"Bang."
Voldemort stepped out of the church and was met with a gunshot.
He had already raised a Shield Charm. The bullet sank into it without harming him.
"The Shield Charm. God may have invented it to stop the bullets of the wicked."
Voldemort said this to Angel. On his back, Angel stared wide-eyed. To her, everything was incredible.
"Avada Kedavra~~"
His wand twisted, and a jet of green light shot toward the place the gunshot had come from. A life went to meet God—or Satan. Who cared?
"Are you really an angel? Were you sent by God?" Angel asked.
"No, I'm a wizard. I don't believe in God."
Voldemort fired another Killing Curse. "Perhaps God is a powerful wizard, too. I'll have to meet him to confirm who he is."
"What does 'Avada Kedavra' mean? Can it make people faint?"
"It can't, Angela. It can only take a life. It's useless for anything else."
As Voldemort spoke, he kept moving, shooting another jet of green light.
"Bang."
A gunshot rang out from a corner. Someone had tried to ambush him, but the Shield Charm stopped it all the same.
"Can I become a wizard?" Angela asked.
"Probably not. If you had the talent, you wouldn't be here."
When he finished, Voldemort cast another Killing Curse.
This felt incredible. One living person after another was brought to an end. The feedback from the Dark Magic was an endless rush of darkness and wickedness, along with a pleasure that soaked right into his bones.
He enjoyed every moment of it. It made him happy.
I really am a bad person... he thought, casting another Killing Curse.
"Are all wizards this powerful?" Angela asked again.
"Of course not," Voldemort replied. "I'm the most powerful Dark wizard of the age. I'm the darkest