Hogwarts: Bloodline Legend

Chapter 810 - 226: Wild Speculation, This Is a Lie!

When he was brewing potions at Hogwarts, he always lacked help, and Riddle seemed quite suitable, professional and skillful enough. Voldemort was indeed exceptionally gifted in terms of strength. He would definitely be a Master Seed Level potion assistant, but Ian didn’t really want to keep the Black Demon King around for a long time.

"Perhaps, I could find a way to turn Riddle into a Dementor... Then I would have two Dementor assistants, and could avoid moral and legal condemnation!"

The heart of the little wizard was restless.

Sometimes, he admired how clever his mind was.

This is true groundbreaking wisdom!

"Although I don’t care about those accolades, my Magic Potion Class grades have always been unmatched at school." Riddle didn’t know what Ian was thinking; his sixth sense wasn’t strong enough, so he just smiled in response, then walked to the bed and took out a bottle of potion from his pocket.

He casually supported Malfoy’s head and slowly fed the potion into his mouth. Every now and then, he needed to feed Malfoy certain potions.

"When you stole the magic potion materials, no one noticed, right?" Ian leaned against the door and casually asked. He remembered Riddle had sourced these potions from inside the castle "on-site."

"I’ve never failed." Riddle’s response was vague. Clearly, he often stole while at Hogwarts, after all, having grown up in an orphanage, he couldn’t afford expensive materials for practice and research.

Ian raised an eyebrow: "Theft doesn’t suit your prideful characteristics."

"With limited resources, one has to find a way," Riddle said lightly. After feeding the potion, he gently put Malfoy back on the bed and turned to look at Ian.

"Honestly, I’m really curious, who exactly are you?" His gaze flickered slightly, and his tone was very cautious, as if he had pondered long before asking this question.

"Didn’t you already investigate thoroughly when you were at Hogwarts?" Ian pouted, speaking lightly. He still remembered how this guy designed against him at Hogwarts.

"Just bits and pieces of understanding." Riddle laughed self-deprecatingly, "I bet not even Dumbledore truly understands you. Your Dark Arts... each one stimulates that old man’s nerves. Compared to you, the things I’ve learned could even be considered pure."

He truly believed this, his tone full of admiration.

"Ha, do I weigh as much in Dumbledore’s mind as you do? Plus, I never learned Soul Artifacts; Soul Artifacts are the true evil magic."

"Aside from magic related to Soul Artifacts, other magic is only evil in the hands of wrongdoers. As long as magic is used to do the right thing, even Avada Kedavra is righteous."

"You see, I used Avada to kill your other Soul Artifacts. Who wouldn’t see me as the incarnation of justice? The kind Ian?" Ian responded confidently.

"..."

Riddle was quite speechless.

Yet, he couldn’t refute Ian’s sophistry.

He opened his mouth.

After a moment of silence, he finally just sighed, "That’s because you lack a fear of death. I didn’t know why before, but now I have some idea."

"To teach magic to Morgan, to name King Arthur... I think, in their eyes, perhaps you are the true legend." Riddle’s gaze at the little wizard was quite complex.

Upon hearing this.

Ian nodded slightly: "Thanks for the compliment. But don’t expect me to like you because of such things. You, in our Hogwarts, are the Black Demon King that everyone shouts to fight."

"And I’m always well socialized; just ask any other student and you’ll know." The little wizard wasn’t pleased by the flattery, but rather wary of Riddle’s sweet talk.

He felt the Black Demon King had already seen through his weaknesses!

"..."

Riddle shook his head again speechlessly, without saying more.

He turned and walked to the other side of the room, setting up a large cauldron to begin brewing a new potion. Ian glanced at him and also opted to leave the room that was about to become very smelly.

In the corridor.

Ian’s footsteps gradually faded away.

The castle’s night was quiet and profound, moonlight streamed through high windows onto the stone steps, casting mottled shadows. Ian walked slowly towards his dormitory along the staircase.

Meanwhile.

"Dark Bible... Medivh... doesn’t know Soul Artifacts? Ha, this is truly a clumsy... lie!" Riddle muttered softly while stirring the potion, gazing in the direction Ian had left.

He whispered.

Tonight.

The young Black Demon King gained new information about the little wizard.

And regarding Medivh.

He was evidently—not unfamiliar.