Chapter 70 The Rose and the Snake 10
Abraxas looked at the golden apple that was handed to him, and saw the undisguised cruel mockery and cold temptation in Voldemort's eyes.
He could clearly "sense" the dark green snake venom inside the apple pulsating like a living thing, emitting a cold and cursed aura.
Eat it? Even with the potion suppressing it, it would be enough to severely damage his magic power again, and might even cause permanent damage.
reject?
In this atmosphere deliberately created by Voldemort, openly rejecting the proof of the "goodwill" and "friendship" of the "Dark Lord" in front of many Ministry of Magic officials?
That would be tantamount to slapping Voldemort in the face in public, and the consequences might be even more terrible than eating the poisoned apple.
Time seemed to be stretched out.
The only sounds in the garden were the melodious yet abrupt background music and the suppressed breathing of the crowd.
Deep within Abraxas’s gray-blue eyes, beneath the ice, an undercurrent surged.
The cold touch brought by the fragment of dark magic in the body last night seemed to be responding to the pulsation of the snake venom in the apple.
An extremely risky, even crazy idea instantly formed in his mind.
He slowly raised his left hand (the hand that was pricked by the thorns and absorbed the fragments of dark magic), his movements graceful and without the slightest tremor.
He did not take the apple from Voldemort's hand, but reached directly for the plate - the one Voldemort handed him.
Just as his fingertips were about to touch the golden skin of the apple, they barely passed over Voldemort's pale fingers that were holding the apple.
Voldemort's fingertips trembled violently.
An extremely weak, yet exceptionally pure wave of dark magic, like the tiniest electric current, flowed silently along Abraxas' fingertips into the interior of the apple.
This subtle fluctuation was so fast that it seemed like an illusion. Even Voldemort himself only frowned slightly, thinking that it was the dissipation of magic caused by Abraxas' nervousness.
Abraxas picked up the golden apple steadily.
He lowered his head, looking at the beautiful yet deadly fruit in his hand, and a perfect smile, one that was a bit helpless and indulgent, slowly blossomed on his face.
Under the magic light, this smile has a kind of breathtaking fragile beauty.
"Your Excellency is always so... overbearing."
His voice was quiet, but it reached everyone's ears clearly. It carried a strange intimacy, like a lover's complaint. "Your love... is indeed always so... fatal."
Before he finished speaking, in front of everyone's horrified gazes, and with Voldemort's pupils suddenly shrinking, he watched—
Abraxas lifted the apple and took a big bite without hesitation!
“Crack!”
The crisp sound of shattering was like thunder in the silent garden!
The plump and juicy flesh was torn apart by sharp teeth, and the black juice overflowed from the corners of his lips, flowed over his pale jaw, and dripped onto the front of his silver-gray dress, leaving a dark mark.
He chewed and swallowed, even with a hint of enjoyment on his face.
However, only Voldemort, who was closest to him, could clearly see the dark storm of extreme pain that suddenly surged in the depths of Abraxas's gray-blue eyes.
The knuckles of his fingers holding the apple turned white from the force, and his body trembled slightly, almost imperceptibly.
A cold, sticky, and highly corrosive magic, like countless cold poisonous snakes, madly rushed into Abraxas' body along his throat.
They ignored the suppression of the potion and rushed towards his magic core, which was already fragile due to the punishment.
Intense pain! Worse than the aftermath of last night's gut-wrenching pain! It was the excruciating pain of having one's magic power torn apart, corroded, and contaminated alive!
"Hmm!" A suppressed groan finally escaped from Abraxas's clenched teeth.
His face instantly turned from pale to a strange blue-gray color, veins popped out on his forehead, and cold sweat dripped down.
His tall body swayed, as if he would fall down at any time.
"Brother-in-law!" Clarice finally couldn't help but scream.
The guests around him let out a suppressed cry of surprise, subconsciously took a step back, and looked at Abraxas with eyes full of fear and pity.
The look he gave Voldemort was filled with deep awe and fear.
Voldemort stood there, the gentle smile on his face had long since disappeared, replaced by a cold, almost frozen scrutiny.
He looked at Abraxas, who was enduring the severe pain, staggering but still keeping his back straight, and saw the golden juice flowing from the corner of his lips mixed with a trace of dark red blood that seeped out due to the erosion of his internal organs.
Deep within those scarlet pupils, extremely complex emotions surged—rage, provoked murderous intent, a barely perceptible touch of astonishment, and… a twisted admiration, like finding prey?
However, just as the poison in Abraxas' body was raging wildly, his magic core was shaking violently, and he was on the verge of collapse -
"Buzz!"
A powerful, cold and pure dark magic, like a flood bursting through a dam, suddenly erupted from the depths of Abraxas's magic core.
It was the fragment of Voldemort's power that he absorbed last night.
It is no longer satisfied with 'repair', but under the stimulation of the poison, it shows its domineering nature.
It was like a greedy glutton, madly devouring and assimilating the snake venom magic that flowed into its body.
At the same time, an even more powerful backlash force suddenly rushed back along the invisible fragile link between the two people, which was established by the system and high synchronization rate!
"Well!"
A short and suppressed groan suddenly escaped from Voldemort's throat.
His tall body swayed almost imperceptibly.
A familiar sharp pain, as if his heart was being tightly grasped by an invisible hand, and a stagnant feeling as if his magic power was forcibly drained away, instantly swept over him.
The golden lines on his fingertips suddenly became hot and bright, like a red-hot iron.
He suddenly lowered his head to look at his left hand - under the wide sleeve of his robe, a small patch of dark red, like blood, was spreading rapidly on the inside of the cuff of his expensive dark purple robe at a speed visible to the naked eye.
That was the damage caused by his own magic power, which was out of control and dissipated due to the strange backlash link!
At this moment, in the shadows at the edge of the banquet garden, the old house-elf CC, with a bandage still wrapped around his arm, was cowering behind the flowers, watching everything that was happening in horror.
When it saw the dark red seeping from Voldemort's cuffs, its cloudy green eyes suddenly widened.
The cold and violent scarlet light that flashed in its eyes last night was now like an awakened volcano, burning uncontrollably, madly, and ten times brighter in the depths of its pupils!
The scarlet light was no longer a fleeting flash, but was like two small lamps from hell.
In the shadows of the garden, in CC's fear-filled eyes, a sinister aura, the same as Voldemort's, burned steadily and clearly.
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