Basilisk, Contract, and Horcruxes (V)

Riddle's soul body shuddered violently. Those words were like knives, carving into the place that hurt him most, one cut after another. His failures, his downfall, his disgrace—all of it had been casually laid bare by this unfamiliar youth, as if he had opened an old closed book and read a few pages at random.

"How... how did you know...?"

"How did I know?" Madara's lips curled slightly, but there was no warmth in that expression. "Those so-called 'great achievements' of yours are nothing more than a clown's self-indulgent amusement in my eyes. Splitting your soul? The stupidest form of immortality. Every Horcrux is a weakness, and with every split, your soul becomes more fragile. You don't even have a tenth of your peak strength now, do you?"

Riddle's soul body began to fluctuate violently. It was not anger, but fear. This stranger not only knew his secret but had seen through his very nature. Truths he believed only he knew, buried in the deepest recesses of his being, truths he had not dared reveal even to his most trusted Death Eaters—all of them lay exposed before this man.

Madara no longer looked at him. He raised his right hand and flicked his fingers casually. "Amaterasu."

A cluster of pitch-black flames, as though capable of devouring all light, appeared from nowhere in utter silence and precisely enveloped the entire diary. This was no ordinary fire. It could burn anything combustible, including the ugly soul before him.

"Ah—!!!"

This time, it was no longer a silent scream. A shriek of utter agony burst from the black flames, born from the burning of his very essence. Riddle's soul body felt the true threat of destruction. Those black flames carried an irreversible annihilating power, something akin to a law. They were not burning