Chapter 96 The Rose and the Snake 36
"Then let the real murderer... shut up forever - Avada Kedavra!" Voldemort's cold and resolute voice tore through the silence!
The compressed dark light at the tip of the staff turned into a condensed dark green killing curse, shooting towards the incontinent and limp Clarisse like the Grim Reaper's scythe!
"No——!" A desperate scream!
"Puff!" A green light pierced through her brows! Her scarlet dress drooped, her golden hair disheveled, her eyes frozen in emptiness.
Dead silence! The smell of blood mixed with the sweet fragrance of lilies.
The guests were petrified! They were horrified! The Dark Lord killed people in public!
Voldemort put down his wand, his eyes still raging with rage. His cold gaze swept across the crowd and locked onto Abraxas, who had a thorn dagger suspended over his heart.
Abraxas's gray-blue eyes were calm, the dagger's silver-gray cold light shone slightly, and the rose stone shadow deep in the mark absorbed the breath of "destruction".
"The slander has been cleared," Voldemort's voice was like ice falling, "Is there anyone who still doubts my 'lover'?" The pressure was like a tide, and no one dared to look up.
Deathly silence spread in the hall, with only Voldemort's cold gaze sweeping across every lowered head, as if silently confirming the intimidation.
He slowly walked to Orion's coffin, his eyes fell on the white lilies that symbolized purity, and an almost sarcastic arc appeared at the corner of his mouth, as if announcing the complete end of this storm.
Voldemort's fingertips brushed the lily petals on the edge of the coffin, and the pure white petals turned a strange gray in his palm.
He tilted his ear as if listening to something, then sneered, his gaze suddenly turning to Clarisse's body, his tone filled with mocking certainty: "This farce should finally have a proper ending."
Before he finished speaking, the coldness around him seemed to freeze the air, and even the candlelight shrank and dimmed.
The dead silence in the hall was replaced by a heavier oppression, and everyone could feel that something was quietly awakening deep in the coffin as he spoke.
"Buzz..."
Subtle magical fluctuations emanated from Orion's coffin!
The piled up white lilies instantly turned blood red.
The fragrance of flowers turns into decayed resentment!
At the center of the blood lily, a white female figure, condensed with magical energy, emerged—the Wraith of Orion! With marks of strangulation on her neck, her hollow eyes pointed accusingly at Clarisse's corpse.
"Ghost!" Screams rang out!
The vengeful spirit raised its arm, its fingertips precisely pointing at the burn mark between Clarisse's eyebrows and the tightly grasped obsidian poison bottle! A cold and sad voice echoed in her mind:
"It's her... Clarisse... jealous and twisted..."
"Change the dosage... drip poison... try to paralyze me... replace me..."
"Last night's arson...covering up the crime..."
"Poison bottle... purchased in Knockturn Alley... threatening Abraxas..."
Magical scenes unfold simultaneously: stealing potions, dropping poison, arson, buying poison bottles... the evidence is overwhelming.
Public opinion instantly reversed, horror turned into anger, sympathy poured into Abraxas! Awe poured into Voldemort.
Dippet is stunned! Reporter D takes photos like crazy!
Voldemort's eyes flickered! The ghost's testimony cleared his "lover" and even portrayed the murder as "justice."
The awe of the society surged in, filling the void of magic left by the transfer of the killing curse last night, and even surged slightly!
[Ding! Social reputation soars!]
['Pain Reversal' energy is being absorbed! ]
[Synchronization rate increased to: 85%! ]
['Rose Stone Key' Charge: 50%!]
The reminder sounded in Abraxas's mind.
Abraxas felt the magic filling up and the outline of the rose stone clear. He raised his arm, the shadow of the thorn dagger still pointing at Voldemort, and his voice was cold and calm:
"Honey... they say I'm a murderer..."
“…Now, do you believe it?”
Voldemort's azure eyes were fixed on the Dagger of Destruction.
85% synchronization rate, 50% rose stone, 100% prophecy! A crazy and resolute idea took shape - actively imprisoning the deadly weapon!
He ignored the sharp blade and the gaze, and walked towards Abraxas with steady steps. The furious murderous intent in his scarlet eyes turned into the coldness of a martyr.
One step away, he stopped. His gaze shifted from the dagger to the gray-blue eyes.
"I believe it." The voice was deep and clear. "I believe in the prophecy, I believe in the dagger, and I also believe..." His eyes swept over the ghost in the coffin, "...the deepest malice and betrayal."
He raised his left hand, revealing the burning thorn mark on his wrist, and actively and decisively pressed it against the connection core of the dagger floating above Abraxas' heart.
“Sizzle——!!!”
Severe pain, a ripping of the soul, an icy magical explosion. Voldemort groaned, his face pale, the skin of the brand on his left hand corroded, a sizzling sound, and dark red blood flowed.
The thorn dagger flashed with blood! The vines grew like living shackles, wrapping around Voldemort's arms!
At the pinnacle of magical connection, Voldemort's voice was like judgment:
"The contract says love is a weakness?"
The azure pupils locked onto Abraxas's eyes in astonishment.
"Wrong..."
Press hard with your left hand at the connection!
"It's the only thing I've learned...Defense Against the Dark Arts!"
“Crack! Buzz!!!!”
Crystals shattered, chains snapped! Magical energy hummed and erupted! The bloody light converged!
From Voldemort's left ankle, a pair of exquisitely enchanted fetters appeared out of thin air. Their mithril body was entwined with a relief of dark red, fiery thorns! In the center of the clasp, a rose stone the size of a pigeon egg emanated a soft, cold light, imbued with a silver-gray nebula.
Rhodonite Shackles! Mana Suppressor. Ultimate form unlocked.
The moment the shackles took shape, an irresistible sealing force enveloped Voldemort.
The surging river of dark magic in his body was cut off by the huge gate, and his magic power plummeted to the level of an Auror, and the tide of pressure from the Dark Lord receded.
His body swayed as the magic power drained away, his face turning even paler, but he stood firm. Deep within his azure eyes was a cold calm, a hint of relief.
The mourning hall was dead silent. The Dark Lord put on his own sealing shackles?! For love?!
The bloody shadow of the thorn dagger in Abraxas's hand faded, its vines retracting their brand, leaving only a faint crimson mark. The rose stone shadow's energy was channeled into the shackles. His gray-blue eyes reflected the cold shackles, their resolute calm, a ripple in his frozen heart.
“His ...
A desperate roar came from the window!
The scarlet light burning in the eyes of the old house elf CC suddenly went out the moment the shackles took shape, and the dancing thorn python totem wailed indistinctly.
CC slid down the window frame as if his bones were pulled out, and fell heavily to the ground.
The turbid green eyes finally looked at the dissipated vengeful spirits and the cold shackles, and were completely empty and silent.
The body quickly turned gray and cracked, turning into dust and dispersing.
CC dies, and the funeral farce ends.
In the dead silence, Voldemort stared down at the cold rose-stone manacles around his ankles, feeling the seal's stiffness and strange "ease." He raised his head, his crimson eyes fixed on Abraxas.
Abraxas stared back, his gray-blue eyes cracking slightly.
Voldemort managed to curl his lips into a tired, twisted smile of relief. He lifted his shackled left foot and took the first step out of his seal.
Mithril fetters clashing against marble—
“Click.”
The light sound shattered the invisible barrier and struck everyone's heart.
In a deserted corner, Cleveland looked at the parchment crystal that recorded "Wearing Cuffs for Love", then looked at his left hand that was burned by a poisonous rose last night and was now flashing a faint green corrosive light, and smiled twistedly.
With trembling hands, he took out the communication crystal and whispered hoarsely:
"Minister Millicent…change of plan…better 'chips'…a willing Dark Lord in chains…"
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