Chapter 84 The Rose and the Snake 24

Voldemort's voice, hoarse like sandpaper rubbing against each other, rang close to Abraxas's cold ear, carrying with it a strong smell of blood and an unquestionable, almost crazy compulsion.

His hands on the waist did not loosen due to the bleeding, but tightened even harder like a red-hot iron hoop, as if he wanted to crush the thin waist and the cold and resistant body in his arms into his bones and blood.

The excruciating pain of the brand, the humiliation of being imprisoned, and the burning and sticky sensation of the blood-stained hand on his waist were like triple shackles, locking Abraxas tightly.

His gray-blue eyes widened slightly due to extreme anger and a physical feeling of suffocation, and the edges of his vision were black.

He could feel the muscles of Voldemort's chest pressed against his back, tense as iron. The new thorn brand burned fiercely on the inside of his wrist, creating a strange resonance and stinging sensation with the brand on his chest through the fabric.

He was forced to raise his right hand again, and the words on the floating parchment that was flickering with a pale blue light were distorted and blurred in his eyes.

The throat felt like it was being strangled by an invisible giant hand, and every attempt to speak brought a tearing pain.

The punitive contraction of the brand did not stop, but instead became more severe due to his strong will to resist!

“Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken…”

The voice was hoarse and broken, like the whispers of a dying person, echoing faintly in the silent garden.

Every syllable is like blood foam squeezed out from the depths of the soul.

At the moment when Abraxas uttered this poem with difficulty—

"Eyes! Its eyes!!"

A scream, even more shrill and terrified than the one heard in the stronghold's study last night, suddenly erupted from the edge of the garden, near the champagne tower! It was the young house-elf in charge of the drinks!

Its thin fingers trembled as it pointed directly at the old elf CC, who was curled up in the shadows behind the throne.

Its green eyes, the size of tennis balls, were filled with pure, soul-freezing fear.

"Red... red! Like... like fire! Like blood! Like... like the Dark Lord's eyes!!" It screamed incoherently, its body shaking like a sieve.

This scream was like a spark thrown into boiling oil, instantly igniting the atmosphere that was already tense to the limit due to the "affectionate" scene on the throne.

As if forcibly pulled by an invisible giant hand, everyone's gaze suddenly shifted from the two people wrestling on the throne to the old house-elf CC in the shadows in the corner.

CC was still curled up there in fear, with dark green blood oozing from the bandage on his arm.

But at this moment, its cloudy green eyes, which had briefly ignited a scarlet light last night and had just been ignited again by the bloody smell, no longer flickered.

Rather, they were like two thoroughly lit searchlights from the depths of hell! Steady, clear, and blazing with a cold, violent, scarlet light.

The light penetrated the shadows and was invisible under the brilliance of the magic ball.

It exudes an ominous aura that is of the same origin and nature as the one that flickers in Voldemort's eyes when he is furious, and is even more pure and primitive.

Deathly silence! A silence more terrifying than any moment before.

Time seemed to be frozen.

The light of the magic ball seemed to dim a little.

The only sounds in the air were the extremely terrified gasps and the slight clinking sounds of cups and plates shaking.

Minister Millicent's cloudy old eyes flashed with an unprecedented fanaticism.

The magic quill in his hand was almost broken by him!

Record! Record it all! Malfoy! The poisoned vest! The brand! And this... a house-elf with the same magical eyes as the Dark Lord! Shocking secrets! Secrets that could shake up the wizarding world!

Clarice slumped on the ground not far away, her face covered with makeup, her tears washing away the traces of her makeup.

She looked at the two burning crimson balls in CC's eyes, then at Voldemort's equally crimson pupils on the throne. A huge, blasphemous sense of fear and absurdity seized her, causing her to burst into silent, hysterical laughter.

The Death Eaters were completely thrown into chaos due to the collapse of their faith.

If CC's scarlet eyes in the base last night only made them suspicious, then at this moment, in front of everyone in the Ministry of Magic, seeing the symbol of power that originated from the same source as their master, and even more "pure", in the eyes of a humble house-elf... this was simply a devastating blow to the core of their faith!

"No... Impossible..."

“It…how could it…”

“Master… Master…”

The whispers grew into a tumult of terror.

A few weak-willed Death Eaters stepped back subconsciously, looking at Voldemort with eyes filled with unprecedented fear and... a barely perceptible sense of alienation, as if looking at a monster.

Voldemort's body suddenly stiffened the moment the two steadily burning scarlet pupils in CC's eyes were exposed in broad daylight.

An unprecedented surge of fury, a mixture of overwhelming anger at being completely desecrated, the icy fear of having his core secrets exposed, and the violent fury of having the foundation of his faith shaken, erupted in his chest like a world-destroying volcano.

This rage instantly overwhelmed the burning pain of the brand, overwhelmed the desire to confine Abraxas in his arms, overwhelmed everything.

When he saw the scarlet light in CC's eyes, which was of the same origin as his own but seemed more "original", his scarlet pupils suddenly shrank into two needle-tip-sized blood-red rays burning with flames of destruction.

The light was so intense that his perfect disguise completely collapsed.

The handsome face was twisted and distorted by extreme rage, like a demon that was choosing its prey.

"Avada Kedavra!"

Without a trace of hesitation or mercy, a dark green beam of the Killing Curse, unprecedentedly large and solid, like the magma of hell, which condensed all of Voldemort's rage and destructive will at the moment, shot out violently from the fingertips of his free left hand with a whistling sound that tore through the air!

The target was directly aimed at the old house elf CC with scarlet devil pupils burning in the shadows in the corner.

The dark green light of the death curse was so dazzling and ominous that it instantly overshadowed all the magical light sources in the garden.

The shadow of death hangs over everyone's heart like a reality!

However, just as this destructive scarlet beam was about to devour CC's tiny body—

“Buzz——!!!”

The dark red thorn mark on Abraxas' chest was like being thrown into the core of lava, suddenly bursting out with an unprecedented, blinding blood light.

A violent dark magic that originated from the depths of the mark, the same source as Voldemort's, but carried the cold will of Abraxas, suddenly gushed out from the mark like an uncontrolled torrent.