After effortlessly neutralizing the lethal Killing Curse, Harry didn't stop his Transfiguration.
Boom!
In the next instant, the ground split and shattered.
Massive amounts of earth rolled and surged like a boiling tide, streaming nonstop toward Harry's feet.
First, it sketched the outline of a head. Then a burly torso rose straight from the ground, and thick limbs took shape one after another. In the blink of an eye, a towering, imposing stone giant was fully formed!
Harry stood steady atop the stone giant, more than ten meters high, looking down at Voldemort as he said flatly, "Next, it's my turn."
The stone giant's physical power was terrifying, its body as hard as steel.
But the reason this magic was so formidable—so much so that even the Sorcerer Supreme took it seriously—wasn't that the stone giant's raw body matched the Abomination's. It was the amplification it provided to earth-element magic.
Inside the stone giant's body, a vast number of runes had been solidified.
These runes didn't just reinforce the giant's durability; they also linked up with Harry, acting as an "amplifier" to strengthen the earth-element magic he cast!
"Awooo!"
The stone giant let out a thunderous roar, the rolling sound waves making Hermione and the others' ears ache even from far away.
It raised its stone arms high, swinging them with force. With a shriek of cutting air, it poured all its strength into a full-power smash at the ground beneath its feet!
With the howling wind, fists weighing dozens of tons collided with the earth.
Yet the expected scene—ground pulverized into pieces—didn't happen. Instead, something bizarre occurred.
The stone giant's hands sank into the ground without resistance, as if the earth weren't solid at all, but liquid like water!
After a brief silence, the ground under Voldemort's feet began to tremble faintly.
That subtle ripple made Voldemort's expression change drastically. He reacted instantly, casting an Iron Armor Charm over himself to withstand the incoming attack!
Boom!
The charm had only just formed when the earth beneath him was forcibly torn open. Two thick stone arms shot out at high speed and smashed into him, hurling him away!
Hit by that sudden heavy punch, cracks immediately spread across the Iron Armor Charm—ready to split apart at any moment!
Voldemort felt his organs trembling, even slightly rupturing.
The violent pain twisting through his body contorted his face, and he let out a scream.
But none of that mattered. None of it was fatal.
There was still plenty of unicorn blood he'd drunk earlier that hadn't been fully absorbed.
Though it carried a powerful curse, it also possessed tremendous healing ability.
Even if Voldemort ignored everything, in just a few dozen seconds, the injuries from that blow would be completely healed by the unicorn blood's miraculous restorative magic!
So Voldemort gritted through the pain—and, oddly, suddenly barked, "Shut up." After the screaming stopped, he steadied himself in midair dozens of meters above the ground.
He hovered there in an eerie stillness. The cold wind blew his hood aside, revealing the face he had kept hidden for so long.
Only then did Harry see what Voldemort looked like now.
Under the hood was an unfamiliar face—gaunt cheeks nearly hollow, skin pulled tight over sharp cheekbones, giving him a skeletal look.
His features were twisted together, every line seeming carved with endless evil and madness.
And the most chilling part was this:
That face was on the back of Quirrell's head.
The grotesque visage writhed violently, as if countless tiny worms crawled beneath the skin, trying to prop up bone and make it more three-dimensional.
As the writhing intensified, Voldemort's sunken nose slowly rose into shape, and he regained a faint trace of humanity.
Even though he was weak and in a terrible position, Voldemort's manner remained elegant—like an aristocrat. With an inborn arrogance, he slowly studied Harry and the stone giant beneath him.
After a moment, Voldemort spoke in a hoarse voice, low and heavy:
"Harry Potter, we meet again. Look at that—such interesting magic, and strength equally astonishing.
It seems the prophecy truly has some weight. At the same age, I was far less powerful than you. All the better—this is the perfect chance to get rid of you!"
While Voldemort examined Harry, Harry was also watching Voldemort.
Harry's expression was grim. Sensing the staggering magic within Voldemort, he realized Voldemort was even stronger than he'd imagined.
But that strength was still within his expectations. In the next breath, he demanded, "Voldemort—was it you who killed my father and mother?"
The loneliness of childhood, the loss of his parents—those had always been Harry's obsession.
The moment he learned the truth, Harry had decided he would kill Voldemort completely to avenge them.
And right now was unquestionably the best opportunity.
Voldemort let out a dark laugh that sent chills down the spine, brimming with endless cold.
His face was ashen and gloomy, bloodless—like a wandering corpse that made people instinctively recoil in disgust.
"Yes. That was an unforgettable memory.
Because of that damned prophecy, I found you. And when I was about to kill you, your mother—trying to protect you—released powerful ancient magic through her love for you!
That magic made it impossible for me to harm you. So when I cast the Killing Curse at you, the curse was rebounded by that ancient magic and struck me instead—killing me!
Hahahaha… look at you, Potter—look at what I've become. What is this?
To survive, I had to do something. I possessed another person, became a parasite, and had to endure that unbearable garlic stench every single day just to stay hidden!
Unicorn blood can prolong my life, but it turns me into this rotting wraith—and still won't give me my own body.
But there's something that can solve all of it. Since I've been exposed, I'm taking it today.
But before that, I'll kill you—end that damned prophecy for good!"
Harry tightened his grip on his wand. His face remained calm, but his eyes burned with rage. "Then come. Let's end that so-called prophecy right here!"
They moved almost at the same time, both using nonverbal spellcasting for speed.
In an instant, two spells of the same color collided. At the point of impact, the magical radiance churned like a vortex, erupting with a dazzling brilliance in the air!
And as time passed, the collision point began drifting—slowly—toward Harry.
In this direct clash, Harry was being pushed back!
Seeing that, Voldemort's face turned savage. He desperately squeezed out Quirrell's magic, even at the cost of draining his life.
With arrogance on his face, Voldemort stood in the sky, looking down as he said:
"Harry Potter—you actually dare to contest the Killing Curse with me? What do you have to fight me with?
The Killing Curse isn't like other spells. It doesn't just require powerful magic—it requires absolute intent to kill!
I've slaughtered without mercy and committed every evil. I killed hundreds of people. My killing intent is pure and decisive—how could you possibly be my match?"
"Oh." Harry replied blandly, neither agreeing nor disagreeing, and then asked, "So what about the second day?"
"Huh?"
Voldemort's face went blank. He didn't understand what Harry Potter meant.
Seeing that Hagrid had already taken Hermione and Ron away, Harry relaxed completely. Facing Voldemort's confusion, he teased him:
"So? How many did you kill on the second day?"
At Harry's words, Voldemort's expression twisted beyond recognition.
Voldemort had thought that once he said those things, Harry would show fear—if nothing else, he'd panic and lose his composure, his combat power dropping sharply. But instead, Harry showed no fear at all and even mocked him!
How could any wizard in this world possibly slaughter several hundred people in a single day?
Even Grindelwald, back then, could never have done that!
Harry, who had been facing Voldemort the whole time, naturally caught the shift in Voldemort's expression and couldn't help letting out a quiet breath.
As expected, the wizarding world was relatively peaceful. A Dark Lord branded as a demon king had only killed a few hundred people in his entire life.
That "achievement" wasn't even as good as Harry's.
During a single magic meltdown in the past, he had wiped out tens of thousands of terrorists in one evil civilization in one go.
And the whole process had taken only a few dozen minutes!
Now Voldemort was thoroughly enraged by Harry.
He whipped his wand up, roaring, and the Killing Curse's power surged dramatically!
The previously deadlocked collision point seemed shoved by an overwhelming force, rushing toward Harry—trying to swallow him and kill him.
But in that moment, the space around Harry twisted, and he vanished from where he stood!
In a flash, he appeared behind Voldemort. A sharp, chirping sound—Chidori—rang out in his hand as he drew a lightning sword and slashed for Voldemort's throat!
Voldemort blanched, Apparating away just as fast. When he reappeared dozens of meters away, he stared warily at the lightning sword in Harry's hand, jealousy written all over his face as he snarled:
"Damn bloodline magic. Once I catch you, I'll tear every bit of your power out of your soul and flesh!"
Harry had no interest in talking. The tip of his wand fired another green beam of magic!
Voldemort sneered. "Potter, you still never learn!"
But the instant the beams collided again, the expression on his face froze.
This time, the collision point didn't creep toward Harry at all—instead, it shot rapidly toward Voldemort!
He focused on Harry's green beam, and the veins on his forehead bulged.
"Damn it—this isn't the Killing Curse. It's your Disintegrate!"
Harry's mind didn't ripple in the slightest. He felt no guilt about ambushing a dying old man.
All he wanted now was to kill Voldemort as quickly as possible.
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