I became Voldemort

Chapter 158: The Soul in the Horcrux



Chapter 158: The Soul in the Horcrux

Cyrus did not find the location of the Athenaeum, but he had anticipated this.

If the Athenaeum were that easy to find, it couldn't have remained hidden at Hogwarts for so long.

He was prepared for a long-term search. In the meantime, he had turned the Room of Requirement into his bedroom. Until he found the Athenaeum, he could live there.

His "loyal" servant, Lucius Malfoy, had sent Cyrus Dobby—a house-elf with a bit of a rebellious streak.

Lucius was already working on the tasks Cyrus had given him, and every day Dobby brought Cyrus the latest edition of the Daily Prophet along with some of Lucius's reports.

Lucius was exceptionally diligent in this matter, more so than when he was basking in power under Voldemort. 

But it was understandable. The Malfoy family was notoriously adept at adapting to the prevailing winds. Before the Statute of Secrecy was enacted, they had no qualms about cooperating with Muggles. After the statute was passed, they immediately distanced themselves from Muggles. Ultimately, they were driven by the family's interests.

If Cyrus's plans for the goblins and Gringotts succeeded, the Malfoy family would naturally become the most powerful family in the British wizarding world!

At that point, the so-called Sacred Twenty-Eight would seem like a laughable joke to him.

Currently, Malfoy had already withdrawn all his wealth from Gringotts and was using it to bribe various newspapers to start a propaganda campaign against the bank.

Of course, he wasn't fighting this battle alone.

In Britain, besides the Sacred Twenty-Eight pure-blood families, there were many other pure-blood families. They might not have the legacy of the Malfoys or the Blacks, but they had accumulated considerable wealth. The first to support Lucius were the Goyle and Crabbe families.

They had been Malfoy followers for a long time.

Cyrus trusted Lucius with this matter, only needing to keep an eye on things occasionally. Controlling the wizarding economy was a long-term goal; for now, increasing his own power was more important. Besides searching for the Athenaeum, Cyrus was also studying the magical artifacts in his possession.

The Cup, the Diadem, the Resurrection Stone, and the Time-Turner.

The Gaunt family's ring was more of a keepsake, but the Cup and the Diadem were different. The Hufflepuff Cup clearly contained some powerful ancient magic, magic that even defied Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration.

Gamp's Law was practically the magical world's equivalent of the law of gravity.

Such a magical artifact was incredibly valuable, even if it lacked offensive capabilities. Yet Voldemort, that brainless idiot, had turned it into a Horcrux...

Cyrus took out the Cup and placed it on a table.

He didn't disturb the piece of Voldemort's soul within it. Instead, he took his wand and gently tapped the rim of the Cup.

*Clink—*

A clear sound echoed through the room.

"I want a cup of pumpkin juice," he said.

Immediately, the empty cup began to fill with an orange liquid that emitted the sweet aroma of pumpkin.

While summoning a cup of pumpkin juice could also be accomplished with a Summoning Charm, that charm required the caster to know the exact location of the food beforehand. However, Cyrus could clearly see that the magic within the Cup was not summoning.

It had indeed conjured the pumpkin juice out of thin air.

The pumpkin juice exuded a tempting fragrance, but Cyrus didn't dare take a sip.

Any food produced by a cup housing a piece of Voldemort's soul was unsettling, even if it appeared harmless.

Having completed his experiment with food, Cyrus poured out the pumpkin juice and continued tapping the cup's edge with his wand.

"Give me a cup of—" he paused, "Felix Felicis."

The Cup responded again, and this time, it filled with a large quantity of golden, translucent potion!

Cyrus had used Felix Felicis not long ago, so he easily recognized it. However, back then, he had only obtained a few drops of the potion.

Now, in front of Cyrus, was a cup brimming with it!

"I never expected it could even produce Felix Felicis."

He lifted the cup, causing the overflowing golden potion to spill onto the table. Such a wasteful act would undoubtedly earn him harsh criticism if anyone saw it!

The value of even a drop or two of such a precious potion was already unimaginable, let alone the significant amount Cyrus had just spilled.

Anyone who recognized its worth might disregard their dignity and try to lick the spilled Felix Felicis off the table...

However, Felix Felicis had side effects, and drinking one or two drops was almost the limit.

Drinking a whole cup of Felix Felicis would be tantamount to suicide.

After regretfully discarding the excess potion, Cyrus made one final attempt.

He carefully placed his wand against the edge of the cup and said, "Give me a cup of Elixir of Life."

This time, the cup remained unresponsive.

It made sense, after all. Even the cup couldn't produce something it had never encountered before. But what if he poured the Elixir of Life into it himself?

Could the cup replicate the Elixir of Life infinitely?

Determined to find out, Cyrus cut his finger and let a drop of blood fall into the cup.

He was revived through the Philosopher's Stone, making it essentially his heart. Each beat of his heart was a pulse of life, and every drop of his blood contained unparalleled vitality!

His blood itself was the Elixir of Life!

As the ruby-like blood touched the edge of the cup, it instantly surged up like a fountain, filling the cup with crimson liquid in no time!
The scarlet potion radiated a rich life force.

Cyrus thought it necessary to test the potion on some lab mice to see if the potion created by the cup, now a Horcrux, was still drinkable. If not, he would have to disguise himself as Tom Riddle once more.

"The magic contained within the cup is indeed ancient, and much more profound than typical ancient magic," Cyrus said, setting the cup down.

In front of him, an old, yellowing mouse with dry fur was immersed in the blood-colored potion.

This precious potion, which could be called the Elixir of Life, was being used by Cyrus as an experimental substance.

The mouse, lying in the Elixir of Life, was summoned by the Room of Requirement. Anything that existed within Hogwarts Castle and wasn't protected by special magic could be brought to Cyrus by the Room of Requirement.

Mice were not uncommon in Hogwarts. The basilisk lurking in the pipes had survived for centuries by feeding on them.

The elderly mouse, on the brink of death, seemed to undergo a transformation after being immersed in the golden cup. Its fur no longer appeared dry, its once gaunt body seemed to plump up, and the eyes that had turned white with age regained their dark, shiny appearance! It was almost as if time itself had been reversed—the Elixir of Life had not only extended the mouse's lifespan but even made it younger!

Cyrus was not surprised. The same potion could have different effects on different species. For a lower life form like a mouse, the effects of the Elixir of Life would naturally be more pronounced.

However, for higher life forms, especially magical creatures, there was an inherent magical resistance.

This strong magical resistance not only weakened the effects of enemy spells but also reduced the efficacy of potions. While the Elixir of Life could rejuvenate a mouse, it would likely only extend a wizard's lifespan without reversing their physical condition significantly.

This explained why Nicolas Flamel, despite living for so long, continued to age.

Cyrus had anticipated this outcome from the start. His experiment was not to verify this but for another purpose.

He watched quietly as the mouse, seemingly reborn from the blood, regained its vigor. It emerged from the blood, leaving a trail on the table, standing upright and alert, appearing perfectly normal.

"Completely great results without any worries?"

Cyrus was surprised. He had expected the items created by the cup to be tainted by Voldemort's soul fragment.

However, just as he thought the Elixir of Life had no issues, the mouse's body suddenly stiffened and then collapsed, letting out a horrifying scream!

The mouse curled up, writhing in agony on the table as if countless wizards were casting the Cruciatus Curse on it.

Then, a terrifying black mist enveloped it.

The mouse immediately went still.

Cyrus took a step back, staring at the black mist.

This was clearly a powerful and malevolent curse. It hadn't taken the mouse's life but had left it in a state worse than death.

The pain was just one aspect; Cyrus could see that the mouse's life was now cursed, turning it into a half-dead, half-alive creature.

At the same time, the once bright red blood in the cup seemed to oxidize, turning dull and gray, as if mixed with poison, transforming into a foul-smelling sludge.

The mouse stood up again, as if the previous pain had been an illusion. However, its skin began to rot instantly, the fur that had regained its luster now withered and fell off, emitting a decaying stench.

It resembled a zombie, moving purely out of primal instinct, a corpse with lingering consciousness.

"A pitiful creature."

This state couldn't be considered living, yet it wasn't truly dead either.

Cyrus's wand shot out a flame, reducing the mouse to ashes.

Just as he had suspected, anything conjured by the cup was now unusable. Voldemort's fragment had recklessly cursed the cup. Anyone who consumed something from the cup would meet the same fate as the mouse.

Those cursed by him would eventually become his sustenance.

Cyrus cursed Voldemort again.

The man was a destroyer of artifacts, ruining so many valuable items.

Creating Horcruxes was one thing, but choosing such powerful magical artifacts just to satisfy his nearly pathological collector's obsession was another. In essence, there was no difference between the cup Horcrux and the diary Horcrux.

The creation of a Horcrux didn't require anything special in the material; it could be anything, even a pebble from the roadside. What mattered was the fragment of the soul, not the container.

If it were up to Cyrus, he would have chosen a phoenix or a Dementor to create a Horcrux.

Imagine, an indestructible Horcrux—that would be the safest bet!

"Such a waste of the cup."

An artifact that could have infinitely produced the Elixir of Life—

Cyrus sighed. He had considered replicating the cup's magic and creating a new one, but that wasn't easy. The magic on the cup was ancient and exceptionally profound.

Although Cyrus indeed possessed the talent to learn ancient magic, this was merely a starting point, akin to a key allowing him to step through the door of ancient magic. However, how much of that magic he could truly master remained uncertain.

All Hogwarts students had wizarding talent, but not everyone could become masters in every field.

Potions, Charms, Transfiguration, Alchemy...

Achieving success in just one of these areas was already a sign of exceptional talent. Most students were average, and in fact, mediocrity was the norm.

The ancient magic on the cup was clearly very advanced, beyond Cyrus's current grasp.

"The cup isn't completely useless," Cyrus mused, stroking his chin. "At the very least, if I want to poison someone, I wouldn't have to go through the trouble of brewing potions..."

"Or, I could find a way to remove the fragment of Voldemort's soul from the cup?"

Extracting Voldemort's soul and restoring the cup to its original state was a thought that grew like a magically enchanted seed, quickly developing into a towering tree in Cyrus's mind.

It wasn't just about the cup's magic; studying Horcruxes was crucial for himself as well.

Cyrus was unsure if he still counted as Voldemort's Horcrux. Although his soul should no longer contain any trace of Voldemort's fragment, theoretically severing the connection between him and Voldemort, there was still uncertainty.

However, what if?

Matters of the soul were never certain.

Cyrus felt he should at least be prepared. If there ever came a day when he discovered the soul from the diary still haunting his mind, he needed the ability to excise it.

But he couldn't use the cup for experimentation. If it failed and the cup was destroyed, it would be a significant loss.

Cyrus carefully put away the cup and then took out the Gaunt family ring.

He had already removed the Resurrection Stone from the ring, which, in itself, didn't have any special use other than symbolizing the Gaunt lineage. Such an item, even if destroyed, wouldn't cause Cyrus any distress.

"Creating a Horcrux requires the soul to split, and splitting the soul necessitates murder. According to *Advanced Dark Magic*, to reunite the split soul, one must repent..."

Cyrus found this a bit unreliable.

Leaving aside that the one who committed the murders was Voldemort, why should he repent on his behalf?

Even if he did repent, it probably wouldn't work since, at the end of the day, they weren't the same person.

Getting Voldemort to repent was an even more absurd idea. If Voldemort were capable of repentance, he wouldn't be Voldemort.

"We still have to think of other ways."Cyrus thought. "The soul in a Horcrux is, after all, an external entity and cannot completely merge with the container. If I could extract it from the container, or perhaps... lure it out?"

Just like after he was resurrected from the diary, the diary was no longer a Horcrux. If the soul in the ring was also resurrected, would the ring no longer be a Horcrux?

But...

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12 Advance Chapters-


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