Voldemort's Fury, Transfiguration

Voldemort scoffed when he saw Lucien raise a Muggle weapon.

Voldemort's early experiences gave him an understanding of Muggle life, and he was naturally familiar with pistols and their power.

Voldemort knew he didn't need to hide or find cover; he simply added several layers of Protego and Impedimenta around himself.

Even if Lucien conjured more powerful Muggle firearms, they wouldn't be able to penetrate his shield; it would just be a waste of magic.

A mocking sneer curled at the corner of his lips; Voldemort was about to teach Lucien a lesson.

Since you have such talent, you should explore the mysteries of magic instead of turning back to those boring Muggle techniques.

Voldemort was just about to subdue Lucien, to show the boy the vast difference between them...

"Bang!"

The gunshot rang out, but before it could even echo in the room.

Several illusory shattering sounds rang out almost simultaneously!

Before Voldemort's smile could fully bloom, a chilling alarm bell suddenly rang.

Just as a slight pain began to strike, Voldemort unleashed a thick cloud of black mist from his body.

For a moment, it was impossible to see what was going on inside.

"Liuguang."

As Lucien called out, flames of Purifying Fire ignited on the Qilin's body, instantly covering the entire room.

The black mist dissipated, revealing Voldemort's form.

A large section of the left side of the chest and abdomen was missing, and the beating heart was faintly visible.

Voldemort stared at Lucien, at the revolver in his hand, at the dark muzzle of the gun.

"Lucien, you really know how to surprise people! Is this alchemy?"

"No, it doesn't seem like it. It can instantly penetrate and break through magical shields... Interesting..."

Completely disregarding the damage to his body, Voldemort had grown accustomed to the pain, and besides, it wasn't his body.

Voldemort glanced at the workbench behind Lucien, at the small crystal vial containing potions on it.

Lucien was also amazed by the Voldemort's reaction; after all, he was the Dark Lord who almost ruled Daiying. In the realm of Dark Magic, his ability to protect himself was truly superb.

Despite his sighs, he didn't stop working for a moment.

He wielded a cane in one hand and fired a gun in the other.

Voldemort was also violently exploiting Quirrell's body, causing his flesh to shrink again.

Not a drop of blood flowed from the horrific wounds on his chest and abdomen; Voldemort had used Dark Magic to completely erase them.

In exchange for this price, one gains a brief but immense magic.

Amidst a sea of crimson-gold flames and in the distorted, intensely hot air, dazzling spells danced wildly.

After Voldemort's attempts to block the bullets with objects created through his Transfiguration proved largely ineffective, he focused on teleporting and dodging.

However, the pressure Voldemort exerted on Lucien became increasingly apparent. After unleashing his magic without regard for the consequences, Voldemort used a wider variety of spells, which were connected with remarkable naturalness and fluidity.

It was less of a battle and more of a concert being conducted.

The spells are like musical notes, composing elegant melodies under the guidance of Voldemort's wand.

Many of the spells were unheard of, and Lucien focused intently on preparing his defenses.

Voldemort was already a very skilled wizard with his own unique combat system.

The curse may have become a constraint and limitation for him.

However, Lucien knew that this was also an excellent learning opportunity.

In the past, Quirrell had only relayed Voldemort's knowledge, but this kind of hands-on teaching that leaves no room for retreat is invaluable!

There are no enemies, they are all just teachers.

At this moment, Voldemort really resembled a strict teacher, demonstrating his fighting philosophy to Lucien.

"Lucien, you're very smart; you must have realized that the knowledge I've learned from you already involves Dark Magic."

"Those Dark Magic are truly powerful magics; people reject them simply because they fear their power!"

"But that hypocritical old man Dumbledore won't allow first-year wizards to be exposed to those things."

Voldemort anticipated the fear and tension on Lucien's face, like a viper ready to seize any opening he might make.

But no.

Lucien remained calm, responding to Voldemort with only a series of incantations and a burst of bullets.

Seeing this, Voldemort's words became increasingly sarcastic and mocking:

"To be a noble wizard, yet to use Muggle weapons, how shameless!"

Lucien didn't take it seriously; it was just trash talk, anyone can do that.

"I saw a medal in the Trophy Room a few days ago; it had a name engraved on it."

"Hmm, Tom Riddle, that sounds like Muggle name."

Voldemort fell silent instantly.

The next second, a green light flashed.

"Avada Kedavra"

Faced with Voldemort's enraged attack, Lucien simply dodged and avoided Avada Kedavra.

Just as Lucien teleported, a black mist suddenly shot out and swept away the crystal bottle on the platform.

Seeing this, Lucien tapped his wand repeatedly, unleashing various spells, but they were all skillfully bypassed by the long, serpentine mist.

The black mist carried the crystal bottle back to Voldemort.

Looking at the potion, Voldemort couldn't help but laugh out loud.

"Lucien, you're still too young."

Seeing Voldemort's delighted expression, Lucien shook his head.

"Aren't you afraid it's poison?"

"I have my own methods of investigation, and these methods are imbued with a rich vitality and magic."

Voldemort opened the bottle, took a gentle sniff, and was immediately captivated.

"Why would a normal person go to such lengths to concoct a poison using Sorcerer's Stone? Kid, you're too green!"

As Voldemort drank the potion in one gulp, Lucien simply pointed his wand at the workbench.

The platform was enveloped in the glow of the Transfiguration.

What used to be Transfiguration that took only an instant was now extremely slow.

Magic surges and churns within it, reshaping and then coalescing again.

Voldemort, feeling the potion being digested, saw Lucien's actions and laughed heartily:

"Lucien, I've heard you have a real talent for Transfiguration."

"But you must know that while Transfiguration and white magic are indeed magical, they will always be inferior to Dark Magic in terms of power."

"Your talent for Dark Magic is clearly outstanding, and haven't you already experienced its Dark Magic?"

"You're quite adept at using the Dark Magic techniques I taught you, so why are you refusing...?"

Voldemort muttered to himself leisurely, but time passed slowly.

He didn't seem to feel much of the potion's effect?

Voldemort was certain that he had personally witnessed Lucien concocting the potion using the Sorcerer's Stone.

Suddenly, Voldemort felt his nose clear up a bit.

Quirrell's body had been affected by the cold in the previous level, but his previously blocked nasal passages were no longer uncomfortable.

"I saw Professor Quirrell sneezing a lot, so I made him some Nasal Relief Potion. Even though you drank it, it doesn't really matter."

"Using the Sorcerer's Stone to brew potions is indeed convenient. It saves time and prolongs the effects of the potions. Hmm, this body probably won't catch a cold or get a stuffy nose for a whole year."

Voldemort was stunned; he was using the Sorcerer's Stone to concoct this potion?!

An unspeakable rage surged from the depths of his distorted and shattered soul!

"You don't know..."

However, Voldemort hadn't finished speaking.

A violent dragon roar suddenly resounded!

Upon hearing the system notification, Lucien smiled with relief.

[Ding! Loki's Faceless loan has been repaid]