The Basilisk was extremely fast, and with several professors interfering, Tom couldn't dodge in time and was whipped away by the Basilisk's tail, crashing heavily onto the long table.
He knocked the plates, cutlery, and other utensils off the floor, scattering them everywhere.
He glared at Silan with resentment, pulled his robe over his hands, and tried to slip the Diary down in the chaos.
But all I got was nothing.
Where's the Diary?
Wasn't it just here a moment ago?
Tom was startled and reached for his waist with his only remaining right hand, but no matter how he touched it, his waist was empty.
Now he was truly panicked.
If the professors find the Diary and hand it over to Dumbledore, the consequences will be dire.
Tom jumped to his feet, his pupils trembling as he looked around, finally spotting the Diary on a broken plate not far away. And the professors seemed to have already noticed the Diary.
He didn't care about anything else now, casually flicked out two Spells with his wand, and pounced on the Diary.
This is his lifeline.
If Dumbledore discovers and destroys this Horcrux, he will be eliminated.
Lockhart's body had almost reached its limit; under Tom's relentless exploitation, he was about to bleed to death.
Despite Tom's desperate efforts, his body couldn't pick up any speed, and eventually his legs gave way, causing him to kneel on the ground.
Finally, Tom could only crawl on all fours, looking utterly pathetic, to grab the Diary.
Closer, closer!
Just a little bit more, just a little bit more!
Despite his extremely awkward posture, Tom still did not give up.
Ignoring Lockhart's agonizing screams, he desperately braced himself against the ground with his severed left hand.
The exposed arm bone and mangled flesh were pressed against the pebbles on the ground, with some pieces of the plate even embedded in them.
Tom's soul controlled Lockhart's body, so he truly felt no pain.
But the physical pain was all directed at Lockhart's soul, tormenting him to the point of screaming in agony, making him wish he were dead.
"Kill me... kill me!"
Lockhart's soul screamed desperately, his agonizing howls mingled with the splattering of blood and bone, a truly horrifying sound.
But Tom just stared at him coldly.
"You should feel honored to have given your life for my great cause."
He ignored Lockhart and reached for his own Diary.
Finally, he touched the Diary.
But the next moment, his heart leaped into his throat.
The Basilisk has arrived.
In a daze, Tom seemed to see a mocking smile on Silan's face.
He glanced at the Diary with a detached yet meaningful look.
Tom was startled; an inexplicable fear instantly gripped his entire body, then transformed into a giant hand squeezing his heart, making it almost impossible for him to breathe.
Fear sent a chill down his spine.
How many years has it been since I felt this way?
Since Tom first encountered the magical world, he has been invincible.
He studied magic, created Horcrux, lied and deceived, and used every trick in the book to deceive people.
He gained immense power, and none of his classmates could rival him, nor could anyone instill fear in him.
But now he's scared.
Faced with Silan, who was only in second grade, Tom felt an overwhelming sense of fear.
It felt as if his pride in his strength was utterly futile in front of his opponent, and his smug pretense was completely exposed.
He was completely seen through.
"Could he know the Diary is Horcrux?" Tom wondered to himself. "But how is that possible? He's only in second grade..."
The Basilisk's unusual movements interrupted Tom's thoughts.
In the instant he was stunned, the Basilisk began to move close to the ground, and with a flick of its head, it suddenly leaped in front of him.
The long tongue almost reached the tip of his nose.
"Not good!"
Tom was startled and tried to pull his hand back.
But it was too late.
The Basilisk opened its blood-red maw and bit down hard on his entire arm.
With just a slight bite, the sharp teeth easily snapped the bone in his arm.
All eyes turned to them.
"It seems the outcome is already decided."
This thought simultaneously crossed the minds of all the students.
Strangely, Lockhart did not scream after his arm was bitten off by the Basilisk.
His expression was blank, his eyes were vacant, and his body fell straight down.
After a moment, he seemed to feel the physical pain and let out a shrill scream.
A strange black mist billowed from the Basilisk's mouth.
"Spit it out," Silan commanded.
The Basilisk opened its mouth and spat out a bloody, mangled arm and an old Diary onto the ground.
There was a hole in the Diary.
It was probably pierced by its venomous fangs.
Taking advantage of the moment the Basilisk opened its mouth, Silan peeked inside.
The dark aura he had just encountered made him uneasy; he had a feeling that things weren't as simple as they seemed.
Her gaze fell on the tattered Diary. Silan took two steps closer, intending to pick Diary up and take a look, but suddenly heard Professor McGonagall's warning.
"Watch out, Prewett! Stay away from that thing!"
Professor McGonagall finally finished evacuating the students and walked in through the Great Hall door.
She glanced around the Great Hall and the professors with a worried expression, her gaze finally settling on Silan.
"Are you injured? Or do you feel unwell anywhere?" Professor McGonagall asked.
Silan shook her head. "I'm fine, Professor McGonagall."
Hearing Silan's words, Professor McGonagall breathed a slight sigh of relief, but her expression remained very serious, her lips pressed into a tight line.
She carefully examined Silan's condition, and after confirming that he had no external injuries, she looked at the Diary on the ground.
Professor McGonagall conjured a small box and carefully placed the Diary inside using Levitation Charm.
"This thing must be a Dark Magic artifact; Lockhart might have been influenced by it."
After Professor McGonagall finished doing all this, she glanced warily at Lockhart was lying on the ground barely alive.
"I will hand the Diary over to Dumbledore." Professor McGonagall then looked sternly at Silan. "As for you, Mr. Prewett, you should have followed orders and evacuated the Great Hall."
"It's too dangerous here, you shouldn't..."
Silan perfectly displayed a look of shame and grievance, and lowered his head.
Professor McGonagall stopped talking immediately.
Although she had been evacuating students outside the Great Hall, she had also learned some information about the significant role Silan had played in this sudden battle.
How could she bear to truly blame such a brave and kind student?
So when Silan lowered her head, Professor McGonagall felt a pang of heartache and regretted that she had spoken too harshly.
The kind-hearted Professor Sprout immediately stepped in to smooth things over.
"Professor McGonagall, don't be too harsh on the child. He just bravely helped us."
Professor Flitwick chimed in, "Yes, yes, if it weren't for him, we would probably be in danger."
Even Snape nodded. "That's right."
Professor McGonagall sighed and shook her head. "Well, I have to admit, you did very well, very courageously."
She originally meant to say, "Your courage is no less than your father's; it would be great if you were sorted into Gryffindor."
But with Snape right in front of her, in front of the Slytherin Head of House, she couldn't bring herself to say it.
Professor McGonagall turned to Lockhart: "Now, we need to figure out what to do with him."