Voldemort's handsome face twisted as his brows knotted together. His nostrils flared beneath his high, straight nose, opening and closing with anger, and the flesh on his cheeks twitched until his face looked warped and savage. He absolutely could not let the other man reveal that method of spelling it!
With that single thought filling his mind, Voldemort raised his hand without thinking and sent out a jet of green light—but he immediately regained his reason. Every muscle in his body tensed, ready to dodge the Avada Kedavra he expected the other man to reverse back at him.
But Allen seemed stunned. Terror spread across his face as he sat dumbstruck against the sofa, and the green light struck him squarely in the chest.
"Ow!"
Allen toppled backward and slumped onto the sofa, the contorted expression of pain still frozen on his face.
"Master!" the guard cried in delight. "You did it!"
Voldemort merely sucked in a sharp breath, the taut string in his mind seeming to snap. Allen Harris's strength was already so overwhelming that it had formed an absolute advantage over him, and a heavy sense of helplessness rose from the depths of his heart.
"That was close. Still, having the spell hit me does hurt quite a bit."
Allen's voice left the cheering guard frozen in place again, as if he had been hit by a Petrification Curse. Only then did Allen put away the exaggerated look of terror on his face and smile at Tom. During his previous duel with Old Tom, he had successfully predicted that the more powerful Dark Lord's stronger Killing Curse could only injure him. He had not risked testing it at the time, but today, with this young Tom casting it, he had simply treated it as an experiment. The result