"It seemed..." Voldemort said slowly, "you have finally made up your mind to put that plan into action?"
"I thought you were afraid—afraid that even this plan would be ruined by Wizet. That was why, after presenting it that day, you never dared mention it again."
Herpo fell silent. Voldemort's mockery had struck precisely at his deepest concern.
Voldemort was right. He truly was afraid.
He could not predict just what level Wizet's magic had reached by now.
After all, Wizet could now even cure Lycanthropy.
And according to the information he possessed, the potion capable of curing Lycanthropy cost only a quarter as much as Wolfsbane Potion.
Not to mention that Wizet had, intentionally or otherwise, overturned the Isaiah Society's various schemes several times.
It left him deeply uncertain. He constantly weighed when the right moment would come to exile Wizet into the river of time.
Everything that had occurred during the Paris Region Incident had dealt Herpo far too great a shock.
In his view, the plan Morgana le Fay had devised had already been flawless enough.
Yet even such a flawless plan had been destroyed by Wizet. Every countermeasure Morgana le Fay had prepared had also been dismantled by Wizet one by one, deepening Herpo's wariness of him.
Herpo was genuinely worried that, even if Wizet were successfully exiled, given enough time, he might still find some unimaginable way to escape.
Therefore, after Herpo formally entered into cooperation with Voldemort by laying out this plan, he had deliberately set it aside, waiting for a moment he considered absolutely foolproof.
Ideally, the plan would be carried out before My Lord descended, ensuring that even if Wizet escaped, he would not hinder My Lord's arrival.
"Herpo, I believe you should understand." Voldemort's icy voice rang out again.
"When you