fynovel Chapter 220 The Soaring Killing Intent
Chapter 220 The Soaring Killing Intent
Chapter 220 The Soaring Killing Intent
The sealed room fell into a deathly silence.
Riddle hovered there, his handsome face covered with a layer of frost.
Lynch's words not only answered his question, but also slapped him in the face—in his flawless plan, the core executor, the Basilisk, had become the biggest flaw, and he hadn't even realized it.
Shock, anger, and a chilling killing intent, as if he had been completely seen through and humiliated, flashed alternately in his eyes.
However, after a few breaths, the fluctuations around Riddle subsided.
The offended, icy expression on his face receded like the tide, replaced by a bright and appreciative smile.
"Amazing—truly amazing." His voice regained its magnetism, even more melodious than before. "Not only do you possess formidable magical power, but you also have keen observation skills—you saw traces that others overlooked and uncovered Slytherin's deepest secrets."
Riddle opened his arms, his movements elegant and captivating, as if to embrace the entire secret room.
"Professor Lynch, someone of your stature, confined to teaching at Hogwarts, toiling for these mediocre students and so-called responsibilities—don't you feel it's a waste?" His gaze was piercing, his tone inflammatory. "Look here! This is the true temple of power! Salazar-Slytherin left behind far more than a basilisk or a Chamber of Secrets. It's knowledge! It's the path to the source of magic, the path to transcending the boundaries of mortals!"
His voice was seductive, like the sweetest poison.
"Lockhart is a clown, fit only to be a sacrifice to open the door. But you are different! You possess a talent and vision that are entirely different from his, and from the vast majority of mediocre people in this world. Why should we be enemies? Consider this: if we join forces, Slytherin's true legacy, its highest secrets about life, soul, and power, will be shared by us! Together we can explore the deepest taboos of magic, reaching realms that even the likes of Dumbledore could not imagine!"
Riddle stared intently at Lynch, trying to see even the slightest hint of wavering in his eyes.
"Power itself is neither good nor evil; it is only a matter of how it is used. With your wisdom, are you willing to be bound forever by those outdated rules? Join me, and we can redefine the rules of this world."
Lynch listened calmly to Riddle's seductive speech, showing neither sway nor anger at being offended.
He simply shook his head slightly, a small gesture, yet it clearly conveyed his refusal.
"A very tempting offer, Mr. Riddle. The legacy of Slytherin certainly sounds substantial." His tone was as flat as if he were commenting on a cup of tea. "However, compared to the knowledge and power that have been dormant for millennia—"
Lynch's gaze, like the most precise probe, once again focused on Riddle's translucent, glowing body, his eyes revealing a pure, almost cold, research interest.
"—I have to admit, I'm more interested in you now."
Riddle's seductive smile froze slightly.
"Oh? To me?" He maintained his composure, but a hint of wariness crept into his tone. "A ghost of the past trapped in a diary? My only value is to provide those who come after me with some information from the past."
"I think you underestimate yourself." Lynch leaned forward slightly, as if to observe Riddle's presence more closely. "You should know that I've seen a lot of magic and know many strange and unusual spells. Among them, there is one type of magic that I've studied quite extensively."
"It is an extremely ancient, extremely dark taboo that touches the very foundation of the soul. It requires the caster to tear their own soul apart through murder, sealing that blood-stained fragment—within an object."
With each word Lynch spoke, the air in the sealed room seemed to grow colder.
The light surrounding Riddle began to flicker erratically.
"This object will never be ordinary again. It will become an anchor point, a magical container that allows a soul that should be heading towards its end to be twistedly attached to the world."
"Such a container has a special name; it is called a Horcrux."
Lynch uttered the word clearly, as if a boulder had been thrown into the lake of Riddle's heart.
He stared intently into Riddle's eyes, which could no longer remain calm.
“I know what Horcruxes are supposed to look like—they’re just cold containers, silent fragments, pathetic proof of escaping death. But,” Lynch’s voice was filled with genuine, undisguised astonishment, and he even leaned forward slightly, as if examining a strange specimen under a microscope, “you’re different, Mr. Riddle.”
"You possess complete consciousness, independent thought; you can think, plan, converse, and cast spells—you are almost a living, independent being," and not merely a forbidden fragment. This is too unusual; it contradicts all my knowledge and understanding of Horcruxes.
He shook his head slightly and sighed softly, a sigh that was a mixture of academic bewilderment and the awe of discovering something new: "This is truly amazing. You yourself are a miracle of the magical world."
Tom Riddle hovered there, the cold light around him suddenly freezing and ceasing to flicker. All the expressions on his face—the feigned gentleness, the deliberate seduction, even the shock of having his secret exposed—vanished without a trace in that instant, leaving only a cold, empty face, as if wearing a stone mask.
In those deep eyes, all reason and calculation were replaced by a pure, chilling killing intent.
How dare he—how dare he look at me like that?!
Like observing a rare magical creature, like evaluating a peculiar alchemical artifact!
A blasphemous rage burned within the core of Riddle's soul.
He, Tom Riddle, the heir to Salazar Slytherin, destined to conquer death and reshape the greatness of the wizarding world, was actually treated as a research subject?
This made him feel more humiliated and angry than direct hostility.
However, even stronger than this sense of humiliation was the bone-chilling coldness brought about by the complete exposure of the secret.
Horcrux!
This is the most important secret about myself!
He not only knew the name, but also had a deep understanding of the magic!
He must die, he must be completely erased, along with everything he knows!
A murderous intent surged within his soul like venom, threatening to shatter the form constructed of memory and magic. He instinctively wanted to summon the basilisk, to have the true guardian of this secret chamber end this threat with a deadly gaze.
This is the most direct and effective method!
But the moment that thought arose, a cold rationality forcefully extinguished his impulse.
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