"It was no wonder Herpo valued you so highly. The speed at which your brain worked was utterly at odds with your not-very-bright appearance," Sean said cheerfully.
He wore the pure black robes Voldemort often wore, and evil Dark Arts fluctuations spilled from his entire body. If one ignored his face, anyone's first impression would have been that he was an evil Dark Wizard.
Andros's lips moved a few times, and his eyes quickly became lifeless. One of his left hands' souls had been sliced away. He had not been this man's match even at his peak, much less now.
There was no way he could escape. There was no need to waste his strength...
And besides, strength was secondary. What truly terrified him was the deep scheming of the boy before him.
The other party understood human nature too well. He also knew far too well how to destroy defenses and seize secrets.
Those deliberate acts of humiliation had been meant to make him lose his mind while infinitely magnifying his sense of helplessness.
A drowning man would do everything he could to grasp at the last straw, let alone when that "straw" was one of his own people.
To make him less suspicious, he had even used a so-called "sneak attack" and a "Binding Charm" as cover, along with tearing off his arm...
Pain, helplessness, humiliation, fury, longing... Countless emotions piled atop one another, leaving him with no reason to suspect that this Voldemort was an impostor.
Andros gave a miserable laugh, his voice filled with despair. "Including those spells that can affect the soul... You had developed them long ago, hadn't you? But you didn't use them when we met last time, all so you could wait for this moment... Heh heh, Voldemort truly is a Soul