Ancient Wizards Return to Hogwarts...

Chapter 412 Rice: I didn't even get to use my full strength

Without restraint, Rice condensed the sea of ​​blood into a small net in front of him in an instant.

Rice raised his hand, and the net flew towards Voldemort's large black ball.

Voldemort felt his normally stable magic suddenly fluctuate violently, and the divine remains that were originally fused with his body also reacted fiercely.

Oops!

Voldemort's expression changed drastically. Such a huge blunder in the circulation of his magic had a devastating impact on his spell. He instinctively tried to withdraw the power of death back to himself to minimize his losses, but it was too late. The sphere formed by his domain had already collided with the net formed by Rice's domain.

Voldemort's black sphere shattered in less than a second.

"Tom, powers that are not yours will eventually leave you," Rice said calmly. He hadn't done anything; he had simply revealed the true nature of his magic.

He had long sensed a familiar aura emanating from Voldemort, and after careful examination, he discovered that Voldemort had fused with the remains of several "old acquaintances."

So Rice couldn't help but greet his "old friends." Clearly, his enthusiastic greeting excited them, instantly disrupting Voldemort's magical flow.

Voldemort used external forces to climb to a height that was not rightfully his. Although he stood taller and could see farther, it was all a castle built on sand. When Rice kicked the sand dune hard, Voldemort's castle began to crumble.

Even if the undead are unmoved by Rice, he has nothing to worry about. He can simply use his domain power to confront them head-on; Voldemort is far inferior in the application of domains.

Swish!

Voldemort barely managed to dodge the attack from the web of domains, but he paid the price with an arm.

The arm, ensnared by the net of power, was sliced ​​into pieces of flesh the size of the mesh. Voldemort believed that if he had been a few seconds later, his body would have suffered the same fate.

Although he had lost an arm, Voldemort didn't take the minor injury to heart. Even without the power of his domain, he could still use magic to repair the missing arm, let alone with the enhancement of his domain.

Just a moment, a single instant—wait?

Voldemort stared in astonishment at the severed section of his arm. He had just used the remaining power of his domain, but had failed to restore his arm.

After examining the severed section more closely, Voldemort noticed a layer of dark red blood covering it. He suddenly realized: the opponent's domain was interfering with the regeneration of his severed limb!

Voldemort realized that he wouldn't be able to grow his arm back unless he removed the residual domain power from the wound.

Rice stood to one side, quietly watching Voldemort examine his wounds.

"Tom, this is the power of a domain. By the way, speaking of which, I have to correct you on a word choice. It's 'domain,' not 'divine realm'—wait, your power comes from the ancient gods, so calling it a divine realm doesn't seem wrong..." Rice's teaching habit was inadvertently triggered, and he gave Voldemort a long, rambling lecture.

Voldemort's face turned bright red as he listened to the sound, which was as faint as a mosquito's buzz.

He was filled with hatred, hating that the divine remains had failed him at the crucial moment, and hating his own lack of strength, which prevented him from tearing the person in front of him to pieces!

Seeing that the "students" were unwilling to listen, Rice shut his mouth and walked directly toward Voldemort.

Seeing Rice approach, Voldemort was greatly alarmed. He immediately gathered his remaining death energy, but before he could launch an attack, Rice's sea of ​​blood surged forth, instantly shattering Voldemort's domain. After the black sphere was shattered, Voldemort lost the ability to fight Rice.

Along with Voldemort's domain, the undead he summoned also perished. Deprived of Voldemort's power supply, the undead were quickly wiped out by the puppets.

Rhys stood before Voldemort, calmly gazing at him. Voldemort wanted to retaliate; he wasn't one to sit idly by and wait to die, but the hand that held his wand had already been severed.

"Did the Sorting Hat say anything to you when you were Sorted?" Rice asked out of the blue.

"What?" Voldemort was taken aback. The Sorting Ceremony seemed to have happened a very, very long time ago, but he still remembered the scene vividly.

"The moment I touched that hat, it decided to sort me into Slytherin House, saying that Slytherin would help me achieve great things." He actually answered Rice's question seriously.

Rice: ...

It seems really necessary to upgrade the Sorting Hat; stop sorting weirdos into your houses!

After learning about Muggle colleges, Rice believes that the Sorting Hat has its drawbacks: the 100% acceptance rate is inherently unreasonable!

Hogwarts seems to accept all students with magical talent from across Britain, which is outrageous. This results in some oddballs being admitted, making it difficult to sort them into houses.

Should we screen the students to be admitted? The thought popped into Rice's mind, but he felt that Helga would vehemently oppose the idea.

Perhaps there are other methods, such as adopting the strategy of Muggles and dividing Hogwarts into several grades, similar to Muggles' middle school, high school, and university, in which unsuitable students could be gradually weeded out...

That might be the way to get past Helga.

Rice gathered his thoughts and began to reconsider how to deal with Voldemort.

Killing this guy is out of the question right now, and it would be such a waste, but I can't just let him walk away so easily either. I can handle him with ease, but others can't.

In those few short moments, Rice considered many things. Finally, the sea of ​​blood rose high, coalescing into a spear that pierced Voldemort's chest.

"Ah!" Voldemort screamed in agony.

"Your strength is far too weak; you couldn't even make me use my full strength. This is truly disappointing." Rice's face was full of boredom, as if the battle just now was nothing more than a tedious charade for him.

A glint of light flashed in Voldemort's eyes: he had seized the opportunity!

The moment this mysterious expert made his move, his boundless domain receded!

It's now!

With a snap, Voldemort roused himself and Apparated, escaping with the spear formed from the sea of ​​blood.

Rice made no reaction and just watched Voldemort escape.

Only then did the Aurors, who had retreated to a distance, slowly approach. They felt as if their entire worldview had been shattered.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

It's a bit late, but the update is still here! Goodnight everyone.

There'll be another chapter tonight; I'll write it when I get home from get off work.

(End of this chapter)