Who let this Dementor into Hogwarts!

Chapter 560 The Despicable Halbo
“Runic runes that restrict wizarding magic,” the goat said. “I know who you are, human.”

“Humans?” Cohen narrowed his eyes.

“His name is Helbo, a wizard from long ago, so long ago that we were just young animals,” the goat said coldly. “He is the one who killed the lion.”

Then, a rope appeared out of nowhere and bound the "Voldemort" puppet—or rather, Helbo—tightly.

“The despicable Halbo?” Cohen remembered the name, the first wizard to create Horcruxes and breed basilisks, who invented many evil spells and was infamous.

Damn it, Cohen actually thought there were evil gods in this world.

“It’s a shame you’ve all grown so big,” Helbo said in a disgusting, drawn-out tone. “I thought little animals that betray their fathers didn’t live long.”

“Father?” Cohen looked at the goat in surprise.

"Roar—" The lion was still growling at Hailbo, as if it would pounce on him and tear him to shreds as soon as the goat stopped it.

“I created them, little Cohen,” Halpert said with a sneer. “See? This is how they treat their true father. They’ll do the same to you, you impure child. These beasts are all the same—”

"If you say another bad word about me, I'll bite you to death!" Sissoko hissed angrily.

"Shut up, little snake," Helpo said lazily to Sissoko.

Sissoko froze completely—logically, it shouldn't have been under the control of the snake-like voice after being injected with a bunch of strange reagents.

But Helpo, as the first person to cultivate the basilisk, clearly knew some more profound methods of control.

“I can still let him choose to die. Little Cohen, do you want to see that?” Helbo asked Cohen with a smile, as if he himself wasn’t the one being awkwardly bound. “Imagine your dear serpent father swallowing himself piece by piece—”

Suddenly, Helbo's mouth remained slightly open, and he couldn't make a sound.

“Don’t you remember? Your magic is useless now,” Cohen said, then waved to Sissoko, “Sissoko, go outside for a bit, I need to question this guy properly.”

Sissoko glared at Halpo with malice, then obediently dashed out as Cohen had instructed.

Only then did Cohen release Halbo's mouth.

Haibo moved his jaw slightly—

"Where's my nose? Where's my nose?! What have you done to me?!" Helbo's eyes widened suddenly, and dark red veins appeared on his pale face.

"Is a nose that important? I thought you dark wizards liked to make yourselves look like neither humans nor ghosts," Cohen said, leaning closer to Halberd. "And you like to burrow into little wizards' bodies? Were you a priest before?"

“I can understand your desire for revenge, after all, I’ve been playing with you in your dreams for so long…” Halbo sneered, “but what can you do to me? Eat me? Kill me? Or seal me in this Muggle’s body for the rest of my life?”

"Then let's try them one by one," Cohen said nonchalantly. "I thought it was some evil god invading the world, but it turns out to be an old man's ghost—the Goat. Didn't you say that summoning charm came from outer space?"

“Looks like he’s been thrown out of this world,” said the goat. “But I’m back, and that guy who was against me isn’t,” said Helbo, raising an imaginary eyebrow (Voldemort’s face was hairless), “or rather, I’m coming back soon…”

“You mean you’re just a scout?” Cohen said. “A piece of the real Helpo? That’s something to be proud of.”

“Keep mocking me,” Helbo sneered. “I’ve already sent out the signal. The real me knows the way home, and he’ll be back soon—you can’t stop him, nobody can stop him.”

“That’s terrifying,” Cohen said. “And then what? The world’s greatest dark wizard returns, only to be driven away by some old man with a white beard?”

As if stung, Helbo said fiercely:
"Who do you rely on? That guy named Dumbledore? He's full of weaknesses, he'd be walking towards his death without even a few spells—oh, or you think there's you here... a kind-hearted hybrid Dementor who wouldn't even hurt a normal person, all the materials I used to create you were my creations! You'll never be able to defeat me in reality, kid, I can turn you into a pile of dust anytime and hear your painful screams!"

Cohen stared into Helbo's eyes.

"Feeling guilty? I can smell a hint of fear in your eyes." Cohen moved closer. "Have you ever been a Dementor? Have you ever smelled the scent of emotions? Do you know how accurate it is to judge facts based on emotions? I've never misjudged based on emotions..."

“Then you’re going to make a mistake. I’m not afraid at all,” Halpert said. “What you’re smelling is your own—little thing, you know you can’t be a real match for me…”

"Is that so?" Cohen said with a smile. "Then why are you trying so hard to take over my body? Are you waiting for your original self to descend, and then together with him to build some kind of evil empire that blots out the sky?"

“I will merge with him,” Helbo said. “I will return to my own body and together we will once again rule this weak and ignorant world.”

“Liar. Only repentance can mend the soul torn apart when a Horcrux was made, and he will not repent, you know that yourself,” Cohen said. “You are not on his side at all, you don’t even want him to come back, otherwise you would have sent the signal fifteen years ago, instead of now.”

"You want to replace him, and I am your only chance, or at least that's what you think, that I can grow into a being qualified to defeat your original self."

“But you can’t,” Helbo said coldly. “You’re just like all the other weaklings. Your family, your friends, they’re all your weaknesses. You’re just as fragile as that guy named Dumbledore, unless I…”

“Cohen, don’t trust him—” the goat said hastily.

Cohen waved his hand to indicate that everything was alright.

“You have no right to negotiate with me,” Cohen said to Helbo. “I don’t need you anymore—all your value has vanished because of the signal you just sent out. What follows is my own one-man show.”

“You can’t get rid of me,” Halbo said ominously. “Our souls are sewn together—kill me and you will die anyway; without me, you’re just a pile of fragments that should have shattered long ago!”

But he was somewhat surprised to find that Cohen still looked relaxed.

He wasn't lying—even if Cohen sensed his own emotions, he should have believed he was telling the truth.

"You invented the Horcrux yourself."

Cohen shrugged and said,
"Thank you for leaving behind this magical treasure. Now all I need to do is make a Horcrux."

(End of this chapter)