Tom Riddle's milky white body floated in the air, and Elwyn's doubts grew stronger.
He actually said that when he was created, he did not know how to make a soul tool, nor did he know how to split a soul. How did he come out?
But one thing was certain, there was something strange about this soul tool.
"Professor Lagerhorn liked me very much. He gave me a lot of privileges and help, he … Alright, let's talk about the soul tool," Riddle said, carefully dodging Gryffindor's sword that was aimed at him. Riddle said as he carefully dodged Gryffindor's sword that was aimed at him. He slowly moved to the front of the ring in the cabinet. "My appearance was an accident. Strictly speaking, I am not a soul tool. Or rather, I am a special soul tool. My appearance was not part of the original plan, nor was it created according to normal methods."
"What do you mean?"
"Just as you know, I was looking for a way to create a soul tool at that time. I had a few key questions that I had yet to figure out, including how to split my own soul, although I already had some guesses about it." Riddle said, "But I did not want to create my first soul tool so quickly. First, I did not find a suitable tool, and secondly, I did not want to do it under Dumbledore's eyes. That would be too stupid, wouldn't it?"
Elwyn replied with silence, but he agreed with Riddle's thoughts.
Although Dumbledore was not the headmaster at that time, he was already recognized as the strongest Magus.
It was possible to play some tricks and establish his own force under his watch. After all, this was Slytherin's tradition.
However, to conduct such evil magic research and create a soul tool was too risky. If he were to give himself away, he would be consigned to eternal damnation.
Even so, Elwyn knew that Riddle succeeded in the end!
The ring and the diary were created when he was still a student. He was only 15 and 16 years old at that time.
Of course, he stopped after that because he had already aroused Dumbledore's suspicions.
"I didn't have that many thoughts at the time. It might sound funny, but I just wanted to stay at Hogwarts. After all, it was the first place I could call home." Riddle paused for a moment before continuing, "The year I entered the fifth grade, I received news that Professor Mellors, who was in charge of the Defense Against Dark Magic Arts class, was about to retire. He was already very old and had been in this position for fifty years. If possible, I hope to take over his position. "
"You're off topic again!" Elwyn reminded. "I'm not interested in what your dream is at all."
Whether or not what Liddell said was true, it was what he thought when he was fifteen. There was no point in understanding it.
Their real problem now was the Lord Voldemort, whose soul had been torn apart and who had joined hands with the Evil God, not the ambitious fifteen-year-old Tom Riddle, who was ready to do something big. And his ideas were undoubtedly ridiculous.
History had proven everything. He did not succeed in getting that position. Dumbledore had rejected him.
"Do you know why I hate communicating with brats like you?" Riddle said disdainfully. "You lack patience …"
"You're not much older than me," Elwyn retorted.
"My actual age is more than enough to be your grandparents. Don't treat me like a brat like you."
"Obviously, if you count the time you've been locked in the drawer for more than half a century, then you're indeed much older than me. What a rich and colorful life." As Elwyn spoke, he pointed the Gryffindor sword in his hand at Riddle. "I have to remind you again, and this will be the last time. The brat you speak of can decide whether you want to exist or not. My patience is indeed running out. Please do not challenge me unless you want to see if Gryffindor's sword is as sharp as the legends say."
"What do you want to know?" Riddle's face darkened again.
"Continue talking about your body, which is the specific process of creating this soul tool." As Elwyn spoke, he pointed the sword at the ring in the cabinet. "Since you didn't master the specific method of splitting your soul and creating a soul tool, how were you created?"
"As I said earlier, I can split my soul through evil actions. Perhaps I'm too evil." Riddle suddenly let out a strange laugh, as if amused by his own answer. "Yes, that must be it. I killed my own father with my own hands and ended the filthy Muggle that was related to me by blood. Is there anything more evil than this? Perhaps because of this, I split from my body. "
Elwyn frowned. Was this the specific process? Killing my own father caused my soul to automatically split?
This kind of action was indeed evil, and it sounded like it, but it was also a little strange.
If it was that simple, soul tools would probably be everywhere!
The most obvious example was Barty Crouch Jr., who worshipped Lord Voldemort to the point of insanity.
Therefore, he killed his own father with his own hands. This made him feel that he had something in common with Lord Voldemort, but his soul did not split.
Could it be that he wasn't as evil as the fifteen-year-old Tom Riddle, and his hatred for his father wasn't as strong as Riddle's?
That didn't make sense at all. Barty Crouch Jr. was a pure pervert.
In terms of evil alone, although there was no way to compare, he was definitely not weaker than the fifteen-year-old Riddle.
"You're not telling the truth!" Elwyn said, staring into Riddle's eyes. "Don't think I don't know anything."
Tom Riddle rarely avoided Elwyn's gaze. This was not like him at all.
"You're much harder to deal with than I thought!" His voice quickly regained its calmness. "I originally planned to use this as a bargaining chip with Dumbledore, but now it seems that I have to say it. The jewel on the ring, which is the Resurrection Stone you mentioned, has a special power, a very special power …"
"The Resurrection Stone won't split a person's soul!"
"It won't, but it can let you meet Death."
"Death?!"
"Yes, that's what he called himself. This Resurrection Stone and the ring combined to form a strange magic, one that I can't understand, "Riddle said. "That night, it brought me to the Kingdom of the Dead, where I met many people, including my father, my mother, my maternal grandfather, and Death. When I returned, a part of my soul was left there forever, never to return to my body, which is the me you see now."
Elwyn looked at him and raised his eyebrows. This sounded like the most absurd novel.
He had never heard or imagined that the Resurrection Stone would have such power, at least not in the original work.
"Incredible, isn't it? But I'm telling the truth this time. There's magic on the ring that I don't understand. "
"Even if what you said is true, don't tell me you didn't study it …"
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