Body Snatched
Jafar and Barbarossa were both subordinates of Herpo, so they naturally had no objections to Herpo's plans.
Voldemort and Morgan exchanged a glance, both naturally harboring some reservations—after all, this Great Purge plan was far too horrifying, and the method of wiping out the entire global population was far too cruel, something only someone with great courage could do. It wasn't that Voldemort was a good person, but his style had always been to create terror to instill fear in others; he had never even considered such a direct and brutal approach of wiping out everyone in one fell swoop.
However, since Herpo had already said so much, and given the current atmosphere, they had no choice but to nod silently.
"Then it's settled," Herpo's expression suddenly turned strange, and he said with a sinister smile, "I have some good news to tell you..."
Morgan and Voldemort tacitly remained silent.
Barbarossa opened his mouth to speak, but then swallowed his words.
Jafar could only ask, "Master, what's the good news?"
"Hehehe," Herpo chuckled wickedly, a strange glint in his eyes, "Slytherin has sealed me away for nearly a thousand years, and I've found a way to break the seal..."
"Really?" Jafar's face lit up with surprise and he exclaimed, "That's wonderful, Master! Congratulations on your imminent escape! I'm curious, what method can break this Eight Serpents Sealing Technique?"
"The method is..." Herpo's eyes suddenly flashed with an astonishing red light, "... kill you, do it!"
Voldemort was unaware of what was happening when Morgan and Barbarossa simultaneously unleashed their magic, striking Jafar and rendering Jafar immobile.
Jafar wasn't stupid either; he screamed hysterically, "Master, what do you mean by this? What do you mean by this?"
Herpo didn't even bother to talk to a dying man.
In the dark stone chamber, waves of magic surged like a tide, filling the air with an aura of decay and oppression. Herpo, whose body was bound by eight giant snakes, opened his astonishingly large mouth. A translucent spirit broke free from the rotting flesh and emerged from his mouth, like a greedy venomous snake, slithering toward Jafar was kneeling on the ground.
Jafar gritted his teeth, a burning anger and despair coursing through his chest. He had sworn allegiance to Herpo countless times, willing to burn his life for him, but at this moment, he finally understood the fate of that loyalty.
"I, Jafar, have diligently built Cobra into its current glory, dedicating my life to the great cause of the Knights of Walpurgis, fighting tirelessly and risking my life!" His voice was tinged with pain and betrayal, and tears welled in his eyes in the darkness. "Master, you want to kill me, yet you won't even say a word to me?"
"Loyalty is never an equal exchange." Herpo's voice grew impatient, and his spirit suddenly lunged at Jafar. His incantation echoed like muffled thunder, and darkness began to invade Jafar's consciousness.
"Don't worry! I will take full control of everything you have. The Cobra, now in my hands, will only grow stronger and reach its ultimate goal of ruling the world."
However, just as his consciousness was about to collapse, an overwhelming hatred surged within Jafar. His fist slowly clenched, and a faint incantation escaped his lips. "If this is my destiny... then I will not let it come to pass."
Suddenly, Jafar's body burst into flames with a loud pop, and the fire engulfed Jafar aged body in a second. Overwhelmed by the feeling of betrayal, he had gone mad and chose to use Persia's unique purple fire magic to burn his own flesh in order to achieve mutual destruction.
The purple flames inside the stone chamber quickly dimmed. Although Jafar's final attack briefly blocked Herpo, it could not change the outcome. Herpo's translucent spirit transformed into a thick, inky black mist, completely enveloping Jafar.
"Struggling is futile, Jafar." Herpo's voice carried a chilling laugh as he whispered in Jafar's ear, "Your spells are but fireflies; how can they shake the master of the night?"
The black mist seeped Jafar Jafar's skin, like countless tiny venomous snakes piercing his body. His eyes were wide open, as if he could see the darkness slowly devouring his soul. He gritted his teeth, trying to resist, but his consciousness grew increasingly blurred, and his body ached as if being torn apart. His hands gripped the ground tightly, his nails digging deep into the cracks in the stone, drawing blood, but the cruel force was gradually stripping him of his autonomy.
"Master... no! Herpo!" Jafar roared with his last ounce of strength, his voice a mixture of pleading and rage, "You can't do this... I've done so much for you! I sacrificed everything for you!"
"Jafar," Herpo's voice grew even lower, like a death knell, "It is because of all you have done for me that you have proven your worth. You should feel honored; you will become the vessel for accomplishing great things."
As the black mist fully permeated the area, Jafar's eyes were gradually covered by a deep black. His lips moved weakly, eventually falling into a deathly silence. His body stiffened for a moment, then relaxed, and he slowly stood up like a manipulated puppet.
When he opened his eyes again, those once loyal and unwavering gazes were completely replaced by a cold, malevolent aura. A familiar yet strange smile curled at the corners of his lips, carrying Herpo's signature contempt and arrogance.
"Barbarossa..."
Barbarossa felt his lips and tongue go dry. He knew very well that Jafar was Herpo's Horcrux, a vessel that Herpo could recycle and fuse with at any time. He was no better off; he was Jafar's Horcrux, and after Jafar was fused with him, he also became Herpo's new Horcrux.
Thinking of this, he couldn't help but feel a sense of sorrow, like the saying "the rabbit mourns the fox's death."
"Your subordinate is here," Barbarossa said, quickly handing Herpo a toy that looked like a small doll with a nail stained with black blood stuck in it, making it look gruesome.
"Ah, Jafar's body, the bloodline power truly hasn't disappointed me; it's already reverted to nearly 80% of its ancestral form," Herpo murmured, lifting Jafar's hands to feel the new body. Then he sighed softly, "It's a pity, though, that this body is far too old..."
Please bookmark (69 Bookstore!)
"This is a voodoo doll obtained from the South America Voodoo. It was specially prepared for you, my esteemed master. It contains the blood of 108 young girls in their prime, which can reverse your physical age to an astonishing degree," Barbarossa said respectfully.
"Voodoo, humph, their only redeeming quality is this voodoo doll... Oh well, if the Great Purge plan succeeds, let's leave them a place on the Ark too!" Herpo said coldly.
"Yes, Master."
As Barbarossa pulled the nails out of the voodoo doll, a stream of blood gushed out like a fountain, drenching Herpo.
Herpo was completely immersed in it, and his blood-red body began to emit astonishing magical fluctuations.
The ceremony ended more than an hour later.
Herpo stood up, gently twisted his neck, stared intently at his own white hands, and let out a chilling laugh.
"Slytherin, do you see? I'm back. This time, you can't stop me anymore," Herpo said coldly. Then, with a flick of his hand, the eight-headed serpent, still hissing, vanished into nothingness, as if it had never existed in this world.