Good evening, Mr. No-Nose

After making her final decision, Harley's body burst into Black Flame, and she swiftly passed through the black fire burning on the door ahead.

The room before her seemed to be the last one. Its furnishings were simple; the empty room had no decorations at all.

Only a magnificent full-length mirror stood in the very center of the room: the Mirror of Erised Harley had seen before.

The figure in the black cloak stood before the mirror, pointing a wand at it and muttering something.

The scene looked perfectly normal, if one ignored the face growing out of the back of the figure's head—a face belonging to Professor Quirrell.

Harley instinctively pressed herself against the wall, hoping to disappear into the shadows, but she was a little too late.

The figure turned around to look at the person at the door. His face came into Harley's view.

Looking at that face, Harley immediately felt sick.

Having seen the handsome men and beautiful women among the nobility of various kingdoms, and being a charming Demoness herself, Harley had always been a real beauty enthusiast.

But that face was hideous and terrifying, its complexion deathly pale, with bright silver Unicorn blood clinging to the corners of its mouth.

His blood-red eyes were narrow, like a snake's. Beneath them were long, slender nostrils like a snake's. He had no nose.

That face was an Error simply by virtue of existing, and a cruel sight to behold up close.

But Harley felt the face looked familiar, as though she had seen it somewhere before. Of course, a fight could break out at any moment, so she didn't take the time to think it over.

"Well, well, a little mouse has come to visit!" the face said mockingly in a hoarse, icy voice like a snake's.

"Good evening, Mr. No-Nose." Harley didn't back down, replying in an intentionally respectful tone.

She lifted her hands as if raising the hem of a nonexistent skirt, then clasped them behind her back.

"Hah! A sharp-tongued brat! How dare you speak to the great Dark Lord that way!"

Harley immediately realized that if this man wasn't lying, he had to be Voldemort, the Dark Lord who had cast a shadow over the Wizarding World of Britain for so long—and who had killed her parents.

But hadn't Voldemort already died? No, wait. The book hadn't explicitly used the word "death." It had said he lost his powers.

Harley's mind raced, and her vigilance rose another notch. If the man before her really was the Dark Lord, she had to be even more careful.

Voldemort didn't care what Harley was thinking. He was far too arrogant to bother trying to understand the thoughts of a younger student.

"...You should be grateful for the Dark Lord's mercy. He didn't kill you straightaway!" Voldemort threatened in a hollow voice.

"But if you want to live, I think you, little mouse, should do something for the great Dark Lord.

"Like taking something out of this mirror. Now that I think about it, that old thief Dumbledore really is cunning..."

Voldemort rambled on to himself, and Harley was happy to have him give her time to prepare.

Earlier, on her way to the fourth floor, Harley had left all the materials she wouldn't need in an abandoned bathroom on the third floor.

She had brought only a small waist pouch containing several bottles of commonly used hydrosol, two small pieces of Beyonder Characteristic, and all of her Magic Mirrors and wands.

Now, Harley kept rubbing her hands together behind her back, carefully applying the hydrosol.

She had developed this method of performing quick rituals herself. It let her produce the effects of certain rituals even in the middle of a fight.

The results weren't particularly good, but they were better than nothing.

Voldemort finally finished his long-winded speech, then fixed his gaze on Harley. "Come! It is your honor to sacrifice yourself for the Dark Lord!"

"But, Mr. No-Nose Dark Lord." Harley's little face flushed, her cherry-colored lips parting and closing, giving her the air of someone pleasantly tipsy.

She spoke in a pitiful voice. "I'm so scared! Could you please not make me do something so dangerous?"

As she spoke, Harley's eyes grew damp, filling with tears as though she were about to cry from fear. An inexplicable atmosphere began to build in the air.

Voldemort's emotions were stirred in an instant. For a moment, he felt like a monster for wanting to hurt such a pitiful girl.

But Voldemort had survived countless battles. He immediately realized that this was some kind of magic that interfered with emotions, and used Occlumency to forcibly resist Harley's ability.

But the second he spent distracted was already enough for Harley to attack.

Voldemort felt his arms and legs tighten at once, as though countless invisible threads had wrapped around him.

At the same time, Harley made a throwing motion. Four Ice Spears coalesced out of thin air behind her and shot fiercely toward Voldemort.

Harley also threw a berry at Voldemort, her face twisting with pain.

"Bribery—Weakening!" "Distortion—Amplify!"

Enduring the pain in her head, Harley forcibly used the corrupted Beyonder Characteristic of the Baron of Corruption, making use of the Briber's Bribery ability and the Baron of Corruption's Distortion ability.

Thanks to the physical prowess and keen eyesight the Assassin had granted her, Harley hurled the berry with precision into Voldemort's mouth, making the "Bribery" take effect.

Voldemort immediately felt as though some kind of magic had been placed on him. His strength hadn't diminished, but something felt off.

At the same time, the four Ice Spears were strengthened in every way by "Distortion." Their chill was so intense that the moisture in the air began to condense.

Voldemort seemed about to be pierced through by the spears!

But he managed to defend himself at that very moment.

A silver shield appeared out of thin air and blocked the four Ice Spears.

A low sound, like fingernails scraping across a chalkboard, rang out as the shield stopped the spears. Deep marks were left on the shield, however.

Voldemort's expression darkened at once. "Damn Quirrell, what a useless fool! I'm even burning through my life force, and I'm still struggling this much in a fight!"

Clearly, he blamed his disadvantage on the uselessness of Quirrell's body.

Harley wasn't disappointed that her attack had failed to land. She hadn't expected to take Voldemort down in one round. At the very least, the Bribery ability had taken effect.

For some time to come, Voldemort would be weakened to a certain extent whether he attacked Harley or defended against her attacks.

But that wasn't enough. It was nowhere near enough to kill a seriously injured demigod.

Harley had already turned invisible, doing her best to hide in the dim room.

She threw a short Ice Spear at the magical flames on the ceiling, hoping to plunge the room into darkness and give her a greater advantage with her dark vision.

She cast the Smoke Spell again, but this time not to escape. She wanted to obstruct both their vision as much as possible.

After all, Harley had regained her ability to release Spider Silk.

At some point, the room had filled with visible and invisible threads. Some were as sharp as steel wires, while others snapped at the slightest touch.

In this situation, Voldemort would have a hard time detecting Harley's position and might even injure himself without realizing it. But Harley could easily determine where Voldemort was.

At the same time, Harley stepped silently along the threads, drawing closer to Voldemort and trying to slash his throat.

The situation seemed to be shifting in Harley's favor. Voldemort looked utterly helpless.

If only that were true.

(Thanks to Nine-Tailed Flame Fox for the tip!)

(Thanks to Nanachi the Fluffy for the tip!)