— — — — — —
Within the study space lay twelve majestic Zodiac Palaces, each anchored deep inside Tom's consciousness. This area allowed him to split his consciousness—learning from his Andros in the study space while still moving, fighting, and living normally in the real world.
The place had always been peaceful… until now. Of the twelve Zodiac Palaces, the first four blazed with radiant light—proof that the first four trials had been completed. The fifth glimmered faintly, showing that its trial was active but still unfinished, while the remaining seven stood silent and dark.
But the Sixth Palace was trembling… a sure sign that the sixth trial could activate at any moment.
"…It's still shaking?" Tom muttered. "Let's kill some time."
Deciding there was no point in just staring at it, he pulled out the diary and started chatting with Voldemort.
"Hey, Little Voldy, let's talk."
"Don't act like we're bitter enemies with a blood feud or something. A Riddle has to help another Riddle. It's the Riddles' code."
「Do you even hear yourself? How could you be so shameless?」
Voldemort couldn't tell if Tom was the problem, or if the entire next generation of wizards had gone insane. Were all wizards fifty years from now like this?
Had this brat already forgotten he'd hit him with the Cruciatus Curse five times just yesterday—
All this just because he wouldn't write "I, Voldemort, am a mudblood" in the diary—so Tom could humiliate his future self with it later?
Tom had even been merciful enough to change it to "I, Voldemort, am a bitch ." And now he just shows up acting like nothing ever happened?
"Relax, Voldy. You need to work on your temper. Getting mad at every little thing… you're supposed to be the Dark Lord. Where's the dignity in that?"
"Anyway, you know Grindelwald, right?"
The diary stayed silent for a moment before words finally appeared.
「Of course I do. Just a failure—defeated by Dumbledore.」
Of course Voldemort knew about Gellert Grindelwald. Back when he was a student, Grindelwald and the Acolytes had been at their peak. Dumbledore was constantly away from the castle, and every time he came back his aura felt sharper, heavier—then slowly mellowed over time.
It was back then that Voldemort first realized just how terrifying Dumbledore truly was, and how completely he stood apart from every other wizard.
"Well, aren't you a failure too?" Tom teased. "At least Grindelwald lost to Dumbledore—the most powerful white wizard of the century. You, on the other hand, lost to a baby."
「Shut up!」
Voldemort's soul practically trembled with rage. This was exactly why he hated Tom so much. The brat's comments were venomous—every word was either poison or a knife.
「I did NOT lose to Harry Potter! He just got lucky! His mother used some unknown magic, and that's the only reason I ended up like this!」
"Oh? So what you're saying is… you lost because you didn't have enough mommy protection?"
Voldemort went dead silent, emotionally imploding, but Tom clearly had no intention of letting him off the hook.
"Alright, Voldy, let's put your mommy issue aside. Just talking about influence and reputation—you and Grindelwald aren't even in the same league."
"When Grindelwald was active, he swept across the world. The whole of Europe was his playground. North America lived in fear of him."
"And you?"
"You did alright in Britain. People were scared to say your name. But outside the British Isles? You're a nobody."
"Put your name next to Grindelwald's, and old wizards everywhere would laugh until their dentures fall out."
「...What exactly are you trying to say?」
If Voldemort's soul had a physical form, he'd be grinding his teeth to dust right now.
Only rivals can hate each other this much. Tom was deliberately hyping up Grindelwald while tearing Voldemort down, and worst of all, Voldemort couldn't even argue back. Because he knew Tom was right.
It wasn't his fault—it was Dumbledore's! He hadn't even made it out of the tutorial zone before the final boss was spawn-camping him. Who else was he supposed to blame?
"All I'm saying is, perspective matters. If you hadn't obsessed over Britain, your main body wouldn't be stuck eating dirt in some Albanian forest right now."
"You see, Little Voldy? You and I are bound by fate. You should trust me more."
"If your main body ever recovers, I'd be your backup plan—your 'Dark Lord seed.' And isn't that what you wanted? Someone to keep Dumbledore busy?"
"So stop hoarding all that precious Slytherin knowledge. Teach me already. I'm ready for my first bloodline fusion."
Unbelievable—after all that nonsense, he still just wanted to squeeze me dry.
But this time, Voldy actually hesitated. If Tom really became a new Dark Lord and forced Dumbledore to split his focus, that might actually work in his favor.
Tom, having made his point, sealed the diary again and focused on the Zodiac palaces.
The Sixth Trial finally manifested.
[Ding! The Sixth Trial has been divided into two parts.]
[Sixth Trial – Part I: King of Serpents]
[Objective: Slay the Basilisk outside of its lair to complete this part of the trial.]
[Sixth Trial – Part II: King of Spiders]
[Objective: Slay the King of the Acromantulas outside of its lair to complete this part of the trial.]
[Rewards: Mystic Eyes of Death Perception, Complete Poison Immunity, Poison Affinity, Extended Lifespan.]
---
(T/N: Just so you don't get your hopes up — Mystic Eyes of Death Perception was a mistake by the author. He meant the same ability as "Deadly Gaze," so it should be called "Mystic Eyes of Petrification." This will be clarified later.)
---
"Good thing I didn't try to kill the Basilisk before."
Tom exhaled in relief. Just as he'd suspected, the basilisk was part of the trial. If he'd killed it early, he would have been forced to raise another one—or worse, the system might have swapped the trial out for something even more annoying.
Killing the basilisk outside the Chamber of Secrets wouldn't be hard.
But the King of the Acromantulas…
Yeah, there was no doubt about it. It had to be Aragog.
But wasn't this just a massive waste?
A spider that had survived fifty years—its venom had to be priceless.
Tom had actually been planning to visit Aragog and have a nice, civilized chat someday. Now the big guy had to die before he could contribute anything?
Suddenly, the golden letters on the trial prompt shimmered, and the text shifted.
[Ding! Request acknowledged — alternative condition generated.]
[Note 1: Subjugating the Acromantula King will also count as completing the trial.]
[Note 2: Rewards remain unchanged.]
Tom let out a heavy sigh of relief.
The "Twelve Trials" were getting smarter—or maybe it was just that, as he completed more of them, his control over them grew stronger. After all, they were tied to his innate gift.
"Mystic Eyes of Death Perception, Immunity to Poisons, Poison Affinity."
"Out of all those, the Mystic Eyes are definitely the most valuable. They'd make my eyes glow blue—could look pretty cool in a fight. Still, I'd prefer Six Eyes… they kinda look cooler." Tom muttered, then shook his head, chasing away the absurd thought.
"Now let's think how to kill the snake..."
The Basilisk's deadly gaze was absurdly powerful. A single direct look into its eyes meant instant death, making it one of—if not the—most dangerous creatures in the wizarding world. And looking through glasses or lenses offered no protection.
Only if the Basilisk's eyes were damaged and rendered blind, its lethal ability disappeared entirely, making it completely safe to look at. Interestingly, phoenixes were entirely immune to its gaze—direct or otherwise—thanks to their immortal nature.
But Tom couldn't exactly ask Fawkes to come help peck its eyes out, he'd have to handle this himself. Good thing he'd developed that little spell earlier—looked like it was about to come in handy.
The real problem now was how to wake the basilisk up.
Even if he barged into the Chamber right now, he wouldn't find it. Only Voldemort's command could wake it.
Tom withdrew into his study space to consult the two old geezers about a plan.
---
The next day, during Defense Against the Dark Arts, Professor Laos Wilkinson introduced a new minor jinx — theStinging Jinx.
Even though it was classified as a Dark charm, it wasn't considered true Dark magic. It was just nasty enough to make your skin sting and swell in seconds.
Interestingly, it's one of only three spells known to be referred to as both a jinx and a hex.
And simple as it was, Tom mastered it quickly, reaching the point where he could cast it silently by the end of class.
What made this hex special was that it completely bypassed the Shield Charm. You either had to endure the itching, burning pain — or be quick enough to dodge it.
By the end of the lesson, half the class was covered in swollen red marks, wincing and hissing through their teeth. They looked like they'd been attacked by a swarm of angry bees.
...
"Hold up a moment, Mr. Riddle!"
Laos caught Tom as he was heading upstairs. "You're going to the Headmaster's office, aren't you?"
"Yes, Professor Wilkinson," Tom replied with a polite nod. "I have some matters to report to the Headmaster. You?"
Laos grinned. "What a coincidence. I need to see Dumbledore too—and since you don't need a password to get in, I guess I'll just tag along."
"Then let's go together," Tom said with a faint smile. Their exchange sounded perfectly normal to anyone listening.
Once they reached a floor where students rarely came, Laos finally dropped his voice.
"I heard you're entering the tournament. Are you actually serious?"
"Why wouldn't I be?" Tom shot him a sidelong glance.
"That's not what I meant…"
Laos grimaced. A man who had once commanded thousands of Grindelwald's followers, now playing schoolyard games with teenagers—it felt absurd.
"How many people are Ilvermorny sending? Any teachers worth paying attention to?" Tom asked casually.
"Not many—maybe twenty students at most." Laos shook his head, but his tone grew serious as he continued:
"But next year's dueling tournament? They definitely have another agenda."
"Another agenda?" Tom tilted his head. "What could they possibly want? To assassinate Dumbledore?"
"That's just what I've heard from my family," Laos said, his expression grave. "The Magical Congress has been acting strange lately. They've been negotiating with the goblins to move Gringotts' headquarters to New York, and more and more of them are joining the International Confederation of Wizards."
"One of my uncles says Graves, Lopez, and the rest want to turn North America into the new heart of the wizarding world."
Tom stopped for a moment, studying Laos, then started up the stairs to the seventh floor.
"Not surprising. Rising powers always want to challenge the old guard and carve up the pie again. But it's not something we need to worry about right now. I'd rather wait and watch from a safe distance."
"Don't get involved in this mess," Tom added over his shoulder. "And pass any information to me."
"Maybe it could be a great opportunity for the Acolytes."
"I understand." Laos gave the slightest nod and fell silent.
...
Seventh Floor
Seeing it's Riddle, the stone gargoyle yawned and jumped aside.
Tom just smiled and stepped into the Headmaster's office.
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PS: Leave some love for the story, aka Power Stones~