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"This..."
An imperceptible mark was reflected in Malfoy's eyes, occupying Riddle's body. Riddle, seemingly unaware, simply felt discomfort in his eyes and rubbed them.
Seeing this, the mysterious figure in black robes only smiled strangely.
The dark temple seed like a long-abandoned relic.
Forgotten by the passage of years.
Within the vast hall, there were only two people: one was Riddle inhabiting Malfoy's body, and the other was a wizard who called himself Herpo. He was tall, enveloped in a large black cloak, exuding a cold and powerful aura that sowhat matched the surroundings.
The walls here were made of rough black rock, covered with eerie vines that twisted slightly in the dim light, almost lifelike. The air carried a damp, decaying odor mixed with a faint sll of sulfur, perhaps because it was near the feared Vesuvius volcano, seldom approached by anyone.
Despite the significant ntal impact on Riddle and an unexpected turn of events, he remained vigilant, quietly assessing his surroundings after regaining his composure.
After all, as a future Dark Lord, he had developed a knack for remaining unfazed. Nevertheless, he was genuinely startled by the identity of the entity who had forcefully transported him here.
"Herpo... The legendary wizard Herpo... How is this possible? Herpo isn't supposed to be from this era," Riddle's mind was filled with doubts about the identity of the person before him.
He was inherently suspicious, never one to easily trust others' words.
"It seems you have a good grasp of history," Herpo's voice echoed in the hall.
His serpent-like face bore a slight smile, indicating that this wizard, who clearly did not follow the path of righteousness, had undergone extre magical transformations similar to those later used by Voldemort.
No.
Perhaps it should be said that Voldemort's thods of magical transformation likely drew from Herpo's ancient knowledge passed down through the ages, which was why Riddle was so disturbed upon seeing Herpo's serpent-like face.
"You said I am like you, like your Apprentice. Naturally, I understand my teacher very well," Riddle did not continue to question, even though he still harbored doubts about the mysterious wizard before him. Apart from his suspicious nature, the young Tom Riddle was adept at seizing opportunities.
"Ha ha ha ha, indeed, you must have collected many of my works handed down through the ages," Herpo seed in good spirits, perhaps because it had been a long ti since anyone had flattered him.
Of course.
This could also be Herpo's way of putting Riddle at ease, attempting to forge a closer bond. No one could fathom the true nature of such a dark wizard's personality.
Even Riddle, who was beginning to proclaim himself as the Dark Lord, found him difficult to read.
He could only cautiously inquire, "I believe you just saved my life from those Night Watchers, but I'm not sure why you chose to intervene."
"Is it simply because I am your future Apprentice?" Riddle was not puzzled by Herpo knowing his origins; powerful wizards could discern any subtle differences in others.
Faced with Riddle's inquiry, Herpo's lips curled slightly.
"Isn't this reason enough? My dear Apprentice, you are the cleverest and most gifted child I have ever seen. Of course, I should cherish such a rare inheritor."
His tone sounded sincere, as if he truly ant what he said, but Riddle felt increasingly burdened. This ambitious young Dark Lord found it hard to trust even a single punctuation mark from Herpo.
"But I co from many years later," Riddle delicately expressed his distrust. His sweating hand tightly grasped his wand, as if only the wand could provide him with a sense of security.
"Does that matter? It doesn't matter, little one. When you reach my level, you will understand that ti spans are aningless. What matters is inheritance and shared aspirations."
Herpo turned and walked towards the temple's window, looking out through the vine-covered window at the ancient city of Pompeii below the volcano and several other cities.
"Tom Riddle... or should I say, Voldemort," Herpo spoke softly, having clearly already read Riddle's mories, a fact that infuriated Riddle internally, though he didn't dare lash out.
"We're very much alike, truly. We both understand how to exploit the loopholes of history, how to seize opportunity amidst disaster. Perhaps the only difference is that I was born much earlier than you. And because of that, I was the first to recognize the value of ti and history, sothing you're only just beginning to grasp. At best, you're rely a novice who's just stepped into this realm."
Herpo's voice was low, tinged with open arrogance and contempt. Riddle's eyes flickered with unwillingness, but he quickly suppressed the emotion.
Even though Herpo had his back to him, Riddle still gripped his wand tightly, not daring to attempt a second ambush. Perhaps this restraint, born of fear, was sothing only the sixteen-year-old Riddle still possessed. Had it been the later Voldemort, stripped of nearly all emotion, he would likely have attacked without a second thought.
Seeing Riddle fall silent, Herpo turned his gaze back toward him, staring aningfully at his "Apprentice."
"Don't be upset. The fact that you've even conceived of such a path is already enough to earn my admiration. We are alike, both adept at using historical catastrophe to achieve our goals. But unlike you, I don't seek just power or immortality. I'm pursuing a higher possibility."
"It's precisely this nobler ideal that allows my sches and gains to far surpass yours."
Herpo smiled, the cold glint in his serpent-like eyes deepening.
"What possibility?" Riddle frowned slightly, unable to stop himself from asking.
Herpo responded softly: "The true ideal and ambition a wizard should possess, a possibility even rlin never touched."
These words sent a jolt through Riddle's heart.
"rlin?"
To be honest, before using Ian's ti machine to travel back here, Riddle had never imagined encountering anything of this magnitude. He had assud that even if there were wizards in ancient Pompeii, they'd be worthless nobodies.
Who would've thought?
He not only stumbled upon an ancient temple and evidence of gods' existence, but also ca face to face with Herpo, a legendary wizard who dared to speak rlin's na.
Even the Dark Lord felt overwheld.
"You plan to surpass rlin?"
He watched as Herpo nodded and Riddle felt his throat tighten.
rlin was a legendary figure in the magical world, hailed as the greatest wizard of all ti. Yet the man before him now claid to have surpassed rlin?
How arrogant!
How... terrifying.
"Yes, rlin." Herpo's voice carried a trace of disdain. "Strong as he was, he was still just a mortal, a man bound by ti and fate. But I... I am no longer a legend, no longer a re mortal. I have transcended the limits of magic. I have beco sothing greater, an Angel."
This infamous dark wizard's expression brimd with arrogance. As he spread his arms, shadows at his feet appeared to reveal the outline of wings.
"An Angel?"
Riddle's pupils shrank sharply, his heart roaring with waves of shock. That word, "Angel", was nearly unheard of in the magical world. Riddle had no real idea what it ant.
And yet...
Whatever Angel signified, it clearly stood above legend.
"In death, I discovered a treasure, one I claid and fused with my soul. It allowed to defeat death itself and glimpse infinite possibilities beyond the horizon..."
Herpo seed to hold nothing back. He pointed down at the shadow beneath his feet, the wing-like image cast within, perhaps the very "treasure" he spoke of.
"Are you saying you defeated the God of Death? That's not a very funny joke." Riddle said coldly, trying to mask the unease rising within.
"Clearly, you don't understand how powerful I am." Herpo didn't argue. Instead, he slowly raised his hand, and a force rippled outward.
Riddle's mind was instantly wracked with searing pain. He clutched his forehead and scread in agony. Only when Herpo lowered his hand did the pain gradually fade.
"You… attacked my soul directly… without magic?" Riddle's voice was laced with disbelief.
And yet, In response to this frightened question, Herpo simply shook his head.
"Look beneath your feet." Herpo gave a quiet reminder.
Riddle, still catching his breath, looked down in confusion, then his expression turned from fear to outright horror. To his shock, the platinum-haired Malfoy was lying motionless beneath his feet.
And he, Riddle lifted his hand in disbelief, touching his face and feeling the steady beat of a heart. He had a new life, a young, vigorous, living body, completely his own!
"This… how is this possible?! You reversed death? So easily… so simply… without any cost…" Riddle's voice was low, trembling, and tinged with fear.
Seeing his reaction, Herpo looked very pleased.
"That is what it ans to be an Angel, a being beyond legend." He spoke as if this earth-shattering feat were nothing, his tone calm, those snake eyes watching Riddle not far away.
"You're already this powerful, far stronger than anyone else. You could conquer the world!" Riddle's exclamation was entirely genuine, spoken in awe.
"And that's exactly where we differ." Herpo's voice chilled. "Your vision is far too narrow. Why would I want to conquer the world? What I seek is a realm beyond the reach of magic itself."
Herpo stared at Riddle's conflicted expression.
(To Be Continued…)
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