"Huff… haah… ha…" Voldemort collapsed into a patch of bushes, gasping painfully for breath.
His instinct for survival drove him to inhale as much fresh air as possible, but it did nothing to ease the agony in his body.
The penetrating wound in his chest had nearly destroyed his heart and lungs. The only reason he was still alive was because of his Horcruxes and the divine relic. The former prevented his soul from being completely extinguished, while the latter maintained the existence of his body and resisted the erosion of Rhys's domain power.
Blood flowed steadily from the gaping hole in Voldemort's chest. As the blood drained away, he felt his body gradually grow cold, his consciousness slipping into a blur.
He knew his condition was dire. He should take action immediately. But in order to escape the World Cup stadium, Voldemort had already exhausted the last trace of his strength. Now, he couldn't even move a finger.
Gradually, Voldemort lost consciousness.
After an unknown amount of time, Voldemort woke up again. He felt as if every blood vessel in his body was burning. The good news was that he had regained the ability to move.
Voldemort immediately looked down at his chest and saw that the hole left by the mysterious opponent was still there, though fortunately, the bleeding had stopped.
'Wait!' Voldemort suddenly realized something was wrong. Where was that blood-red spear from before? Why had it disappeared? And how had he survived such severe blood loss? Was it the effect of the Horcrux?
A string of questions like this was too taxing for someone who had just barely escaped death. Voldemort simply stopped thinking about it. He staggered to his feet, took a few unsteady steps forward, found a large tree, and leaned against it as he sank down.
First, a spell… Voldemort raised his hand halfway before realizing that his wand had been left behind in the stadium.
Dittany. I need dittany!
After realizing his wand was gone, the first thing that came to Voldemort's mind was dittany. Unfortunately, he hadn't brought any with him—he had never considered the possibility of being injured.
Could the domain help him? With no other options, Voldemort finally thought of it. But when he tried to draw upon the power of his domain, he suffered a violent backlash.
The blood in Voldemort's veins instantly began to boil. The surge of heat overwhelmed him, his vision going dark as the frenzied blood directly suppressed the power of his domain.
Only then did Voldemort realize where the crimson spear had gone—it had entered his body, replacing his blood.
He immediately understood the severity of the situation. The mysterious powerhouse had left his power inside him, continuously interfering with him. He attempted to cast a simple spell without a wand, but a spell that once came effortlessly now failed.
Panic gripped Voldemort.
The very foundation he relied upon in the wizarding world had been shaken.
With magic, he was the Dark Lord Voldemort, feared by all. Without magic, he was nothing.
Well, he could be Tom Riddle, the orphan raised in a poorhouse. But that identity was one Voldemort would rather die than bear again.
'Calm down, calm down. This isn't hopeless. There must be a solution…' Voldemort tried to steady himself, yet a dense layer of sweat formed on his forehead.
After several attempts, however, despair set in. He had completely lost his ability to use magic.
Though that wasn't entirely accurate. The very fact that he was still alive was proof of magic at work. Otherwise, a man with a hole in his chest wouldn't be capable of worrying about his current predicament.
The blood spear contained Rhys's domain power. After entering Voldemort's body through the wound in his chest, it had replaced his original blood. The blood infused with domain power completely suppressed Voldemort's magic, cutting off its flow and rendering him unable to cast spells.
Even the power of the divine relic had been suppressed by Rhys's domain.
Only time could save Voldemort now. His only way out was to rely on the divine relic's passive power to gradually erode the domain energy left behind by Rhys.
Other domain users could also help accelerate the process, but it would bring Voldemort immense pain—it would be equivalent to turning his body into a battlefield for clashing domains.
This was the Bloodline Curse derived from Salazar Slytherin—a method Rhys came up with after reaching the peak of his disgust toward Voldemort.
After sitting still for a long time, Voldemort gradually regained the ability to move.
He stood up from beneath the tree. Waves of stabbing pain still pulsed through his veins from time to time, but he had already adapted to his new physical state. Compared to losing his magic, what did a little pain matter?
'A wand… I need a wand!' Voldemort's priority shifted from dittany to a wand.
Once a person had a goal, they became far more driven, and Voldemort was no exception. He had no other thoughts now—only the desire to obtain a wand and test how much of his magical ability remained.
He couldn't cast spells without a wand, but perhaps with one, it might still be possible.
Having reached this conclusion, Voldemort immediately took action. His gaunt figure gradually disappeared into the night.
…
Boom, boom!
Explosions echoed through the library.
What had once been filled with bookshelves and desks was now nothing but ruins.
Astoria was buried beneath a pile of shattered wood, seemingly unconscious. The remaining three were not in much better condition. Hermione was crouched in a corner, her left arm hanging limply at her side. In one of the earlier explosions, her arm had been dislocated.
Cedric's body was covered in a layer of yellowish earth, with a figure made of soil—identical to him—standing beside him. Daphne's upper robes were gone, and both her fists were engulfed in molten lava.
Aries's condition wasn't much better either. These youngsters were quite capable and had caused her considerable trouble.
But in the end, she was still a powerful witch who possessed a domain. In this prolonged battle, she was the one who came out on top.
"Release the domain and let me out. I acknowledge your strength." Despite having the upper hand, Aries was somewhat anxious. She felt she had already wasted too much time, which was extremely unfavorable for her next steps, so she wanted to end the fight as soon as possible.
"If that little girl doesn't receive treatment soon, things might get serious," Aries said, pointing toward Astoria beneath the pile of broken wood. The magical items on that girl and the other silver-haired girl were very powerful, but fortunately, she had the advantage. After exhausting their uses, she had successfully dealt heavy damage to her.
Her strength was excellent, but unfortunately, she was the only one present without a domain—and therefore the weakest.
Hermione let out a sigh. There was still a gap between their strength and that of a true domain user.
In that case, there was no other choice.
"Daphne, use that." Hermione gave Daphne a look. Daphne understood immediately and crushed the amethyst brooch.
Woosh!
A surge of overwhelming power burst forth instantly.
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12 Chaps ahead at Patreon.com/HornyFBI