Curse Training, New Occupation: Dark Lord

"Dueling Club."

In the Room of Requirement, Quirrell stood before Tom, the Dark Mark on his wrist faintly stinging.

The Dark Mark had a simple communication function.

Following Tom's orders, Quirrell had used his professor status to borrow a stack of books from the library. Afterward, Tom granted him permission to use the Dark Mark to come to his side.

"Yes."

Quirrell set down the book he was holding, casting a curious sidelong glance at this unfamiliar room while reporting the latest intelligence.

"Dumbledore has issued a notice, hoping I can organize a Dueling Club for students of all grades to engage in practical combat, so they can handle sudden crises in the future."

"So sudden?" Tom was somewhat surprised.

Wasn't the Dueling Club supposed to be hosted by Lockhart next year? Why was it happening now?

Could it be related to his own nighttime wanderings?

"It seems Professor Snape was attacked by Death Eaters last night. The Ministry of Magic investigated all day but found no trace at all. To prevent any accidents with the students, this strategy was adopted."

Quirrell felt only confusion.

He remembered he hadn't done anything last night. Could there be a second Death Eater in the school besides himself?

More than two.

Strictly speaking, there were currently four Death Eaters hiding inside Hogwarts.

"Ahem, forget that for now." Tom suddenly spoke, slowly saying, "Quirrell, I'm giving you a new task now."

Quirrell immediately adopted an attentive posture.

"I need you to teach me magic, primarily offensive spells."

With the Dueling Club imminent, he had to do something—perhaps he could advance the plan that was originally set for a year later.

"Huh? Me? Teach you, Lord Voldemort?" Quirrell's face showed disbelief.

An ordinary wizard like him, teaching the legendary great Voldemort, who rivaled Dumbledore?

"Are you really my original body? How can a spell need a waste to teach?"

The back of Quirrell's head asked.

Ever since splitting his soul, Voldemort's intelligence and emotional quotient had declined along with his appearance.

Though he relied on Quirrell to survive, his words were full of belittlement, one after another. Wasn't he afraid Quirrell would snap?

"This is a side effect of replacing this new body." Tom said helplessly.

He was about to start putting on an act. Since his transmigration, he'd been playing a role almost every day.

Far from home, his identity was something he gave himself.

"This new body of mine was created by modifying a Muggle's body. Although I successfully revived after death, because of the Muggle vessel, I've almost forgotten all magical knowledge. The Dark Mark has a special connection with me. After using it too many times, the instinct to cast spells has been etched into my soul."

"Is that so?"

Though Quirrell and Voldemort were somewhat surprised, they didn't doubt the truth of Tom's words at all.

The Dark Mark was a composite curse combining "life detection, long-range communication, mind perception, and pain punishment." Even the Ministry of Magic had spent ten years unable to analyze its secrets.

But Tom had previously cast the Dark Mark silently without a wand—that was definitely the level of a spell master.

His physical strength was also eerily strong.

Tom's explanation now cleared up many doubts in both their minds.

[Friendliness (Lv.2): Your words and demeanor make people feel relaxed and warm, making it easier to gain favor and trust in conversation.]

Quirrell and Voldemort—one a two-faced coward, the other with a shattered soul and a life flickering like a candle in the wind.

Two people who were extremely weak naturally fell more easily under the influence of the Persona.

"But... Lord Voldemort, am I really capable of teaching you?" Quirrell was very unconfident.

As a former top student, he knew exactly how terrible his teaching skills were.

He couldn't even teach children, let alone the legendary Voldemort.

Slap!

Tom gently placed his hand on Quirrell's shoulder and said softly, "Have confidence. You're a 'genius in theoretical defensive magic,' an outstanding graduate rehired by Dumbledore right after graduation. You've just been in a bad state lately."

"But..."

Quirrell wanted to say more.

"What? Are you doubting the judgment of the greatest Dark Lord and White Dark Lord of this century?"

"No, no, of course I wouldn't dare."

[Friendliness +10 progress]

"Lord Voldemort, let's start with the basic spells."

Flicking his wand, Tom shot a red light at a wooden dummy, which instantly shattered into pieces.

Diffindo.

Tom's expression remained unchanged as he then sent a white light toward the scattered wood shavings.

Reparo, Floating Charm, Release Charm...

A variety of magical lights completely enveloped the dummies.

With each spell cast, Quirrell silently observed, then offered Tom advice, helping him refine and eliminate redundant or erroneous parts of his casting, making his spellwork smoother than before.

Magic is a power of will, and wizards are inherently creatures of will as well.

Once the heart dies, a wizard's strength can stagnate and rapidly decline.

But if confidence can be rebuilt in the depths of despair, there might be a chance for recovery.

Having been subjected to Tom's talk therapy, Quirrell was noticeably more confident. Not only was his mind sharper, but his stutter was gone, and his state was worlds apart from how he'd been during class.

For a moment, Tom almost felt he was seeing the Ravenclaw theory prodigy from days past.

"Lord Voldemort, there are three points to note when using Expelliarmus: focus, resolve, and a stable center of gravity."

After hearing the explanation, Tom flicked his wrist.

Expelliarmus!

Diffindo!

Floating Charm!

Three streaks of magical light flew out in succession, striking a wooden dummy clad in iron armor one after another.

The dummy was first disarmed, then its chest shattered, and finally, it was lifted high by the Floating Charm and slammed hard into the ground, instantly becoming a twisted pile of fragments.

If that had been a person, they'd be dead by now.

"Was my talent this good before?" Voldemort wondered doubtfully.

At the start of practice, Tom could barely cast Expelliarmus at all, but in just one afternoon, he achieved a perfect success rate, and even managed to chain together a smooth combo.

Well, that made sense—Tom was his original self after all.

The original had merely forgotten his past magical knowledge; as someone who had learned it once, relearning it would naturally be faster.

With that in mind... should he pass on all the dark magic knowledge in his head to the original?

If the original rose quickly, he, as a Horcrux, could bask in the reflected glory.

Maybe then he could even break free and have the original craft a similar body for himself.

"Hmm, lunch break is almost over. Let's call it here for today." Tom steadied his slightly dizzy head.

His body had grown stronger through [Innate Divine Strength], and his mental fortitude had improved as well.

But half an hour of continuous high-intensity spellcasting had inevitably left him a bit fatigued.

He'd need to rest a while with [Laziness] to have enough energy for the afternoon classes.

As he parted ways with Quirrell on the staircase, Tom glanced at his panel.

He noticed it had changed, especially the Occupation section.

[Name]: Tom Marvolo Riddle

[Occupation]: Hogwarts First-Year Student, Dark Lord

"Dark Lord... an occupation?" Tom was taken aback.

The occupation slot was the most confusing feature on his panel.

After enrolling at Hogwarts, the original [Elementary Student] had changed to [Hogwarts First-Year Student].

But neither occupation seemed to have any effect.

Tom had initially thought the occupation slot was useless, but this new occupation that had just appeared seemed different. Previous occupations were plain white text on a black background, but the new one was bold and red.

[Dark Lord (Occupation): A charismatic and excellent ruler, capable of using a portion of the Death Eaters' abilities.]