Within Seven Steps, the Demoness's Blade Was Faster

Voldemort reacted swiftly, and his experience was exceptional.

Faced with the smoke and unknown danger, he didn't move around blindly. Instead, he casually waved his wand.

Harley didn't hear Voldemort cast a spell, but she felt a fierce wind spring up in the room, scattering the smoke.

At the same time, clusters of vicious black flames, seething with destruction and curses, burst from the tip of Voldemort's wand.

The flames mercilessly ignited every thread Harley had released, then coalesced into a giant serpent of fire that coiled around Voldemort.

"These little tricks are useless against me!" Voldemort's voice rang out, but Harley remained unmoved.

All Harley wanted now was to waste Voldemort's time and strength.

After forcibly taking over someone else's body, he had to be hampered in some way, especially if he went straight into battle. And before that, in the Forbidden Forest, Voldemort's aura had suddenly grown stronger, suggesting he'd used some kind of forbidden life-risking magic.

So Harley was quite certain Voldemort couldn't sustain a prolonged fight. His various despicable actions so far were probably meant to provoke her and make her lose her head.

So Harley retreated instead of advancing, sticking to hit-and-run tactics.

Seeing that Harley seemed intent on dragging the fight out, Voldemort grew somewhat anxious. He might have been a little mad, but he wasn't stupid.

It could be said that Voldemort was undoubtedly highly intelligent; he'd made it this far, after all.

For one thing, many of the Dark Magic spells Voldemort had invented were beyond even Dumbledore's understanding.

That was partly because each had their own area of expertise, but it was still enough to demonstrate Voldemort's intelligence.

So he had kept a close eye on the situation and clearly seen through the masked girl's intentions.

But what good did that do him? Earlier, in the Forbidden Forest, he'd been able to see through the girl's Disillusionment Charm.

But now, controlling Quirrell's body placed an enormous burden on his battered soul.

And the girl seemed to have improved her Disillusionment Charm even further, making it impossible for Voldemort to locate her in the short term.

Voldemort gritted his teeth and squeezed more life force out of the body. The Fiendfyre serpent exploded in an instant, spreading in every direction as it tried to engulf every corner of the room.

The flames at the doorway churned violently. Driven by the relentless attacks, Harley dispelled her invisibility and dashed out of the room.

Voldemort's face darkened, and he pursued her without hesitation.

He could already tell that he couldn't take the Philosopher's Stone from the Mirror of Erised in his current state.

And the unidentified girl in front of him might be the key to getting it. He had to catch her.

"You can't escape, little mouse!" Voldemort's voice rang out by Harley's ear again.

"Don't hope for Dumbledore to come to your rescue. I dared to hunt Unicorns tonight precisely because that old fool isn't here!

"So you're all alone tonight! Listen to me now, and I might spare your life and let you become a glorious Death Eater!

"You're so good at magic, you must be from one of the noble Pure-blood families. You're qualified to join the ranks of the Death Eaters!"

But Harley remained unmoved, continually laying down more and more threads of burning Black Flame behind her.

At the same time, seven black flames circled around Harley, spinning as they hurtled toward Voldemort.

Voldemort easily waved his wand, letting Fiendfyre burn through the layers of obstacles in front of him. These little tricks couldn't hurt him at all.

But they slowed Voldemort's advance considerably. Quirrell's body was already riddled with damage and incredibly fragile, and it couldn't match the agility Harley had gained from her Assassin Sequence enhancements.

Voldemort had never trained for running, either. When hunting others, he usually rode the wind. The magic left in this body couldn't withstand that kind of expenditure!

Voldemort's expression grew darker and darker. He seemed to have reached his limit.

Suddenly, he stopped and pointed his wand at Harley's retreating figure, as if he'd made a decision.

If he couldn't have her, he'd destroy her. Killing her was better than letting her report him to the professors.

"Avada Kedavra!"

A dazzling green flash streaked through the air, crossing the short distance in an instant and heading straight for Harley's back.

Harley's Spirituality went into an immediate frenzy, warning her that death was coming.

She reacted in time, her hair growing wildly and shielding her from behind in an attempt to block the spell.

But Harley had miscalculated. The spell took effect the moment it touched her hair.

The instant she came into contact with it, Harley felt as if she'd plunged into a block of ice.

She seemed to have returned to years ago, when she'd explored the tomb of a high-ranking expert on the Death Pathway. She'd experienced this sensation then.

Harley fell forward as the Magic Mirror Substitute activated automatically, making her disappear from where she stood. A shattered mirror took her place.

As soon as Voldemort saw the spell hit the back of the girl's head, he turned away without looking back.

He could sense that there was no life nearby, and he was confident that the power of his Killing Curse could slaughter anything.

Except for that inexplicable Harley Potter!

Voldemort returned to the Mirror of Erised and stood before it, frowning.

He didn't dare smash through this obstacle by brute force as he had the others. The Philosopher's Stone was probably inside the mirror; if he broke it, all his effort would be wasted.

After casting several more spells with no effect, Voldemort began to lose patience.

Previously, out of caution, he'd only let Quirrell scout out the Unicorns' whereabouts and wound one, allowing himself to obtain a limited amount of Unicorn blood.

Tonight, Dumbledore had suddenly left the school for some unknown reason, so Voldemort had dared to order Quirrell to kill a Unicorn in the Forbidden Forest and let him drink his fill.

But though Dumbledore was gone, someone else had been watching. And that useless Quirrell had even let them see his face.

So Voldemort had no choice but to grit his teeth, take over Quirrell's body, and attempt to steal the Philosopher's Stone before he was ready.

He still hadn't gathered a great deal of information, and he didn't know when Dumbledore would return. Every second was precious.

Voldemort finally made up his mind. He'd simply carry the mirror away!

After all, he was using Quirrell's body. Who would know that the Dark Lord had done such a thing?

He walked over to the mirror. Lord Voldemort certainly wouldn't do it himself; magic was the best tool.

But Voldemort needed to inspect the mirror one more time, just in case.

He placed both hands on the frame and was about to cast a spell when he saw a girl in the mirror whom he'd never seen there before.

He seemed to have seen her only in Defense Against the Dark Arts class.

She was that Harley Potter, the one who supposedly defeated him.

Why was she here?

Several thoughts flashed through Voldemort's mind. Before he could react, a sharp pain pierced his chest.

He lowered his head and saw a slender, jade-white hand clutching a dinner knife wreathed in Black Flame, plunged into his chest.

Blood trickled down slowly, though not much of it flowed out. Most of it had already been used by Voldemort to exchange for power.

Before he lost consciousness, a playful voice rang out: "Lord Voldemort, within seven steps, the Demoness's blade is faster!"