Morris felt that Quirrell truly had a special connection with his Skeleton Unicorn.
All told, this is the third time the Unicorn has knocked Quirrell away.
Absolutely amazing!
In the previous room, Morris had been pondering how to get through the two flames.
Since there was really no good way, he simply gave up thinking, used magic instead of his brain, and used the Bone Summoning Spell to make himself a suit of armor, forcing his way through.
It must be said that the armor's heat insulation performance was quite excellent; the scorching flames did not cause him the slightest discomfort.
Then, while Harry and Quirrell were fighting, he summoned the Skeleton Unicorn and ambushed Quirrell.
At that moment, Morris dismounted and walked up to Quirrell.
The other person collapsed to the ground, their body contorted in an unnatural position, their eyes wide open, staring blankly at the ceiling, already lifeless.
Seeing this, Morris flipped him over.
There was still a faint trace of life remaining on the face on the back of Quirrell's head.
Voldemort stared intently at Morris, his voice hoarse and strained. "Who are you?"
"Guess~" Morris said cheerfully.
He was now completely hidden inside bone armor, and Voldemort could not see his face at all.
Then he naturally had nothing to worry about and could live life to his heart's content.
Voldemort suddenly said in a daze, "Give me the stone in that boy's pocket over there, and I can give you anything you want."
Morris felt a strange, alluring force.
Ah, as expected of Voldemort, he can still cast spells even at a time like this.
However, for Morris, this kind of mental attack was completely ineffective.
So, with a smile, Morris raised his foot and stomped hard on the back of Quirrell's head.
That feels good.
Anyway, the other party doesn't know who he is.
He's probably the first person in the world to dare treat the Dark Lord like that, right?
This kick didn't cause much injury, but it was extremely insulting.
Voldemort instantly flew into a rage, "How dare you!"
However, he no longer had the vitality to maintain this state.
That roar, filled with humiliation, exhausted his last bit of energy.
Voldemort's face blurred and disintegrated instantly, leaving only a charred and ugly back of his head, and then he remained motionless.
Morris turned and walked toward Harry, then knelt down to examine him.
He's still alive, just unconscious—that's to be expected.
How could the Chosen One possibly die in a place like this?
You agree, right, Headmaster Dumbledore?
Harry's pocket was bulging; the Philosopher's Stone must have been inside.
Morris did not immediately reach for the Philosopher's Stone, but instead turned his gaze to the seemingly empty wall to the side.
The flow of magic there gave him a strange feeling.
"Good evening, Headmaster Dumbledore," he said suddenly. "I see you over there."
As soon as the words were spoken, the air around the wall spread out like ripples on water, and a tall figure slowly emerged.
Once fully revealed, Dumbledore gave a faint smile. "Good evening, Morris. But if I may, I'd prefer to be called Professor."
"Yes, Professor Dumbledore."
When did you find me?
"Just now," Morris answered truthfully, removing his bone armor to reveal his face, "You know, I'm very sensitive to magic."
Dumbledore, then slowly walked to the Skeleton Unicorn and examined it carefully.
The Skeleton Unicorn took a step back, flames flickering in its eye sockets.
Dumbledore exclaimed, "I have never seen such a Magical Creatures —or rather, magical construct?"
"It is my friend," Morris replied calmly, stepping forward and gently patting the Unicorn's cold neck.
The Skeleton Unicorn quieted down and rubbed its head against his palm.
Dumbledore observed the details of this interaction and asked, "Does it have its own consciousness?"
"Yes," Morris said with a hint of regret, "But unfortunately, it wasn't alive, and it had no soul."
Dumbledore to be deep in thought, then suddenly said, " The Unicorn certainly wouldn't want to see the bones of their own kind come to life."
Morris paused, then asked cautiously, "Do you mind if I do this?"
Dumbledore shook his head. "That's not what I meant... Let's get down to business, Morris. Are you here to help Harry?"
His gaze shifted to Harry, who lay unconscious on the ground.
"Oh, yes, but I'd also like to see what the legendary Philosopher's Stone looks like."
Morris walked up to Harry, conjured a soft cushion for him, and then carefully took the Philosopher's Stone from his pocket.
The deep red stone lay in my palm, radiating a warm luster even in the dim room.
Morris examined it carefully.
The pinnacle of alchemy, the ability to turn lead into gold and grant immortality.
Unfortunately, he didn't know much about alchemy.
In his eyes, this stone was nothing more than a stone containing a great deal of magic.
There's nothing magical about it.
"Give me the Philosopher's Stone, Morris," Dumbledore said gently but firmly, "I'm planning to destroy it."
"Destroy it?" Morris handed over the Philosopher's Stone, tilting his head.
"Yes," Dumbledore said, taking the Philosopher's Stone. "The power contained within this stone is beyond your imagination; it will bring disaster. I spoke with its creator, and we both agree that destroying it is the best course of action right now."
Destroy the Philosopher's Stone?
Morris hadn't expected Dumbledore to make this choice.
In his view, it was like burning down a library full of rare ancient books.
I don't understand.
"You are a truly great man," Morris exclaimed.
"I don't think so," Dumbledore said.
"Can I witness the moment the Philosopher's Stone is destroyed?" Morris asked.
Dumbledore was slightly taken aback, clearly not expecting the other party to say that.
He looked down at the deep red stone in his hand, then looked up at Morris. "Why would you have this idea?"
"Oh, it's nothing," Morris very relaxed. "I just find it moving to witness the end of a great magical artifact."
Dumbledore stared at him, as if trying to see through something.
"That's interesting," Morris shrugged, continuing, "Whether it's creation or destruction, beginning or end."
"The birth of the Philosopher's Stone must have been an exciting process, so its end, if it truly is an end, should be equally spectacular. Isn't it worth witnessing with your own eyes?"
Dumbledore laughed.
"Let's see," he said, his tone suddenly becoming lighter, as if a heavy burden had been lifted. "Let's witness this moment together."
Morris was somewhat surprised. "Now? Here?"
"Why not?" Dumbledore slowly raised the Philosopher's Stone in his hand.