The dark green light illuminated the entire room.
Magic that symbolized death surged violently.
Two powerful currents of magic intertwined and tore at each other in midair, forming a brief yet dazzling vortex of energy that shredded the surrounding air and let out a piercing howl. The light in the underground chamber became exceptionally distorted at that moment, as if the wails of countless souls slain by the Killing Curse could be heard.
Facing Voldemort, who had somehow suddenly returned to life and regained his magic under the nourishment of the Philosopher's Stone—his strength perhaps not fully restored to its peak, but still undoubtedly far beyond that of other wizards—Ian chose to meet him head-on. He wielded the equally vast magic within him and began a contest of strength with Voldemort.
The Young Wizard knew that the scales of victory would only tip in his favor.
There were countless possibilities in Destiny, but not a single one involved him losing to Voldemort—this was the confidence a wizard ought to possess the moment he raised his wand.
Of course.
To be safe, Ian had already applied a debuff to Voldemort using Voldemort's own family, causing the "Wizard Gene" within him to be continuously suppressed, weakened, and lulled into dormancy by the potion.
"To be honest, I've wanted to try this for a long time... Just how much gold content does the so-called Dark Lord Voldemort actually have beneath all that fame?" Ian's voice carried a trace of excitement.
Despite how dangerous the scene appeared, he showed not the slightest fear.
"You little thing, don't you know that no wizard in this world can speak my name aloud?" Voldemort's voice turned icy as he increased the Magic Power Output flowing into his wand.
Although Ian's potion had affected him and the activity