Chapter 66 The Rose and the Snake
The pain came so suddenly and so violently, far exceeding the compensatory pain he was inflicting on Abraxas at this moment.
Although it was only an extremely brief moment, like an illusion, it was enough to make his whole body stiffen, and his scarlet pupils suddenly shrank into dangerous needle-like shapes!
He abruptly withdrew his hand and looked down at his fingertips in disbelief—the golden lines were now emitting a brighter and hotter glow than ever before.
It was as if a tiny electric current was flowing along the lines, bringing a strange feeling of numbness and... resonance that was vaguely connected to Abraxas's pain?
Voldemort raised his head suddenly, his scarlet eyes like searchlights fixed on Abraxas who was still twitching in pain on the ground.
Was that momentary excruciating pain just now… an illusion? Or… was it related to this so-called "system," to the pain Abraxas was currently enduring? Was it that "pain synchronization rate"?
At this moment, Abraxas, who was curled up on the ground, suddenly arched his body, as if he was hit hard on the back by an invisible hammer.
A large mouthful of sticky blood emitting an ominous dark red color spurted out of his mouth without any warning!
"puff--!"
Warm blood with a strong smell of rust splashed onto the dark Persian carpet like ink, instantly spreading a large dark stain.
A few drops even splashed onto the hem of Voldemort's drooping black robe, leaving a few glaring dark red spots.
Abraxas seemed to have lost all his strength, and his body completely collapsed. His face pressed weakly against the cold carpet, his gray-blue eyes half closed, and only faint gasps remained.
The aftermath of the heart-wrenching pain was still raging in his body, but the 30-second countdown seemed to have finally come to an end. The excruciating pain slowly subsided like the tide, leaving behind a weakness that penetrated deep into his bones and a hollow numbness that came from having his soul torn apart.
However, the moment the splattered dark red blood touched the carpet, something strange happened!
The dark fibers on the carpet, which seemed to be soaked in blood, were undergoing extremely strange changes at a microscopic level that no one could notice.
An extremely weak yet exceptionally pure power contained in Abraxas' blood.
Those were fragments he had unconsciously absorbed from the violent and uncontrolled dark magic emitted by Voldemort when he was undergoing Cruciatus Cruciatus.
As if it had life, it flowed silently along the longitude and latitude of the carpet, like the tiniest stream, towards the silver snake-headed staff that Abraxas had thrown out not far away!
The hairline crack on the silver staff made of yew wood that appeared at the door of the study healed slightly...in an extremely unnoticeable way when it came into contact with these "blood streams" containing special dark magic.
Like a hungry wound, it greedily sucked in the unexpected "nutrients".
The study was filled with the smell of blood, the stench of venom, and a dead silence after surviving a disaster.
Abraxas collapsed on the ground like a broken doll, and every weak breath he took brought a pain as if his chest was tearing apart.
Voldemort stood where he was, his scarlet pupils filled with surprise, anger, and a cold murderous intent that was offended by an unknown force.
The golden veins on his fingertips were still burning hot. The sharp pain he had felt just now was no illusion! This system... and Abraxas... were much more troublesome than he had expected!
In this tense, explosive moment of silence—
"Bang!!!"
The heavy oak door of the study was violently slammed open from the outside! The door slammed against the wall with a loud bang.
“Brother-in-law!!!”
Clarice Blake's sharp, crying and hysterical scream pierced the silence in the study like a broken gong.
Her golden curls were disheveled, her expensive skirt was stained with the stains of Knockturn Alley, and her delicate makeup was distorted by tears and anger.
At a glance, she saw Abraxas, curled up on the carpet, covered in blood and stains, his life or death unknown, and Voldemort, standing beside him, with a gloomy face and a few dark red spots on the hem of his black robe.
"You...what did you do to your brother-in-law?!"
Clarice's blue eyes were instantly filled with crazy anger and fear. She pointed her trembling finger at Voldemort, and her voice was distorted by extreme emotions.
"Dark Lord! You devil! You cursed him! You're going to kill him!!!"
She completely ignored the terrifying pressure emanating from Voldemort, which was enough to suffocate ordinary wizards, and like an enraged lioness, she screamed and was about to pounce on Abraxas on the ground.
"Brother-in-law! Brother-in-law, wake up! Don't be afraid, I'm here to save you!"
Voldemort's brows tightened instantly, and murderous intent surged in his scarlet pupils!
This noisy Black fly is simply looking for death!
The wand under his robe sleeve slid silently into his palm, and an ominous green light instantly condensed at the tip of the wand - just a simple spell was needed to make this stupid woman shut up forever!
However, just when Voldemort's murderous intent was about to turn into a physical spell -
[Warning! A third-party threat has been detected that intends to harm the host! ]
[Emergency Rule Triggered: 'Damage Transfer' is ready to start! If the host is directly attacked, the damage will be transferred to the capture target at the current synchronization rate (22%)!]
[Abnormal synchronization rate fluctuation: 22% → 25%… 28%!]
The cold system prompt sounded like an alarm, exploding in the minds of Abraxas and Voldemort at the same time!
Voldemort's movements suddenly froze! The green light on the tip of the wand flickered, but it did not shoot out immediately.
Damage transfer? 28% synchronization rate?
In other words, if he killed this crazy woman now, or if this woman really attacked the half-dead Malfoy on the ground...he himself would bear 28% of the damage? !
This realization was like a bucket of ice water poured over Voldemort's head. While it extinguished some of Voldemort's murderous intent, it also ignited a deeper, overwhelming rage of being bound and calculated.
His scarlet pupils were fixed on the seemingly unconscious Abraxas on the ground, as if he wanted to pierce through him completely!
This damn system! This damn contract!
At this moment, Abraxas, who seemed unconscious, trembled his eyelashes very weakly amid Clarisse's shrill scream and the sharp warning of the system in his mind.
His scattered consciousness struggled to gather together amidst the aftermath of severe pain and the strong instinct to survive.
He could feel the magic power in his body becoming more chaotic and weak than ever before, like a broken spider web ravaged by a strong wind.
But in this chaotic ruin, there is an extremely faint, yet extremely pure...darkness?
No, it was some kind of purified magic fragment with a cold and destructive aura, which quietly merged into his magic core like a tiny spark, bringing a strange, cold touch that seemed to fill the cracks.
This feeling... seemed to come from the blood he spat out? From... Voldemort?
This faint perception was like a fleeting spark in the darkness, and was instantly drowned out by Clarisse's noisy screams and the weak pain that surged in her body.
He moved his bloody fingers weakly, trying to reach the silver snake-head staff lying not far away.
After being stained with his special magical blood, the tiny crack on the staff seemed to...actually become a little lighter? Was it an illusion?
Voldemort's wand was still pointing at Clarisse who was rushing towards him, the green light at the tip of the wand flickered, and murderous intent and fear of unknown rules clashed fiercely in his scarlet eyes.
Clarice's cries and curses echoed in the study. All she could see was her "seriously injured and dying" brother-in-law, and she was completely unaware of the death that was approaching.
Abraxas' blood-stained fingers finally trembled and touched the tip of his cold, snake-headed silver staff with great difficulty.
At the moment when the fingertips touched the tip of the staff——
"Buzz!"
A faint but clear magical fluctuation, like a stone thrown into a stagnant pond, suddenly vibrated from the inside of the silver staff!
At the slightly healed crack on the staff, a ray of black light, thinner than a hair and almost imperceptible, suddenly drilled into Abraxas's fingertips as if it had life!
A cold, pure fragment of power with a destructive aura instantly flowed along his fingertips and into his broken magic circuit!
Abraxas' body suddenly stiffened! His gray-blue eyes suddenly widened. Deep within his pupils, a tiny, yet pure, impurity-free… inky black, like a seed from the abyss, quietly emerged and vanished in an instant.
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