Herpo stared at Riddle's conflicted expression.
"What I seek… is godhood."
His words hit like thunder on a clear day.
Riddle's mind erupted with shock, Godhood?!
That ambition far exceeded anything he'd ever conceived. He had thought his own pursuit of immortality and supre power was already mad enough… But this man wanted to transcend magic and beco a god?
Now this was true madness!
"Impossible!"
Riddle blurted it out instinctively. He always believed himself to be ambitious, driven by an insatiable hunger for power. But compared to Herpo, his ambitions felt childish.
Becoming a god? That was sothing he had never dared to imagine. Magic, to him, was already the apex of power. Godhood? It sounded like sheer fantasy.
Herpo chuckled, voice tinged with mocking scorn. \\
"Impossible? Heh... To , nothing is impossible. Even rlin was nothing but a diocrity compared to !"
He might be arrogant and delusional, but he certainly had the power to back it up.
This terrifying strength was the source of his confidence, and his contempt for rlin.
As Riddle's expression constantly shifted, Herpo continued: "I have walked through countless ages, witnessed endless disasters and ruin. From each catastrophe, I absorbed power. Now I stand atop the magical world, just one step away from breaking through that final boundary, becoming a true god. That future… is within reach."
"Tom Riddle, your talent and intellect have shown the potential for a worthy ally. Join . Serve under . And you will receive rewards far beyond anything you can imagine."
Herpo extended a withered hand toward Riddle.
Riddle hesitated. His heart was clearly in turmoil.
Then suddenly, "And what if I refuse?"
Riddle asked quietly, his voice probing, uncertain. Herpo's smile turned strange and cold.
"Refuse? Then you will be forever trapped in this ti… forgotten in the dust of history. And I will move on… searching for the next who is willing to follow ."
With a wave of his hand, "This is the fate you may face."
As his words fell, Riddle suddenly sensed the world around him twist like a kaleidoscope. Countless mirrored surfaces reflected alternate endings to his life across different tilines.
In every single one, He died miserably, leaving not even a corpse behind.
"Fate is the sharpest dagger of all." Herpo's voice echoed from every dinsion at once.
"And I… am offering to pull its poison from your flesh."
He was showing Riddle visions of all possible futures. So where Ian appeared and shattered canon tilines, others where gods erased Riddle in Pompeii before he could act.
"STOP!"
Riddle finally scread, unable to take it anymore.
There was a fear in his eyes he had never shown before, not even to Dumbledore.
"What do you want from ?!"
After Herpo retracted his divine power, Riddle collapsed to the floor, gasping for air.
He then felt cold, withered hands reach out… and gently lift him from the ground.
"I want you to raise the divine throne for , and I will not enjoy that glory alone."
Once again, Herpo extended an olive branch to Riddle. This ti, however, Riddle seed to have made a certain decision.
"It seems… I truly have no other choice." Riddle responded.
A pale hand t a withered one in a solemn handshake.
"Welco aboard, Riddle." Herpo's voice echoed by his ear, tinged with an eerie smile. "From today onward, we will pursue that which transcends all limits, together."
His words sent a tremor through Riddle's spirit.
But it wasn't excitent. It was a feeling difficult to describe.
"I hope so," Riddle said, staring at the extraordinary being before him.
"You can be sure of it." Herpo was still smiling.
And in the dimness of the temple, that smile looked especially disturbing.
Ti passed quickly. After sunset, night fell like a vast black satin curtain, gently but irrevocably draping over the ancient city of Pompeii. The moonlight spilled down like water, softly coating the weathered stone streets, dressing the city that had slumbered for over two thousand years in a layer of silvery gauze.
It was so beautiful… and so peaceful.
The calm before the end, completely unnoticed by all.
As the night deepened, mist began to rise throughout the ancient city.
The oil lamps by the streets emitted faint light, their glow flickering uncertainly through the fog. Intricate carvings on the stone walls shimred faintly under the moonlight, half-hidden and dreamlike.
Deep beneath the old temple, The "priestess" yawned, clearly bored.
"What exactly are you doing?"
She had already brought Ian more than ten basins of hot water, yet he had done nothing but the sa thing over and over, cutting pieces from Patient Zero's corpse into the water basins, then muttering endlessly.
"Where did it co from… I need the truth… where did it co from…"After every series of complex spells, Ian's nonstop repetition had made the priestess's ears numb with repetition.
"You're not trying to divine sothing, are you?" Only now, after more than ten hours, did the priestess, not too familiar with the magical systems of the future, finally begin to realize what Ian might actually be attempting.
But, To her sowhat dazed question, Ian, frowning deeply, gave no reply.
"I followed every procedure… Why won't the skill activate?" He muttered sothing the goddess couldn't understand, staring at his personal status panel in total confusion.
Despite all his efforts, despite training more diligently than ever before, the magic ability that should have appeared on his panel showed no signs whatsoever.
Not even a sliver of experience points.
This was completely beyond Ian's expectations. Granted, he already knew he lacked talent in this particular field…
But this couldn't be chalked up to lack of talent alone.
"I'm… actually immune to divination?!" Ian held his face in disbelief, then hesitated to use the hot water to wash up, disgusted by the chunks of blackened human tissue floating in it, which he doubted were very skin-friendly.
"Wait, you're really trying to divine the truth?!" Hearing the boy wizard groan in frustration, the priestess stared at him in stunned disbelief.
"If you'd just tell the answer directly, I wouldn't have to waste ti like this." Ian rolled his eyes, yet again trying to fish so information out of the goddess's mouth.
This ti, The goddess did not avoid answering.
Perhaps she was genuinely shocked by Ian's attempt at "divination."
"Under normal circumstances, I could easily trace the tiline and find the answer. But not now." Still maintaining the form of the "priestess," the goddess spoke to Ian with a helpless tone.
The little wizard frowned.
"Why? Because the catastrophe is approaching?"
He didn't bother hiding the fact that he knew about Pompeii's impending doom.
"Of course not. I wouldn't even be able to explain to that muddled brain of yours the priority hierarchy of ti and future influence." The "priestess" sighed, speaking gently.
"You just need to understand this, fate will continue to stand on your side." Her words carried ambiguous aning, leaving Ian with a strange feeling of depth and gravity.
"Be specific. Don't speak in riddles." Ian's eyes glinted slightly.
Just as he was about to question her further, The "priestess" suddenly turned toward the staircase.
"See? I couldn't even foresee this twist."
The goddess's mysterious sigh echoed softly. Monts later, footsteps were heard at the stairwell. Ryan entered the underground room just in ti, bringing with him a figure cloaked in black robes.
The priest Ryan bowed first to the goddess, then to Ian, before speaking: "This person says he knows you, and that he has sothing you want."
Ryan's words made Ian pause in surprise.
"I don't believe anyone has sothing I want." Ian replied bluntly, casting a curious glance at the robed figure who was fully shrouded in darkness.
Ryan also looked toward the black-robed man with suspicion.
But the figure remained calm.
"Isn't it you ca here for?"
And then, the robed figure slowly pulled back his hood, revealing a pale and handso face.
"Walking right into the trap?!"
Ian was montarily stunned upon seeing the face, Tom Riddle.
Yes, the young Dark Lord. Under Ian's surprised gaze, he opened his mouth slowly in a low voice.
"No. This is … coming to you for help." Riddle rejected Ian's wording, raising his hands to press against the corners of his eyes. His tone was heavy, tinged with panic.
"I'll go back with you. I'll turn myself in to Dumbledore, to the Ministry of Magic. I'll even spend the rest of my life in Azkaban if I have to." Riddle squeezed his eyes hard, his voice filled with fear.
Unlike his earlier deanor in the dark temple, there was true terror in Riddle's voice now, the fear of soone fully aware that Herpo had done sothing to him.
And because of that, He made a decision no one could have predicted.
"But… even if it's just for the sake of that Malfoy child, you must save !" In Riddle's eyes, there reflected an image completely different from the world around them, Herpo's brand.
The curse Ian had been chasing.
(End of Chapter)
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