Seeing that he had formed a life-and-death bond with the Bloody Baron, Theodore felt a surge of delight.
As expected—simps really are easy to play.
The method to refine the Judge's Brush was his.
Theodore then spoke to the Bloody Baron.
"Baron, I still have things I need to do."
"Next time we meet, we'll come up with a way to make Lady Helena come to her senses and recognize Tom Riddle for what he really is."
The Bloody Baron nodded repeatedly, gratitude filling his gaze.
"Little wizard, you've helped me greatly. I can't let this pass without giving something in return."
"Next time we meet, I can answer any questions you have about Hogwarts or Slytherin—anything I know."
Theodore's eyes shifted slightly.
After everything he'd learned recently, he had realized Hogwarts hid far more secrets than anyone imagined. What appeared in the original story was only the tip of the iceberg.
The librarian, the caretaker, the ghosts—any of them might hold ancient knowledge.
He also remembered that Filch had once invited him to visit the caretaker's office.
Perhaps he should find time to go—there might be unexpected gains.
But for now, Theodore's top priority was to claim the abilities he'd gained from the Bloody Baron and then destroy the soul fragment attached to the diadem.
Once that was done, he could obtain his first reward from the "life-and-death enemy" Duobao Daoren—
Fortune's Favor.
This talent was on the same tier as the Virtuous Immortal talent he'd gained from Dumbledore—similar effects, and crucially, they could stack.
Last time, Theodore had fused the terrifyingly strong Five-Element Reversal Origin Sea talent largely thanks to Virtuous Immortal.
If he added Fortune's Favor on top of that…
Then the next time he fused talents, he had a very real chance of producing another top-tier result—raising his strength yet again.
With that in mind, Theodore bade farewell to the reluctant Bloody Baron and returned to the Room of Requirement.
The moment he stepped inside, his gaze fell upon the three newly acquired rewards—still unclaimed.
"Netherland Blessing.
Adjudge Soul, Sever Spirit.
Judge's Brush Refining Method…"
"System—claim them all."
In the next instant, as the three rewards appeared in his reward panel, a strange phenomenon manifested around Theodore.
Pale, deathly energy—cold and silent—rolled toward him.
At first, Theodore remained wary.
But quickly, he felt something… familiar.
Comforting.
Like coming home.
Wrapped in that pale aura, he seemed to sense another world on the far side of the living—an opposite realm belonging to the dead—calling to him.
Like a lost, lawless land longing for a sovereign's return.
Theodore even had the feeling that if he stepped into that world of the dead, he wouldn't just pass unhindered—
He would possess supreme authority there.
"So this is the effect of Netherland Blessing?"
Theodore's thoughts flickered.
"But this doesn't match the system description at all."
"The system said I'd be protected by the Nether… but what I'm feeling is that the magical world's Nether is practically begging to put me on its throne."
"What is this?"
After a moment, a possibility struck him.
"Could it be that this Netherland Blessing talent—originating from the mythic Nether—makes my aura resemble the Nether of that realm?"
"And compared to that… the magical world's little realm of the dead is like a firefly before the moon—suppressed by sheer 'rank'."
"And that's why I'm not merely protected here…"
"I'm being treated like the Nether's ruler."
Theodore was more than satisfied.
It cost him nothing—who wouldn't love a free advantage?
And if he ever wanted to help Snape fulfill his wish by bringing Lily's soul fully back to the living—
Or deepen his relationship with Dumbledore and attempt to retrieve Ariana's soul—
He would have to deal with the realm of the dead.
But the original story implied that every use of the Resurrection Stone brought misfortune.
Anyone who tried to drag the dead back from death never ended well.
Last time, when Theodore briefly called Lily's soul back, she warned him that resurrecting the dead was taboo.
But now?
With Netherland Blessing, Theodore was effectively the king of the magical world's Nether.
If the king wanted to revive someone—
Who would dare stop him?
That was called privilege.
Then Theodore felt another force forming within him—something specialized, something directed at souls.
A thread of Origin Sea power flowed into it, and at his fingertip, a tiny mote of dim black light appeared.
In an instant, the Room of Requirement seemed to fill with a cold underworld wind, accompanied by faint, indistinct ghostly wails—
As though gods and ghosts alike feared that single speck of darkness.
And the moment that dim black light appeared, even the magical portraits near the Room of Requirement felt an instinctive dread.
They fled their frames, scrambling toward distant portraits as if seeking refuge.
Theodore stared at the mote quietly.
If he didn't possess the Indestructible Vajra Body—granting strong resistance against soul attacks—his own soul might have been trembling before it.
"Adjudge Soul, Sever Spirit…"
"This is the Judge's authority over souls."
"It does no harm to flesh or matter."
But to souls—it is absolute suppression.
Nearly total power over life and death.
"With this, destroying Voldemort's soul fragment without harming the diadem will be effortless."
Theodore then examined the final reward: the Judge's Brush Refining Method.
A moment later, surprise and joy appeared in his eyes.
He had assumed that for something as terrifying as the Judge's Brush, even if he obtained the method, gathering materials would be a distant dream.
But the method was unlike any artifact he'd seen.
It required neither rare ores nor divine flames nor spiritual waters.
It required condemned guilty souls—one after another.
The more guilty souls refined into it, the more monstrous and twisted those souls were…
the stronger the Judge's Brush would become.
Theodore's heart moved immediately.
Compared to other artifacts, these conditions were far more accessible.
And guilty souls?
He had one right in front of him.
And in terms of twisted souls—who in the magical world was more twisted than Tom Riddle?
In other words: Voldemort's Horcrux fragments were premium materials for refining the Judge's Brush.
Theodore's eyes lit up.
He found Ravenclaw's diadem once more and reached out.
The diadem's faint temptation seeped into the air.
"Put me on… and you will become the smartest wizard in the world…"
"Honor, status, wealth—everything will be within reach… come, little wizard… wear me…"
Theodore sneered.
The dim black light flared at his fingertip.
"Fiend. I can tell at a glance you're not human."
"The Underworld Judge is here—and you still dare use your ghost tricks?"
"Show yourself!"
His finger sliced through the air—
Black light flashed.
A shriek of terror exploded from within the diadem.
A transparent soul was forcibly severed and torn out—
Tom Riddle.
Before the fragment could even understand what had happened, Theodore formed the hand seals from the Judge's Brush method—the soul-adjudication technique bound to it.
A powerful suction seized Tom Riddle.
Space twisted.
The world fell away.
In the blink of an eye, he plunged into an abyssal underworld and was slammed down before a vast hall, like a court of Yama.
Upon the throne sat a figure wrapped in Nether aura—like the sovereign of the dead—cold eyes fixed upon Tom Riddle.
"Tom Riddle."
"Your crimes have come due."
"Today, this Lord will convene the Nether's Three Bureaus to try you—barbarian of a foreign land."
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