Chapter 159: Voldemort’s Possession?

    But..

    Help Voldemort resurrect?

    Cyrus never even considered such a thing.

    He had a better idea—especially now that the cup could produce endless "elixirs of immortality."

    Cyrus focused his attention on the cup.

    Since Voldemort had polluted the cup himself, it was time for him to taste the curse!

    Cyrus threw the ring into the overflowing sludge of the cup, and it sank like a stone into a swamp.

    Moments later, the pitch-black sludge began to boil, bubbling thickly and then bursting, spraying muck onto the table and immediately corroding a pit into the surface.

    Cyrus watched, heart pounding. Suddenly, a dense black smoke rose up, like the toxic fumes from burning hazardous waste.

    The black smoke gradually formed a semi-transparent figure before Cyrus—a Voldemort whose face had not yet twisted into its final, snake-like form.

    "You—"

    Seeing Cyrus, he seemed momentarily stunned, as if unable to comprehend why "he" was standing before him, and in such a distant-seeming guise.

    "What exactly happened that night? What kind of power does that child possess?"

    Like the other Horcruxes, the soul fragment in the ring lost its connection to Voldemort on that fateful night.

    This fragment had experienced the terror and anger of its main body, and now, seeing Cyrus, it sought to understand what had happened back then and what Cyrus truly was.

    However, Cyrus had no intention of engaging in conversation.

    Previously, he had manipulated the diadem because he needed its power, but with the soul in the ring, there was no need for further dialogue.

    His eyes cold, he directly picked up his wand.

    "Expelliarmus!"

    A spell hit Voldemort''s face directly.

    Voldemort: ???

    "What are you doing?"

    The soul fragment in the ring was clearly bewildered. He couldn''t understand why Cyrus would attack him, even though the spell had no actual effect on him.

    "It really didn''t work?"

    This result did not surprise Cyrus. The protective power of a Horcrux was very strong. Ordinary magic, and even many dark spells, couldn''t destroy a Horcrux. Only a terrible curse like Fiendfyre could destroy both the object and the soul inside it.

    Cyrus shook his wand and fished Gaunt''s ring out of the cup.

    The elixir of life flowing from the cup, despite its curse, indeed possessed strong vitality. He didn''t want to actually revive Voldemort, not even in a state between life and death.

    "This feels great," said the soul fragment in the ring with delight.

    In just a few minutes, he had constructed a half-real and half-virtual figure from a shapeless soul fragment, just like the state before Cyrus swallowed the Philosopher''s Stone.

    His appearance was similar to Cyrus, but his features were more sinister and slightly older, reflecting the dark, twisted nature of his mind.

    Perhaps because he hadn''t fully revived and gained a truly vital body, the curse of the elixir hadn''t been triggered yet.

    "If I''m not mistaken, you''re not the real one, are you?" Voldemort''s ghostly soul, after a brief moment of intoxication, quickly regained his composure and turned to look at Cyrus.

    He probably already knew how Cyrus had been revived and thought Cyrus was trying to resurrect him at that moment.

    "Not the real one?" Cyrus finally responded, his eyes, different from Voldemort''s, looked at the soul fragment with disdain. "You''re correct in a way, but more accurately, I''m not Voldemort at all."

    Once Voldemort''s soul was freed from the ring, the curse of the deathly poison from the goblet immediately took effect. Voldemort now seemed like he was being deep-fried in boiling oil; his skin rotted, his handsome features melted away, and his prominent nose drooped like a melting candy...

    His body vanished, reverting to a shapeless mist, shrieking in agony!

    Cyrus was not satisfied with this outcome.

    He had tried to separate Voldemort''s soul because he feared that Voldemort might still be lurking within his own soul. He wanted to ensure that if the soul from the diary ever influenced him, he could expel it.

    At the very least, even if the soul from the diary had been completely erased, Cyrus could help Harry remove the piece of Voldemort''s soul lodged in his head.

    However, now, even though Voldemort''s soul was extracted, the ring was destroyed.

    What difference did this make compared to simply destroying a Horcrux?

    No, it was even worse. At least destroying a Horcrux killed the soul within it, but now—

    Cyrus raised his eyes, watching the tormented Voldemort.

    The soul was glaring at Cyrus with hateful eyes, those bloody orbs resembling a fierce viper ready to tear Cyrus''s flesh to shreds and devour him!

    "How dare you—!"

    His voice was hoarse and sharp, like sandpaper grinding forcefully against a person''s skin, leaving a trail of bleeding wounds.

    The black mist surged suddenly, like an unpredictable sea that suddenly rolled up an endless storm cloud!

    In an instant, Voldemort''s power swept through the Room of Requirement.

    The dense black smoke condensed, coiling around Cyrus like a black serpent. His crimson eyes seemed to be bleeding, and the howling wind resembled the wails of malevolent spirits!

    Cyrus frowned, watching as the creature''s pain gradually transformed into madness and excitement!

    "Well, congratulations," Cyrus said, twirling his wand, seemingly indifferent.

    So what if he broke free of his shackles?

    What was so frightening about a Voldemort who had no body and was burdened with a curse?

    Cyrus didn''t take Voldemort seriously, but Voldemort''s eyes were filled with greed!

    A fresh body was right before him, and this body was essentially identical to his own, how could he not be tempted?

    If he could seize this body, he could immediately be resurrected!

    Moreover, since they were essentially the same person, there was no need to worry about incompatibility between the body and the soul.

    "Your body is mine!"

    At that moment, Voldemort already saw Cyrus as the perfect vessel. The black mist surged, rushing toward Cyrus.

    Boom!!!

    The endless black mist collided with everything in the Room of Requirement, sending furniture crashing into the ceiling!

    It was as if the plug had been pulled out of a filled pool, and in an instant, the entire room''s black mist formed a massive vortex, crazily swirling toward Cyrus!

    Moments later, everything returned to calm.

    The objects that had been hurled into the air came crashing down like a rainstorm.

    In the scattered ruins, Cyrus'' body seemed to be hit by a sledgehammer, standing like a puppet.

    After a while, the body shook suddenly, and then he raised his head stiffly, revealing a pair of scarlet eyes!

    _______

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