Chapter 712
Dominating and Arrogant, Fomíhal
Chapter 712 Dominating and Arrogant, Fomíhal
When the rough stone wall pressed against his back, Little Barty realized with a start that he had been dragged into the shadows.
Lucius reached into his pocket, fumbled for a moment, and pulled out a yellowed parchment.
—It's that piece of paper with the monastery's address on it!
Could it be that he's thinking...?
Barty stared at Lucius with eyes blazing with fury, his eyes brimming with a venomous resentment that seemed to materialize.
Lucius, as if understanding his meaning, suddenly chuckled softly, a laugh both cold and pleased:
“I didn’t want to make this choice, but you forced me to… Who didn’t choose to follow the Dark Lord for wealth and glory? And what was the result?”
"I'm not!" Little Barty glared at him angrily, shouting in his mind, "You shameful traitor! Not everyone is a spineless coward like you!"
Lucius shook his head, lowering his voice even further:
"The Dark Lord has failed, Crouch, time and time again. I don't know why you can still be so genuinely loyal... Have you been acting so much that you've even fooled yourself?"
If looks could kill, Lucius Malfoy would have died ten thousand times over by now.
But that wasn't possible, so he casually turned a piece of gravel on the ground into a dagger, all the while speaking in a light tone:
“We followers, even after paying a huge price to avoid standing on the trial table, are still subjected to searches and humiliations by scum like Weasley; when we try to have some fun, we're either chased like dogs by Black or arbitrarily executed by trash like you… Why should we be treated this way?”
"Open your eyes and look carefully—I am Lucius Malfoy!"
"Don't think I'm like you mad dogs, eating mud and going to jail for some so-called 'pure-blood glory'? My life... is a million times more valuable than you scum!"
"I will always choose the winning side—that's the smart thing to do, isn't it?"
"I heard you earned twelve certificates while you were in school and are a recognized genius. Why can't you even figure out something this simple?"
Lucius's tone carried a hint of genuine puzzlement.
He knew that such people existed in the world, but he genuinely couldn't understand them—whether it was Barty Jr.'s unwavering loyalty to the merciless Voldemort, or Sirius Black's desperate fight for someone unrelated to him, he found it all unbelievable.
--does it worth?
Lucius wanted to ask.
Meanwhile, all sorts of vicious curses exploded in Barty's mind. His anger doubled with every syllable of Lucius's voice, and he could even feel the magic surging through his body, and even the numbness in his body seemed to be about to disappear...
"Ah-"
The dagger sliced across the neck with a strange sound, and warm blood gushed out, along with boiling magic and awakening power, all of which seemed to surge out like a flood.
Little Barty's life was slipping away uncontrollably with his blood; he could only stare in vain as Lucius casually tossed the dagger that had killed him far away, where it was quickly covered by several goblin ants.
Then, the wizard shook his cloak and disappeared into the shadows with the note.
Little Barty made strange "cluck...cluck...cluck" sounds from his throat as he looked desperately at the sky above. A neatly arranged army of ant demons crawled toward him.
The rocks blocked his view of the battlefield; he could only see the firelight and smoke mingling in the sky. Through his blurred vision, he seemed to see that man lying in the mud again.
That man... who raised him, then rejected him, imprisoned him, then protected him, and finally was killed by Dumbledore himself for trying to inform on him.
In an instant, the father's face was replaced by another blurry face.
That was the man he called "master" and regarded as "father".
But at this moment, Little Barty found that he couldn't even form a clear image of a face in his mind, let alone recall the gentle and loving gaze that once made him feel he could give everything for her. He didn't even know if that warmth was just his illusion.
Little Barty suddenly felt like laughing—
[What is my life... anyway?] A twisted smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, carrying a mixture of indescribable pleasure and resentment, before he sank completely into eternal darkness.
……
Flames transformed into venomous snakes that slithered into the group of puppets, instantly igniting them. The intense flames seemed capable of burning everything to ashes, causing wasps to fall and the shells of several crabs to melt and deform.
They didn't scream, but their silent, fiery charge towards the enemy was all the more terrifying.
A subtle stirring ran through Vader's heart, and he even suddenly had an idea—
I know how to deal with this kind of flame!
The boy pushed aside the jellyfish tentacles surrounding him, took a step forward, and swung his wand in a smooth arc!
"Whoosh-"
A thin beam of white light… or rather, a needle-like flame shot out, piercing the ever-expanding fire serpent. The serpent instantly shrunk, seemingly trying to escape, and a dark hole even formed in the center of the crimson flame.
Someone whispered in his ear with a smile:
“Wade, you must remember this—to fight fire, you must fight fire with fire.”
“Weak flames will be absorbed by stronger flames, and low-temperature flames will have to submit to higher temperatures or have their combustibles stolen. Most flames will eventually die out—including Fiery Flame.”
In a moment of distraction, Wade saw a golden light shoot out... no, it was a golden-red bird!
Its wings are made entirely of flowing flames, and every feather is dancing merrily.
"Wow—"
The firebird let out a clear, long cry, and its body instantly swelled dozens of times larger. Suddenly, it opened its huge mouth and swallowed Voldemort's fire snake whole!
Then, as if it had eaten too much, it wobbled and flew toward the cabinet, then suddenly disappeared in a flash.
Vader blinked, then reached out and poked the cloak hanging on him, which was chattering away and commenting on the battle, and asked, "Is that bird also my puppet?"
The cloak's voice paused.
"it?"
Then, in a tone that was a mixture of envy and jealousy, and a subtle way of speaking ill of a colleague, it approached Wade and said:
"That guy isn't just any ordinary puppet; he's Grandpa Michal! He's always been arrogant and domineering, and he doesn't even respect you, Master, and never utters a word!"
"boom!"
A fireball shot out from the cabinet, making the cloak sizzle and crackle, but Vader just wanted to laugh.
Are all these puppets he made? It feels incredible.
The boy walked out of the church with these thoughts in mind, then frowned deeply.
The battle was at a stalemate in the courtyard filled with fallen rocks.
(End of this chapter)