Return of Salazar Slytherin

Rhys's blunt truth remained hurtful, but Riddle had no time to feel angry.

He was utterly baffled and confused: why had his Killing Curse failed?

It felt as though he had thrown an icicle into a vat of molten steel, where it had vaporized halfway through.

"You seem perplexed. Are you wondering why your Killing Curse vanished?"

Rhys's voice rang out at just the right moment.

Riddle, pushing aside all other emotions, nodded at Rhys.

He wanted to understand how Rhys had done it.

"The strength of a spell is tied to emotions—you understand that much, don't you?" Rhys didn't hold back, even though he didn't have a high opinion of Riddle.

He earnestly began explaining the disintegration spell he had just used.

Tom nodded again. He did understand the relationship between spells and emotions. Without sufficient intensity and the right emotions, even a deadly curse like the Killing Curse would amount to little more than causing a nosebleed.

"But spells are ultimately powered by magic itself. I hope you can grasp this: wizards either draw upon their internal magic or harness the magic in their surroundings. Then they mix it with emotions and various auxiliary methods to create all kinds of unique spells."

"If you understand this much, you should be able to comprehend the disintegration magic I just used."

The expression on Riddle's face changed to one of surprise as he stood opposite Rhys. "So, you mean to say you constructed a wall of magic in front of yourself and forcibly broke down my Killing Curse?"

"More or less," Rhys replied casually, "but this requires me to have a deep understanding of the spell you cast. Otherwise, such a thin layer of magical barrier wouldn't have enough time to disassemble your spell. Compared to this, the Shield Charm and its prototypes are more reliable."

"When did you…" Riddle couldn't help but mutter to himself. The boy before him clearly didn't have a wand, and his hands were still bound, yet he had managed to conjure a magical barrier right in front of him. Even more shocking, Riddle hadn't sensed it at all!

"This is the gap in skill, as well as in knowledge," Rhys said calmly. "I've always believed that the current wizarding world's neglect of teaching magical flow is a colossal mistake. You're so dull to it that you couldn't even feel me setting up a magical barrier in front of you. It's almost visible to the naked eye."

As Rhys channeled his magic to his eyes, a faint, translucent blue "wall," barely a finger's thickness, shimmered into existence in front of him.

Riddle sighed. He could feel the vast difference between himself and Rhys.

"I didn't expect that after my slumber, the wizarding world would make such astonishing advancements in magic. It's unbelievable."

Rhys: "…"

Riddle's words felt like they had cast a Silencing Charm on Rhys, leaving him momentarily speechless.

Tom Riddle glanced at Rhys, his expression unreadable.

He decided to employ another method to deal with him—a method that had never failed him before. It was the most powerful "magic" he had discovered during his weaker years: words.

"Let me reintroduce myself," Riddle said softly, his voice dripping with friendliness. "This is my true name, past, present, and future, Rhys Linth—"

Riddle pulled Ginny's wand from his pocket and waved it through the air, tracing out three gleaming words: Tom Marvolo Riddle. Then, with another flick of the wand, the letters rearranged themselves, forming: I am Lord Voldemort.

"You should have heard this name before," Riddle said with a touch of regret. "Heard of my struggles to carry on Slytherin's legacy. Unfortunately, according to Ginny, I failed."

But then, his tone shifted, now laced with temptation and allure. "Things are different now. I've met you. This is fate—no, it is Slytherin's divine will from beyond the grave that has brought us together."

"There is indeed a unique bond between us," Rhys interrupted calmly, "one that means you'll be of great help to me—past, present, and future." (A/N: LoL)

Riddle's spirits lifted at Rhys's words: Excellent, he seemed to be taking the bait!

Considering Rhys's apparent connection to Slytherin, Riddle decided to use the sort of rhetoric Slytherins loved to hear.

The truth was, Riddle had no real "ideals." If he genuinely cared about fulfilling "Slytherin's cause," why would he even consider murdering Ginny Weasley, a pureblood witch? From start to finish, he was an opportunist. All his talk of "Slytherin's legacy" and "restoring the glory of purebloods" was nothing more than a façade.

He tailored his words to his audience—whatever worked to achieve his goals. To him, Rhys seemed like someone tied to Slytherin, so naturally, Riddle leaned on the rhetoric of pureblood supremacy.

"Together, we can achieve the grand vision Slytherin himself could not accomplish!" Riddle declared fervently.

Hearing Riddle's words, Rhys couldn't help but feel a sense of foreboding.

Surely not… was he really about to say that?

"Eradicate every single Muggle-born wizard! Restore Hogwarts to its purity!"

Rhys: Of course.

In that moment, his expression hovered on the edge of composure, teetering between barely holding it together and completely breaking.

Please, I beg you all—can we stop using Slytherin's name for this nonsense?

It's utterly embarrassing…

Back in his own time, while Rhys had opposed admitting students with no wizarding lineage, he had still treated those who were admitted fairly. At most, he'd kept an eye on their rhetoric and monitored their ideological leanings.

But this?

Killing all of them outright?

What even was this logic?

For a moment, Rhys didn't know how to respond.

Noticing how his words had seemingly "shocked" Rhys into silence, Riddle nodded in satisfaction. Then, he launched into a fervent and passionate speech.

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