My soul should now be at least as strong as Voldemort's soul fragment. With the suppression of Divine Firmament Heavenly Thunder added in, my advantage would only grow.
Although Voldemort's soul fragment had previously been too frightened by his Thunder Technique to move, who knew whether someone like Voldemort was secretly hatching some scheme?
The best course now was to plant a soul mark on him as soon as possible and make him submit. Otherwise, he would always feel like a ticking time bomb.
With that thought, Gerald wasted no time and immediately began practicing the Soul-Searching Technique and Palm Thunder.
He practiced repeatedly in the quiet chamber for an entire day before gradually getting the hang of them.
When Voldemort's soul fragment saw the boy who called himself the Divine Emissary again, he kept feeling that there was something ill-intentioned in the boy's gaze.
His instincts told him this would not be anything good, so he did not take the initiative to ask.
"Mr. Tom, the deity has new guidance for you," Gerald said, looking at the visibly wary Tom Riddle.
"What guidance?" Tom Riddle's voice carried a clear trace of wariness.
"The deity requires your submission."
"Make me submit? Never!"
Tom Riddle's reflexes were faster than his reason, and the words practically burst out of his mouth.
He could retreat temporarily, and he could bow against his will when backed into a corner, but submit utterly and completely to another person?
Only if his soul was crushed to pieces.
"Is that so?"
As Gerald spoke, an enormous ball of lightning had already appeared silently in his right palm.
The ball was the size of a fist, dazzling blue-white all over, with countless fine arcs of electricity leaping wildly across its surface.
Although Gerald had practiced many times, this