Ezio Was Such an Upright Person, He'd Never Use the Unforgivable Curses to Do Evil (5K4)

Someone as upright as Ezio would never use the Unforgivable Curses to do anything evil.

That was what Dumbledore thought, so he nodded and agreed to Ezio's perfectly reasonable request. After all, the target was Voldemort. There was no one in the Wizarding World more deserving of it.

In a way, going after Voldemort was the ultimate form of political correctness. It was just that few people dared to do it. As it happened, Dumbledore had met someone who did.

He even had the leisure to watch, if only to make sure nothing went wrong.

There was nowhere less likely to be disturbed than Hogwarts' Headmaster's Office, so that was where they conducted the spell tests. The school's former headmasters gathered to watch. Among them, Headmaster Phineas Nigellus Black stared widest-eyed of all. He suddenly remembered his own days as headmaster of Hogwarts. The scene before him felt eerily familiar, but Ezio was even bolder than that little brat had been. The man was completely lawless!

Ezio himself didn't care. According to the Creed of the Assassins, if an assassination couldn't be carried out, there was nothing wrong with storming in through the front door and taking on everyone inside. Either way, it was a perfect assassination with no witnesses. As long as the result was right, nothing else mattered.

Had he achieved his goal?

He had.

Would Dumbledore expel him from Hogwarts for it?

He wouldn't.

Then it was a perfect solution to the problem. Dumbledore wasn't some bleeding heart. He'd only gone after Voldemort because he had no choice: he was the only one who could deal with the trouble. And until Voldemort was killed by Harry, Dumbledore had never actually done much.

Otherwise, while Voldemort was running rampant, he wouldn't have stayed at Hogwarts to study the Deathly Hallows, leaving the Order of the Phoenix to fight the Death Eaters to the death. Nor would he have borrowed the Invisibility Cloak when James Potter needed it more than he did. Dumbledore wasn't entirely selfless. He had his own ideas and things he wanted to do. It was just that, by coincidence, he'd accomplished things that other people thought were grand and righteous.

A person's achievements weren't due solely to their own abilities. In the saying "great times make great heroes," the times were the most important part. The hero was just an added bonus.

Dumbledore hoped Ezio was a good person. So rather than let him go and risk things getting out of hand, he'd rather keep him here. At least that way, he could keep him steady. If Ezio turned bad someday in the future, what would it matter to an old man like himself, who was practically on his deathbed?

Dumbledore stood silently to one side, his heart full of complicated emotions. Ezio drew his wand and pointed its tip at the Horcrux Diadem.

"Crucio."

Ezio murmured the incantation in a calm voice. The spell's invisible force surged from his wand. All three Unforgivable Curses required a certain strength of will from the caster. The more resolute one's determination, the more powerful the magic. These spells were closely tied to emotion, and that was why they were considered cruel. To unleash the Cruciatus Curse to its fullest, one needed a powerful desire to make the victim wish they were dead.

When it came to malice, Ezio might have been a little "weak." He didn't consider taking someone's life, controlling their mind, or tormenting their will to be "inhuman" emotions. Nor did he experience any so-called thrill of slaughter. These were simply measures he could use when necessary to achieve his goals. He didn't consider them "evil."

Yet his indifference to life and to other people was a terrifying force, one that the malice of an ordinary wizard could hardly match.

It was so powerful that the Cruciatus Curse bored into the magic protecting the Horcrux like a drill, steadily penetrating and breaking through!

After a brief stalemate, the indifference that surpassed malice touched the soul hidden within the Horcrux!

Black liquid seeped from the jewels in the diadem. Twisted black mist gathered into a human face!

A hysterical scream burst from the mouth of the contorted face!

It writhed. The fragment of Voldemort's soul inside the diadem writhed. The black mist swirled like someone rolling on the ground in agony. No longer able to form a distinct shape, the mist twisted without end. Ear-piercing screams and heart-rending wails echoed through Hogwarts' Headmaster's Office.

But Ezio, the one who had caused it all, simply watched with a calm expression. He controlled his magic and his will at the same time, weighing what approach would make the Cruciatus Curse more powerful in that moment.

Wanting to kill someone doesn't make the Cruciatus Curse more powerful. After all, this spell isn't meant to kill. But simply wanting the victim to suffer and feel tormented doesn't seem to increase its power much, either...

Ezio pondered for a moment. Oh. Maybe I should do this... I should show that I enjoy and take pleasure in watching this pain and struggle.

"Ah!"

Ezio let out an exclamation as inspiration struck, then smiled faintly. "I get it."

He stopped casting, and the anguished soul's screams ceased.

"What... do you get?" Dumbledore had been watching Ezio closely. When he saw the boy appear to realize something, he couldn't help but frown slightly.

"The more you enjoy the pain and screams of the thing you're torturing, the better the Cruciatus Curse works. In other words, the more twisted you are, the more effective the curse becomes."

Ezio picked at his ear. "I can confirm that's how it works, but honestly, I can't say I appreciate it. If you aren't torturing someone to get information, there's no practical point to it. Only a twisted lunatic would find pleasure in savoring someone else's pain."

"The wizard who invented this spell must have been bored. Probably a pervert. There are so many ways to interrogate someone. Torture is the worst option."

Ezio spoke without much interest. After testing it in practice, he didn't think highly of the Cruciatus Curse. It had some practical value, but not much.

"I'd rather use Veritaserum. Even someone skilled in Occlumency can't resist its powerful effects. That's what's truly practical: quick and efficient."

"The only downside is that brewing Veritaserum is too difficult. It's even more troublesome than Felix Felicis. I still haven't learned how to make it. Such a shame."

Ezio smacked his lips. He really wished Snape would teach him something useful. But he could only get those things from Snape through Harry. They certainly weren't taught in textbooks. Veritaserum was a highly restricted substance; out of a thousand Potion-makers, perhaps not even one knew the recipe. And even if they did, they might not be skilled enough to brew it.

Harry's value to him wasn't limited to being a Horcrux. Snape was another factor. After all, Harry had thoroughly offended Snape before he even started school. Without using his head, it would be hard to pry any treasures out of him.

"Next, let's try the Imperius Curse. But it seems that people with strong wills can resist this spell through sheer force of will. I wonder how it'll work."

"Imperio."

The tip of his wand glimmered briefly, then the light sank into the diadem.

No black mist appeared, and no liquid seeped out. The soul hidden in the Horcrux remained unmoved. This spell carried no torment; it simply pressured the will, then forced its target to do what the caster wanted.

"The strength of the Imperius Curse depends on the caster's magical power," Dumbledore said softly from the side. He understood the Unforgivable Curses, though he rarely used them. With his own magical abilities, he had little need for any of the three.

"Tom was one of the most magically talented people I've ever met. He was exceptionally gifted in both Dark Magic and magical power. Even though the Horcrux contains only a fragment of his soul, it still possesses plenty of magic. A wizard's magical power grows over time, and continues to grow until they're seventeen. That's why seventeen is the age of adulthood in the Wizarding World."

"So my magic is too weak right now?"

"You're already very talented," Dumbledore said, shaking his head. "Even the Cruciatus Curse can't be cast without enough magic. The greatest difference between the Unforgivable Curses and other spells is that they originated from advanced curse magic. They're more primitive than the Standard Book of Spells, and so they're more powerful. But they also require more magical power from the wizard."

"But I don't feel like I'm using much magic." Ezio was rather puzzled. Magic existed in this world, but he'd never felt as if he had a mana bar. Even when he practiced magic intensely, he'd never run out and found himself unable to cast a spell.

"That's because magic flows into your body every second, replenishing what you use. But if your magical capacity is too limited, it can be difficult to bring certain spells to their full potential."

Dumbledore explained, "The concentration of magic varies from place to place around the world. The places where wizards and magical creatures gather tend to be rich in magic. Hogwarts is especially so. That's why you don't feel your magic being depleted at school."

"So a wizard's spells are restricted only in places where magic is scarce, right?"

"There aren't many places like that, either. Magic exists in every corner of the world. There is no place completely devoid of it. Only large alchemical arrays and devices are affected by the concentration of magic in their surroundings. Wizards don't notice much of a difference."

"I understand." Ezio nodded. So magic in this world wasn't very costly, and wizards naturally recovered it at a very high rate. Only the products of Alchemy were limited by it.

"Professor Dumbledore, would you like to try? Perhaps someone with your great magical power could draw some clues out of this Horcrux. No one knows better than Voldemort himself where the Horcruxes are hidden."

"I think that would be very difficult." Dumbledore shook his head slightly. He wasn't some ordinary wizard who didn't know how to use the Imperius Curse. In fact, he knew those spells better than most wizards. "The Horcruxes are the secret Voldemort least wants exposed. Immortality is his strongest desire, and the Imperius Curse is a spell that can be resisted through sheer will. I may have more magical power than the fragment of Tom's soul, but that doesn't mean I can overpower his will and make him reveal his greatest secret."

"But it's worth a try."

Perhaps he'd thought of something, because Dumbledore finally drew his wand. Its color was somewhat similar to the one Ezio held, made of Elder Wood and Phoenix Feather: many-knotted and dark gray, with a lustrous coating that looked almost like patina.

Unlike Ezio's earlier attempt, the instant Dumbledore touched the diadem with his wand, some black mist—the sign of Voldemort's soul—began to seep out. It trembled without pause. The White Wizard King's powerful magic completely suppressed it in an instant. The Imperius Curse seized control of the fragment, forcing it to reveal the secret it most desperately wanted to keep.

But as Dumbledore had just said, the Imperius Curse could be resisted through sheer will. You could say Voldemort was narrow-minded, a terrorist on a village scale, a madman with a screw loose. But you couldn't call him weak or say he lacked dreams and ambition. His talent for Dark Magic was among the best in the world.

The curse on the Horcrux ring, which had left Dumbledore gravely injured in the original story and forced Snape to keep it temporarily under control with potions, had been cast when Voldemort was only fifteen or sixteen. His talent for Dark Magic was astonishing. At least when it came to curses, Ezio didn't think he could do better than Voldemort.

And Voldemort, who had decided to pursue immortality not long after entering the magical world and made it his lifelong dream, had a will on this matter that could not be doubted.

Dumbledore shook his head slightly, his expression calm. He wasn't surprised by the result.

"Looks like we can only move on to the final test."

Since they couldn't get the information they wanted from the Horcrux, destroying it was the final step.

When he saw Ezio preparing to test the Killing Curse, Dumbledore's expression grew much more serious. He wanted to stop Ezio from conducting the final test. His instincts told him it wouldn't be a good idea. Ezio's earlier display of murderous intent and indifference toward life had shaken him. He'd never seen such purity before. That purity turned what should have been classified as "evil"—the will to kill—into something... something that aroused no revulsion, yet still made one want to keep one's distance.

It was like some kind of holy sacrifice, offering warm blood amid flawless white light, imbued with a strange, sacred quality.

He had never felt such a bizarre contradiction in anyone or anything. Perhaps, just as Ezio had said, it was something he'd been born with. He had been born with a power of death that demanded reverence.

That curiosity made Dumbledore abandon any thought of warning him. He stood silently to one side, waiting for Ezio to act.

"Avada..." Ezio's lips moved, but he didn't finish the incantation. He wasn't hesitating. The first time he'd used the Killing Curse, he'd felt something special. Something familiar, as if the spell were an extension of his own limbs. Just as Harry had mastered Expelliarmus, Ezio had mastered the Killing Curse.

Green light gathered at the tip of his wand. The shapeless, formless glow changed, and dark green crystals appeared at the wand's point. This was how a spell looked when it was being solidified. Like living scales, thin green crystals quickly wrapped around the wand made of Elder Wood and Phoenix Feather. The magic of death seeped through it, as if it had caught the scent of something it found utterly captivating and was greedily drawing something in.

This was the first time Ezio had encountered anything like it, but his instincts told him the deathly magic wouldn't harm him. It was like a puppy clinging to its master, begging and fawning for a delicious treat.

"So this is what you want."

Ezio suddenly smiled. He knew there were many spells that used emotion as their driving force, such as the Patronus Charm. The Killing Curse likewise required a firm intention to kill something, as well as—an innate desire to kill.

"If that's what you want, then have it."

In that instant, the hairs on Dumbledore's arms stood on end. He only had time to raise his hand. Before he could speak, the vision surging from Ezio filled his entire field of view.

Scarlet blood covered the ground. Thick blood flowed slowly like a river. Its icy warmth rose past his ankles, wrapped around his calves, and climbed up his body! The chill of death and the warmth of life intertwined!

He looked up. Countless pure, flawless white skulls had formed a towering, majestic pyramid. Tens of thousands, hundreds of thousands, millions of corpses piled together to create a breathtaking spectacle!

The astonishing and terrifying purity of death seemed to dazzle the eyes and draw the soul out of its body, sending it soaring toward the heights, higher and higher, toward the very top!

At the end of the staircase paved with bones stood a grim throne. A figure whose face could not be seen sat upon it, utterly indifferent. In the sky behind them, countless tormented souls writhed and coiled, woven together into a boundless land that stretched endlessly across the heavens.

A point of green light appeared. The figure on the Throne of Bones raised his right hand. A dark green branch seemed to come alive. It trembled with excitement and shrieked with delight. As its green light reached into the sky, the tormented dead surged into it. Their eyes—confused, resentful, unwilling, or numb—turned toward the figure on the throne. The only response they received was his empty, indifferent gaze. He had never paid them any mind, not for even a moment.

The living green light cheered and leaped with joy, then devoured the tormented dead who had become a continent in the heavens, without ever knowing fullness—until the sky revealed its azure blue, scattering pure, flawless white light. Its sacred radiance illuminated the boundless river of blood, staining the spectacle of bones with a pure, holy crimson.

Dumbledore staggered backward a few steps, his back hitting a tall cabinet. The fleeting vision vanished in an instant. Had it not been so vivid and shocking, he might have thought he'd had a waking nightmare in the middle of the day.

"What's wrong, Professor Dumbledore?"

Ezio glanced at Dumbledore in puzzlement.

"Nothing..." Dumbledore shook his head, coming back to himself. "I'm just old. I'm a little unsteady on my feet."

"You'll surely live for centuries." Ezio smiled faintly. Even without the Philosopher's Stone, wizards could use other methods to live a long time. Armando Dippet, the last headmaster of Hogwarts, had been headmaster when he was over two hundred. By comparison, Dumbledore, who was only a little over a hundred, was still young.

There was no blinding green flash. Ezio's wand, now covered in a deep green layer, lightly touched Ravenclaw's Diadem. Black mist burst out, and Voldemort's human form gathered and rose within it. Then it broke into countless fragments and vanished completely.

There were no wails or screams. His fragment of soul died in silence.