Flames drilled through the web into the Acromantula's mouth. Its body twisted violently, eight legs flailing wildly, trying to dispel the heat spreading inside.
Black smoke and flames poured from its mouth, making boiling kettle sounds, like flames had reached its organs and ignited from within.
Surface bristles curled. Black carapace bulged outward and crackled. Spider-web cracks spread—seemed ready to shatter any moment.
Surrounding Acromantulas made terrified clicking sounds and retreated into darkness again. Not only stopped attacking but didn't dare make sounds, fearing becoming the next victim.
CRACK!
After teeth-grinding sounds, the burning Acromantula exploded completely. Bright blue flames bloomed in midair. Surroundings became bright as day.
"Really?" Wizette raised his hand and gripped air. The scattered flames rapidly converged and merged into the fire wall. The wall surged even fiercer.
"Tom..." He drawled, tone teasing. "Riddle? Is this your level? Only see Dark Magic?"
Affecting opponents with words—a dueling technique he'd learned at the Hog's Head.
If effective, enemies often made unwise moves. Like Tom Riddle right now.
"Don't call that name!" Tom Riddle shouted harshly. His handsome face twisted, veins bulging on his cheeks like centipedes.
"Don't think I can't see through your tricks! Transfiguration... Fire magic... Looks good, but how many more times can you control flames?"
He pulled a wand from his pocket and pointed sharply at Wizette. "Let me teach you what Dark Magic is!"
Wizette studied wandlore and unconsciously noticed wand styles.
So one glance identified the wand's original owner. "Lockhart's wand, as expected..."
The fire wall protecting him flickered, like influenced by some invisible force.
"See... Your magic seems out of control..." Tom Riddle slowly raised his wand, like dragging something. "Your power belongs to me now!"
The fire wall made strange hissing sounds, like something breeding inside, now breaking free bit by bit, wanting to descend into this world.
Tom Riddle raised his arm highest. A flame string was yanked from the wall, rapidly growing into a fire serpent that flicked its tongue at Wizette.
The instant the fire serpent appeared, Wizette's fire wall withered to only a shallow ring, like a fire ring about to extinguish.
This let Wizette spare attention to glance at Tom Riddle nearby.
After casting this spell, the glow around Riddle spread outward, more ethereal than before.
As the fire wall faded, lurking Acromantulas returned and lunged from all directions, pincers clicking together.
"Wizette, let me get you out!" Firenze's anxious voice. "Too many Acromantulas. I think I heard..."
Before he finished, Acromantulas were right there. Just a bit closer—could extend legs to slice flesh.
Pincers clicked louder. Black eyes gleamed cruelly, already imagining what came next.
Perhaps the centaur's coat would be rough, take some effort. But that student's skin—probably just one light cut would spill crimson...
Tom Riddle widened his eyes slightly, planning to enjoy the blood-splashing process.
His eyes seemed to show future scenes—Dumbledore finally arriving, face cold as ice, looking at severed limbs on the ground...
The fire ring seemed finally dying, releasing its last spark.
Ancient Magic: Pyromastery brewed in Wizette's heart. He softly spoke that plain incantation. "Incendio!"
Sparks flew. Everything seemed to enter slow motion, drifting slowly in air, stopping like fireflies.
Tom Riddle seemed to realize something and opened his mouth. "Idiots! Dodge—"
BOOM!
Before Riddle finished, blooming sparks became a thick fire ring that exploded outward sharply.
Dense bristles on Acromantulas caught flames, rapidly burning and spreading into countless tiny fire points.
Wizette clenched his fist. Tiny fire points converged like firefly swarms, circling around Wizette and reforming into a fire wall.
Normally, magical creatures could resist magical damage. Especially special creatures like Acromantulas—even stronger resistance.
The Acromantulas suffered no real harm but basically lost attacking desire. Burning pain told them—leaving now was the best choice.
Thinking this, they truly retreated, planning to return to the nest and tell Aragog everything happening.
Though they left, surroundings grew noisier. Rumbling sounds came from the distance.
"Tom, didn't you want to try?" Wizette waved his wand. The fire wall condensed together, also becoming a fire serpent flicking its tongue.
"Try whether Headmaster Dumbledore would regret... The moment has arrived." He thrust his wand sharply. The fire serpent followed the wand's trajectory and lunged at Tom Riddle nearby.
Seeing Acromantulas hide in darkness, Tom Riddle guessed their thoughts. But he had to deal with the oncoming fire serpent—no energy to stop the Acromantulas' departure.
"Don't call that name!"
As expected...
Seeing Tom Riddle's expression cold as ice and the more diffused glow, Wizette planned to add fuel to the fire.
"Tom... Tom... Weren't you going to teach me Dark Magic? Is this your so-called teaching? Seems even... worse than Lockhart..."
Perhaps because Tom Riddle was just a soul fragment, his fire serpent retreated steadily, couldn't resist Wizette's fire serpent.
Wizette's fire serpent was more agile, constantly devouring Riddle's fire serpent. The gap between them grew increasingly vast.
Most direct manifestation—Riddle's fire serpent grew smaller and smaller, almost shrinking to fire snake size.
Tom Riddle felt alarmed. What he found hard to believe—Wizette's control over fire magic seemed to have surpassed him by a margin.
"Tom, looking at you... Should be graduating soon. Why is this?" Wizette spoke methodically.
"I seem unable to learn anything from you. In fact... Your power belongs to me now!"
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