allendalepharm Chapter 342 Take Your Hand Away
Chapter 342 Take Your Hand Away
Chapter 342 Take Your Hand Away
Fleur Delacour said today's schedule was a bit stressful, as she had to come for private coaching from Voldemort, which made her quite conflicted.
This is the Dark Lord!
Moreover, it involves learning curses, something that seems to be taught in universities, but is essentially black magic.
Even just standing there close by made her feel uneasy, and she started to feel a chill run down her spine. Before she knew it, she found herself sweating profusely.
But this was Principal Lockhart's arrangement, and as the president of the Lockhart Book Club, the second largest student power organization in Beauxbatons, she was actually quite willing to follow the arrangements of her idol, Lockhart.
Moreover, she is extremely ambitious and proud, and she is eager to become stronger and win the Warriors Individual Championship in the Triwizard Tournament.
She wrote home hoping to get her family's opinion on this.
Her father also expressed some concern about this, but thought it was a good opportunity and advised her not to regard Voldemort as the Dark Lord, but as Vice Principal Beauxbatons.
The vice principal is busy today.
She went to ask for advice as previously agreed, but ended up helping out instead.
Voldemort is moving!
I stayed in Hogsmeade Village, next to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, located at the corner at the end of the village's main road.
It's not very quiet here; just a wall away is a filthy, greasy-looking bar.
A few young but passionate voices drifted from the bar, carrying far through this quiet, dark corner.
"I believe Tom Riddle exhibited this characteristic even during his school years—he yearned to break the rules, yet also craved the power of those rules. Therefore, his mindset wasn't one of deviating from the rules, but rather one of detachment and ambition. This is consistent with his use of the 'Serpent's Protection' and 'Flying Charm'."
"No, I disagree. You've confused the concept of rules and lumped many statements together. He loathes and opposes the discipline of reality, displaying a repressed anger. What he wants are his own rules. This innate, ambitious desire for control is the source of the instantaneous burst of power in these two spells."
Horrible!
Fleur was terrified by what she heard and secretly glanced at Voldemort and Bella's expressions.
Voldemort was clearly stunned. He stood there, listening to the discussions in silence, while Bella and Fleur watched him with some unease.
Lockhart, who had brought them to their new home, laughed heartily. "Here it is, the little building next to the Pighead Bar. This place is yours now."
Then, exclaiming how interesting it was, he excitedly ran to the tavern next door, intending to listen to the dueling club members' insightful analysis.
"Master!" Bella exclaimed angrily, "How dare they speak ill of you! It seems we Death Eaters have been inactive for far too long; they never even dared to mention your name before!"
Voldemort chuckled, reaching out to press down her hand as she drew her wand, patting it gently to soothe her. "The old 'Do Not Say My Name' was a deliberate means of pursuing mysterious powers, combined with the mysterious power brought by the name 'Voldemort'—"
He narrowed his eyes. "Everything was destroyed and changed after Gilderoy wrote my biography. I had to change direction and now I hope more people will talk about me."
"Mystery" is not simply about hiding.
Just as the Wizarding World cannot collectively relocate to the remote Arctic or Antarctic or build dungeons for the sake of the Secrets Act.
That's not mysterious; it's something forgotten in a corner that no one cares about.
The best way is to go into the heart of the most bustling human activity, and then hide there, in the era of the Internet explosion, in an environment full of cameras, in the unknown side of countless Muggle activities, and not in a way that is cautious and enthusiastic in organizing world events.
The greatest hermit lives in the city; that is the truest form of seclusion, and the most mysterious power.
Voldemort is not Lockhart; he can't easily explain these complex principles in a few words, and he's too lazy to go on and on. So he simply maintains a mysterious smile and a calm demeanor.
"Let's go."
He looked up at the small building in front of him. "Living in Hogsmeade Village next to Hogwarts, that sounds really exciting."
Many people are talking about the "new era," and in his eyes, the beginning of the new era is the Triwizard Tournament that is currently taking place at Hogwarts.
This is the epicenter of the new era's storm!
Step into it, feel the power of the storm, and pursue life's opportunities.
Find a way out for yourself.
He turned to look at Fleur Delacour and smiled with satisfaction. She was a potential Triwizard Tournament champion, and with proper training, it was not impossible for her to become one.
See, everything started off very well, didn't it?
"Come with me to set up the potion-making room. Today I'm going to break down your prejudices against dark magic and let you truly experience the fundamental logic between the disciplines of potion-making and defense against the dark magic."
Furong's eyes lit up, and she quickly performed the ancient ritual a wizard would perform for his teacher, reciting a famous saying from the time of master-disciple transmission in ancient times: "I will follow in your footsteps."
Voldemort simply smiled and nodded.
He had heard plenty of flattery in his life, and promises were often not kept, so he didn't believe them.
What he wants is action.
Only a deep-seated understanding can form the basis for all actions and the beginning of fulfilling all promises.
If this little witch doesn't end up practicing dark magic—
He would only think that his teaching was a failure, that he hadn't made the student in front of him truly accept black magic, appreciate its beauty, or develop any idea of using black magic against contemporary values.
"Today we're preparing Bone Regeneration Elixir."
After wandering around the small building for a couple of hours, Voldemort left the task of setting up his new home to Bella and the house-elf he had brought from Black Castle, and quickly chose a potion-making room.
Located on the second floor, sitting by the window and looking down, you can see people like Harry Potter passionately discussing themselves in a corner seat of the Pighead Bar next door.
He listened with great interest, instructing his apprentice, Fleur, to take out potion-making materials and equipment from her suitcase and place them on the shelves around the room, while placing the materials needed to make Bone Spirit separately on the large table in the center.
Of course, he would also offer some guidance.
"It's foolish to think of the Levitation Charm as just an invisible hand of the wizard, rather than simply using it."
.
"The function of this magic is levitation; the most amazing thing about this magic is that it makes you lose the sense of the weight of the object you are using."
"You can use the Flight Spell—"
With a clanging sound, the cauldron, driven by the Flying Spell, hurtled rapidly toward Hibiscus. She was nearly hit on the head and quickly dodged, but the cauldron crashed into the wall with a loud bang.
She turned pale with fright and looked at Voldemort.
Voldemort didn't turn around to look at her, seemingly unconcerned about such a mistake. Perhaps in his mind, most people in this world were stupid, and if he intended to teach, he had to be prepared to deal with fools.
Um----
This kind of thinking is really bad.
Hibiscus hurriedly ran over and picked up the cauldron, frantically waving her wand to cast a repair spell.
"The secret to casting the Flying Spell is to open your mind."
Voldemort turned his gaze away from Neville, who was taking out his notebook to record the "Flying Charm," and finally looked back at her. "Many foolish people always think that control is the expression of one's will over the world, and that this is the manifestation of control."
"This is wrong."
"At least in magic like the Levitation Charm and the Flying Charm, control is not about highly emphasizing one's own will and desires, but about completely abandoning self-emphasis, opening one's mind, and integrating oneself into the world."
"Believe that the effect you want to control is the way the world should be."
"Then, leave everything else to magic and let the magic unfold naturally."
"At this point, you'll find that whether it's the Levitation Charm or the Flight Charm, it allows you to experience the wonderful feeling of effortlessly controlling everything."
"remember!"
He gazed intently at Furong, subtly using some of his soul power to ensure that his next words would be deeply imprinted in the apprentice's mind.
"Control over casting magic —"
"It's not your control over magic!"
"It's about your control over the effects of magic!"
If Lockhart's teaching style is considered inspirational, it's related to his status as a bestselling author; he can always easily make his teachings vivid and interesting enough to resonate with readers.
Voldemort's teaching method was disciplined. He always believed he was right and had extremely rich experience that fully validated his magical ideas, demanding that others obey without question.
"Only a foolish wizard would think about controlling magic. A sane wizard is always thinking about what he wants to achieve, and magic is just a tool to help him achieve that."
"You must believe that magic can do everything on its own."
"It is elusive and uncontrollable. You will find that the more effort you put into it, the more it resists you and makes your spellcasting a mess."
Everything that needed to be said has been said.
Moreover, it's a concept explained by a master using the simplest language.
This little witch was clearly not worth his effort to emphasize repeatedly; if she didn't listen, it would only be her loss.
Voldemort looked again at what was happening inside the Hog's Head pub.
To everyone's relief, although at first Hibiscus's poor spellcasting would still go out of control, gradually the clanging sounds became less frequent and eventually disappeared completely.
Furong was excited at this moment.
She waved her wand, causing the items in the suitcase to fly out and fall one by one onto the shelves, arranged according to her wishes.
This was something she couldn't do in the past.
Such a smooth and flowing motion.
So exhilarating.
Yes, she actually felt a sense of exhilaration while casting spells, watching these things fly around and settle into their places as she waved her wand. In that instant, she rediscovered the wonderful feeling she had when she first encountered magic as a child.
Unfortunately, Voldemort seemed to think that doing this was a very basic thing, not worth looking back at or praising.
The big shot always felt it was incomprehensible that a 13-year-old wizard couldn't easily master the Levitation and Flying Charms, but there were so many fools in this world, it was always disappointing.
He had longed to change this situation when he wanted to teach at Hogwarts.
Let everyone truly feel the beauty of magic, and then step into the world of magic.
Unfortunately, he was unable to take the position.
He gazed intently at the young wizards in the dueling club in the bar, filled with emotion.
Yes, that's it. That's what the students I wanted to teach back then would look like.
He did not consider it offensive for these people to discuss him.
Just like when he was instructing the members of the Wolpes Knights (the precursor to the Death Eaters) at school, he often used Dumbledore as an example.
Lockhart's words resonated deeply with him—we must fully respect the will and thoughts of the most powerful wizard of our time, and understand him; this is one of the essential understandings of how the wizarding world works. Because magic is inherently like this: the expression of one's own will to the world, and the will of the most powerful wizard has long since permeated every corner of the magical world.
For a master of magic, being studied and challenged is a very interesting thing.
It's as if life only becomes vibrant because of the existence of an opposite.
Voldemort stood up and walked toward Fleur, for he had already seen Dumbledore come among the young wizards and glance at him.
That was a warning look.
Huh~
Boring!
He stood before the large table, gently raised his finger, and a flame burned at the bottom of the crucible. Clear water automatically emerged from the bottom of the crucible, bubbling out like a spring.
"Bone Spirit is one of the most common healing potions. I think you will come into a lot of contact with this potion during this Triwizard Tournament."
He rummaged through the herbs, found some medicinal materials, and casually tore them off a few times. He didn't strictly follow the cutting or grinding methods required for preparing medicinal herbs and just threw them directly into the crucible.
Then he looked at Hibiscus and said, "Raise your hands."
Furong was taken aback, not knowing what to do, but she still obediently raised her right hand.
Voldemort waved his wand lightly.
The raised right hand broke off at the elbow, the wizard's robe sleeve ripped, and the hand holding the wand, along with the forearm, fell onto the oath table with a thud.
Furong let out a piercing wail of pain, clutching her severed elbow and groaning in agony as the pain uncontrollably caused her to convulse on the ground.
"Ah~~~~"
"Stand up!"
Voldemort's voice was deep.
But Furong didn't hear clearly at all; the intense pain made her wish she could just faint right now.
"I told you to stand up!"
The reprimanding voice seemed to possess a magical power, carrying with it an unpleasant emotion, washing into Furong's mind and completely waking her up.
She clutched her severed arm in pain, struggling to get up little by little from the ground, looking utterly disheveled.
only----
She looked down in confusion and found that there was no bleeding from the broken part of her elbow, but rather a silvery cut.
"The Silver Knight's Slaying Curse is a spell invented by wizards to deal with their enemies."
Voldemort explained in a low voice, "It's called a knighthood because the wizard Salt, who invented this spell, considered it a spell imbued with chivalrous principles: benevolence, compassion, integrity, and not emphasizing acts of violence."
"Investigating the principles of this magic reveals that it uses a magical effect similar to a petrification spell, turning the wound into silver, which is enough to easily render the enemy powerless to resist, without causing any pain or torment to the wound."
"But the actual effect of this magic turned its stated purpose of ending killing and rejecting torture into a joke."
"The reason is phantom pain."
Voldemort stared intently at Fleur's severed arm wound. "When a human arm is severed by a sharp object, it causes intense pain; it's a basic life instinct."
"Exploring this knowledge of salt reveals that the sorcerer's knowledge of the salt of his own body is essentially a knowledge of the salt of his own soul."
He waved his wand lightly.
slap~
It was as if a whip had struck Cheng's severed hand on the table, instantly leaving a bloody welt.
"Ah~"
Furong couldn't help but cry out in pain again.
"Have you felt the oath?"
"The subtle relationship between body and soul."
This is a kind of understanding that is difficult to describe in words unless experienced firsthand.
Voldemort's approach seemed simple and brutal, but it was the only method he could think of. He wouldn't listen to reasoning alone, as Fleur's intelligence wouldn't translate into a fundamental understanding of magic.
It's fine as it is now.
I have personally experienced the vow.
"Hmm." Furong's face was terribly pale, covered in sweat and dust from when she fell to the ground, and she was trembling all over.
But she truly felt that inexplicable connection between her soul and body, and the so-called phantom pain.
"The reason why the potion 'Bone-Generating Spirit' works is based on this principle."
Voldemort flicked his wand, and the potion that had been brewed and prepared in the cauldron flew out, splitting into several streams in mid-air and landing in the glass bottles on the shelf.
"The soul possesses all the information about the body, including your innate bloodline and all the changes brought about by the life experiences you have sworn oaths to later in life; it is all there."
"Drink it."
"Try to use the power of your soul to activate the potion and make it work instantly."
"Just like I just said, open your mind to your soul and let it guide your magic, instead of you guiding and pushing it."
Strictly speaking, the function of the Bone-Generating Elixir is simply to regenerate bones, and it takes an extremely long time to achieve this.
Even if it's just a fracture or missing bone inside the arm, but the flesh is still intact, it still takes a whole night for the bones in one arm to heal completely.
The process was extremely long and painful.
"But that only lets the potion work its magic. You need to involve your soul power to make everything possible."
""
"This is what I was just talking about, the palm strike."
"Opening your mind doesn't mean letting things unfold naturally; that's too slow, and the results aren't always satisfactory. You need to take control of it."
"remember!"
Voldemort showed more patience towards the student, saying, "It's not you who's trying to make the potion work. Doing so will not only make the process extremely painful, but it will also bring some unpredictable consequences, such as the bones in your arms growing out of shape and even growing some strange-looking arms."
"It is you who push your soul, allowing your soul to burst forth with power to make the potion take effect."
"You can imagine it like this—"
"Treat the effects of Bone-Generating Spirit as cast iron."
"Your mind is everything, your will is a hand holding a cauldron, the potion is molten steel, and your soul is the mold."
"Fall down!"
"Then----"
And then the arm grew out little by little.
It happened very quickly; in less than ten seconds, an arm grew out.
"very good!"
Voldemort looked at her arm with satisfaction. "Now you have mastered the basics of the Cruciatus Curse and the fundamental principles of the Imperius Curse."
"Huh?" Fu Rong was still immersed in amazement at this miraculous scene when she suddenly heard Shi's words and couldn't help but exclaim in surprise.
"Is it strange?" Voldemort chuckled. "Exploring the mysteries between the soul and the body is the magical path of the so-called three Unforgivable Curses. Remember, magic has no good or bad, it is merely a tool, not your will."
"As for the Killing Curse (Killing Curse), this knowledge is not enough to even begin to grasp its threshold."
Furong opened her mouth, wanting to refute, wanting to resist, but in the end Muyao didn't say anything.
Voldemort clearly knew what the little witch was thinking. "I didn't intend to guide you to become a dark wizard; in fact, becoming a dark wizard" is not a good thing, of course, referring to the kind of dark wizard defined by those foolish and stereotypically malicious people."
"Always remember, magic is not your will; the effect you achieve through magic is your will."
"A true dark wizard is one who selectively accepts the influence of dark forces, embraces this power, and possesses this true power of a wizard."
"To be honest, at your current level, you're not even qualified to choose a magical path like a dark wizard."
"And those so-called dark wizards, those madmen whose souls have been corrupted by dark forces and whose personalities have been twisted—"
Voldemort looked at Fleur, "Come, tell me, why is this happening?"
Furong immediately had the answer: "Because they tried to control the magic of darkness with their own will, the more they tried to control it, the more they suffered its backlash, so their souls were eroded and their personalities were distorted."
"Yes!" Voldemort was very satisfied. It was clear that the apprentice had grasped what he was going to teach today, and his time had not been wasted. "These people, I do not consider them to be dark wizards, but rather patients who have been harmed by magic, that's all."
""
"So, whether you choose to become a dark wizard or not is none of my business."
"I want you to know that I have no interest in guiding you into the magical world of dark wizards. The effort required for that is beyond your imagination, unless you yourself crave that power and actively seek it out."
"Thank goodness, this is a tutorial specifically for spells!"
He was saying this to Dumbledore, who was secretly watching him from next door; otherwise, he wouldn't have bothered explaining so much to Fleur.
By the way, I'd like to criticize Dumbledore for categorizing all the crazy and mentally ill as dark wizards and then using stereotypes to mock us dark wizards. That's very impolite!
"Alright, get out of class dismissed!"
Voldemort walked straight towards the door. "Clean this place up. Remember, take your hands with you."
Mentioning this, he stopped and turned to look at Furong.
He added a final reminder: "Pay special attention to your own flesh and blood, even your hair. If you let it fall into someone else's hands, you'll only give them a handle to easily curse you to death. I hope that in the process of teaching you the science of cursing, you won't make this foolish mistake."
Doing something stupid in front of him is something he really can't stand.