"Little Shuraik, long time no see."
Voldemort took control of the body in an instant and looked toward the Vampire waiting to greet him.
Besides Little Shuraik, whom he knew, there was also an unfamiliar figure.
Voldemort curiously studied the figure's ears:
The ears angled forward, with the outer rims curving inward.
"This Vampire from the Monte Cristo Faction—I wonder what I should call you."
Voldemort asked, curiosity rising in his heart.
From the information he had obtained from Voldemort's Soul Fragment, he knew that Vampires had three factions:
Those whose ears angled backward and came to a point belonged to the Nosferatu Faction. They were the most Primal Bloodline, powerful and evil.
Those with large, rounded ears that angled forward belonged to the Dracula Faction. They had once followed the Nosferatu Faction and fought Muggles and wizards.
Those whose ears angled forward and curved inward belonged to the Monte Cristo Faction, also known as the modern faction. They lived in the Muggle world.
Of the three factions, Dracula was the mainstream one, and its members had plenty of dealings with the other two.
The Nosferatu Faction and the Monte Cristo Faction, however, looked down on each other.
The former thought the latter had lost the glory of the Vampires and lost its way in the Muggle world.
The latter thought the former was hidebound and destined to be abandoned by the world.
But now...
"His name is Blood Ni."
Little Shuraik smiled as he introduced him. "He happened to be visiting, and as one of our most honored guests, you naturally deserved a proper welcome."
Voldemort smiled and nodded. Without a trace of displeasure, he said, "I thought this was supposed to be a secret meeting."
Still smiling, he strode up the mountain, making no move to wait for the two to lead the way.
Little Shuraik shifted awkwardly, while Blood Ni looked utterly confused—he clearly didn't understand the clash between Voldemort and Count Nosferatu.
"My father asked me to send his regards. He has business elsewhere and can't make it back."
Little Shuraik hurried a few steps to catch up with the fast-striding Voldemort.
Great Shuraik, Count Nosferatu's son and Voldemort's closest friend in the Vampire faction, had chosen to avoid him.
"He's gradually losing the friendship between us. You can pass on my words plainly, without trying to soften them: when I was in trouble, he chose to stand by and do nothing. That was the wrong choice."
Voldemort's voice was low and authoritative. Hidden deep in his mind, Quirrell's soul trembled with excitement:
Look, look, look.
This is my master, the one I worship. This is my master, the one I revere.
He had set foot on majestic Mount Auricino as if inspecting his own territory, and, in front of a son, had mercilessly criticized his father, the heir to the Primal Bloodline—
And the son didn't dare talk back.
"Are you really Voldemort?"
"I mean... you don't look like him..."
Following behind them, Blood Ni seemed reluctant to let his friend be insulted. The words he spoke sounded somewhat thoughtless.
In fact...
They almost seemed deliberately offensive.
Voldemort stopped walking and glanced at the gray text in the lower-left corner.
He was hesitating, waiting...
"I don't mean to offend you, but our Monte Cristo faction has many friends in the Wizarding World. From what we've heard there, you've been confirmed dead. And now you look a little too young, and besides..."
The rambling words didn't stop just because Voldemort had halted.
In fact...
A Vampire's characteristic arrogance crept onto Blood Ni's face.
Just as he thought...
Count Nosferatu wasn't willing to help him easily, at least not before seeing his strength.
So, what should he do?
The pros and cons flashed through his mind, and he already had his answer.
"Darkest Hour."
Voldemort murmured softly, making Blood Ni fall silent.
The two Vampires stared at Voldemort's back in confusion. Then they saw it shudder, as if he were trembling.
Then...
A shadowy, pitch-black glow slowly rose from his back.
"Oh... Master... oh... my master..."
Quirrell's soul trembled inside his body.
Voldemort's soul, meanwhile, sank into endless darkness.
Ten years of struggle, ten years of pain, ten years of groveling...
In the darkness, it awakened.
When he opened his eyes again, they were filled with an eerie blackness.
"Whoosh."
Voldemort turned his head to look at the two Vampires.
"Gulp."
Under the gaze of those black eyes, they both swallowed hard.
"Death..."
"That's the taste of warm cheese..."
Voldemort murmured, slowly drawing his wand and carefully raising it. Then...
"Avada Kedavra!"
Amid Quirrell's soul's terrified, reverent wail, Voldemort unleashed the terrifying Dark Magic.
For an instant, the Alder wand gave a Unicorn's anguished cry, but the green curse didn't stop for its wailing.
The Unicorn tail hair that refused to be used for Dark Magic was forced to endure it all in agony.
The green flash streaked straight toward Blood Ni's forehead, filling him with terror.
At that moment, the horrified whispers of countless wizards rang out:
Voldemort is the most terrifying Dark wizard...
Never provoke the Dark Lord. Believe me, never...
He was born for Dark Magic—or perhaps Dark Magic was born for him...
"Dodge, Blood Ni, dodge..."
Little Shuraik screamed in terror. He had never imagined Voldemort would do something like this.
This was Mount Auricino, the Vampires' sacred Mount Auricino.
The mad Voldemort, the mad Killing Curse, the mad...
Blood Ni.
Little Shuraik's shout jolted Blood Ni out of his stupor, but faced with the rapidly approaching Killing Curse, he had no idea how to dodge it.
It looked as if someone was about to die.
"Smack."
A bat flew in from the side and blocked the Avada Kedavra, sacrificing its own life to save Blood Ni's.
"Dark Lord, are you going to slaughter everyone here?"
A cold voice accompanied a gaunt figure.
It was Count Nosferatu. His arrival let Little Shuraik, who had been holding his breath, exhale in relief. Blood Ni, still stunned, also recovered from his shock.
"Are you insane? Just because of something I said, you—"
"Avada Kedavra."
Without a change in expression or the slightest hesitation, Voldemort swung his wand again.
"Stop, Dark Lord!"
Count Nosferatu's voice was thick with fear. He swiftly transformed into a giant bat and dragged Blood Ni away—if he'd been half a second slower, he would have been dragging a corpse.
But that wasn't enough to make Voldemort stop.
Darkness had descended; the feast had begun.
The life of a single bat hardly counted as a feast.
"Whoosh."
He passed the wand to his left hand, quickly pulled a Revolver from his waist with his right, and raised it to chest level.
"Obstacle Charm!"
A wide-area spell shot out, slowing Count Nosferatu down.
"Bang, bang, bang, bang..."
A volley of Silver Bullets soaked in Holy Water poured out.
"Ah!"
Blood Ni's scream rang out. The giant bat returned to human form amid the magic, tore through the spell with his bare hands, and dragged Blood Ni away again.
"Clatter..."
The bullet casings fell to the ground at an angle. Voldemort watched the enemies' movements while flicking his wand to reload from a distance.
"One old Vampire and two young ones."
"The young ones don't matter. The old Vampire is the real problem. Even at my full strength... I'd have had no chance. But now..."
"The Alder wand is wailing. The Unicorn tail hair has reached 'death.' I don't have much time left."
"The magic in Quirrell's body isn't as abundant as I'd imagined..."
"In that case, I have no choice."
Countless thoughts surged through his mind almost instantly.
But they didn't affect his movements. Soon, the gun was reloaded.
"Darkest Hour..."
"Add Legilimency..."
As Voldemort made his decision, his thoughts immediately reached out, covering a hundred-meter radius.
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