quiet as a mere soul fragment dared to bluster and even attempted resistance.
"Wait till I am resurrected—!"
Snuff out.
The Fiftieth Experiment—
Good, so very good!
With an understanding of will, the Protego Diabolica has successfully merged the power of the soul with an unbreakable vow, capable of signing contracts with the soul.
However, the soul in the Horcrux is too shattered, let alone just a fragment of it, unable to withstand the force of the vow.
The diadem is becoming increasingly silent; could it be silently plotting a rebellion?
Snuff it out.
The Ninety-Ninth Experiment—
At last, the power of the Protego Diabolica can now be controlled at will. This is the first time since I mastered it that I have been able to control this magic to such an extent.
I reckon I'm not far behind my teacher now. The remnant soul has also turned silent, staring at me with a strange expression. What is it planning? It looks almost humiliated.
Crush it.
The Hundredth Experiment—
After the previous ninety-nine experiments, Tver has fully mastered the use of the Protego Diabolica on the soul.
So, he turned his attention to the diadem. After so many soul strippings, Voldemort within the Horcrux is barely clinging to life.
Fortunately, with the Philosopher's Stone, he transmitted enough vitality into the diadem to prevent the soul from collapsing.
Now, the diadem is almost like the ring, a combination of a shattered soul and vitality.
Stripping the soul further would fracture the consciousness so much that forming a vow would be impossible.
Tver picked up the diadem with interest. Blue-purple flames erupted from his hands, casting an eerie glow on his gentle face.
The flames slowly spread to every inch of the diadem, quickly turning the entire diadem into a ring of fire.
The burning flames continuously tormented the soul inside, leaking wisps of black mist, which were instantly consumed by the flames before they could spread.
Feeling the pain, the previously silent soul emitted sharp, piercing screams, but the sound quickly faded, and Tver could no longer make out the curses.
"You bastard, why don't you ask..."
With the extinguishing of the last wisps of black mist, the diadem ceased making any sound and returned to its original, luminous state.
"What was Voldemort shouting at the end?" Tver wondered for a second, "Never mind, he wouldn't have agreed anyway. If it's extinguished, then so be it~"
"Bastard!" The ring cursed empathetically, "You should at least tell him what he's supposed to do. With such an unclear contract, no one could ever reach an agreement with you!!!"
Throughout this period, the ring witnessed the diadem's plight all too clearly—such research was something even it had never encountered before.
It felt incredibly fortunate to have come to Tver's side before the diadem. Of course, it felt no regret over the diadem's demise. Because Tver's intentions were clear: only one of Voldemort's souls was needed.
Now that the soul of the diadem was dead, wasn't the ring the only one left with any value to use?
Tver pondered the diadem's final struggle. It seemed, perhaps, probably, that he had made a mistake?
But it no longer mattered. He had never intended to spare the diadem's soul. Unlike the ring, which had always been by his side, the diadem didn't even know his plans and seemed like a pure version of Voldemort.
The ring was different. Though it still primarily comprised Voldemort's soul, it had also fused with his will and vitality. Its malleability was significantly greater.
"So, then," Tver picked up the ring, blue-purple flames igniting with his words, "would you pledge your loyalty to me?"
"Yes, yes," the ring hurriedly responded, "I am more than willing; I've been waiting for you to say that!"
As it declared its loyalty, the blue-purple flames seemed to be absorbed, instantly melding into the inside of the ring.
Inside the unseen Horcrux, the flames doused Voldemort's form like a bucket of water.
Yet it brought no pain, merging instead with the flames, leaving a mark on his soul.
A mark representing eternal loyalty.
Voldemort chuckled carelessly, "Now that the contract is established, can you form a body for me?"
"Of course!" Tver, too, was spirited as he brought out the Philosopher's Stone.
The magic within remained unchanged despite recent use, like a perpetual motion machine continually providing vitality.
But this time, Tver needn't act himself.
Merely by placing the Philosopher's Stone next to the ring, Voldemort could absorb the life force within.
A sensation as refreshing as a spring breeze enveloped Tver's body and mind, brightening the entire room.
As the life force shaped it, a semi-solid body appeared before Tver.
It looked older than Tver, with a wicked and wild charm, thankfully handsome and not greasy, fitting well with such an aura.
At that moment, Tver inserted a green-glowing crystal into his heart.
"What are you doing?" Voldemort asked in surprise.
"Nothing much, just a little something that will destroy you if you disobey."
Tver raised an eyebrow smugly at Voldemort. He knew that once the contract was established, Voldemort would be loyal to him. But disrupting plans and loyalty weren't contradictory.
As a Dark Lord, Voldemort had hundreds of ways to covertly betray him, even "accidentally" leaking his plans to those who shouldn't know.
Deceiving souls, both he and Voldemort were experts in this area.
Thus, he inserted a crystal charged with lethal magic into Voldemort's body, which would destroy Voldemort's soul at a thought. With this double assurance, he dared to truly command the Dark Lord!