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Chapter 159: Rolf: Tom, Ill send you on your way

The gray-green potion roared and splashed, falling on the trees and rocks, making a hissing and corroding sound.

A group of crows living in the nearby long brown grass were also startled by the eardrum-piercing explosion. They screamed and fluttered their wings into the air.

Peter Pettigrew was completely confused. No matter how stupid he was, he realized that this was not a normal phenomenon for resurrection, and something must have gone wrong.

"Master..." Peter called loudly: "Are you okay?"

Before he finished speaking, he suddenly saw a figure crawling out from under the broken crucible. Through the dense smoke, his face could barely be seen clearly:

He was only about one meter tall, with limbs as thin as a baby's, but his belly was round and protruding, and his head was disproportionately large. Under his bulging forehead was a strange, twisted face, with red eyes.

The man's whole body was covered with thick and long red hair, making him look more like a beast than a wizard!

With such a strange and terrifying shape, anyone who saw it would inevitably change their color and scream in surprise. Peter pointed at him and said in a trembling voice: "You...you..."

The red-haired monster slowly walked over and said in a hoarse voice: "Wormtail...it's me."

"Master...Master?" Peter exclaimed in disbelief.

The Dark Lord's noseless face was ugly enough before, but at least it was only disfigured and his body was still good. Now not only is his face disfigured, but his body also looks like a pregnant dwarf, with red hair all over his body...

Peter didn't dare to look at it any longer, and quickly put on the preparation robe for Voldemort. He asked tentatively:

"Master, has your resurrection been successful?"

"Failed!" Voldemort opened his red eyes, stared straight at Peter and said:

"There's something wrong with the three medicines you put in."

"How could it be?" Peter said in horror: "There must be nothing wrong with my flesh...the blood of my enemies...could it be that the wizard is not Harry Potter, but also pretending to be one?"

"That person is indeed pretending." Only then did Voldemort realize, and he said slowly:

"On the night when I lost my magic and body, Potter's mother died trying to save him... Potter inadvertently gained some kind of protection... I can't touch him."

"When I attacked the wizard, I was able to bite his neck... He is indeed not Harry Potter."

Peter breathed a sigh of relief, as long as it was not his fault, but he heard the Dark Lord say quietly:

"Even if that person is not Potter, he is still a wizard who hates me, otherwise he would not go to the appointment tonight... His blood is the blood of the enemy... It will also work on me."

Peter's heart was hanging again, and he whispered: "Then the problem can only be..."

Father's bones.

Voldemort stared at Peter, he smiled horribly, and his red eyes became hollow and cold.

"Wormtail, whose bones did you put there?!"

"Master, these are your father's bones." Peter said with fear on his face: "I will never be mistaken."

"Wormtail, now I doubt whether you are a spy sent by Dumbledore." Voldemort said softly.

"How could it be?" Peter just started crying, sobbing, and his whole body was shaking.

"Master, I am your loyal servant. I found you and helped you resurrect..."

"What kind of loyalty? You are just timid." Voldemort said coldly:

"You were able to betray your best friend out of fear back then, and of course you can betray me now..."

Peter fell to the ground, crawling at Voldemort's feet, and screamed:

"Master...I don't have it!"

"Whether or not, you have disappointed me...I am very disappointed in you..."

Voldemort sneered and took out a wand from his clothes. He pointed at Wormtail and said in a cold voice:

"Heart-piercing and bone-cutting!"

Peter screamed in agony, every nerve in him seemed to be on fire and he kept twitching.

After being tortured for a while, Voldemort found that his slender legs were trembling, and the fingers holding the wand were also trembling.

This body that failed to be resurrected cannot support his powerful strength at all. As long as he uses too much magic power, he may explode!

The Dark Lord had no choice but to stop the torture. Peter lay on the ground gasping for air. His eyes suddenly widened and he looked to the sky in horror.

Voldemort also turned to look, and in the distance, a giant bird appeared, hovering in the air, with a blue body, like a beautiful brocade, and a slender tail.

Peter said in shock: "Airwing Bird?!"

The explosion just now woke up the air-winged bird from its half-sleep. Now it woke up very angry and stared at the two wizards who disturbed it.

It took a breath, and suddenly its abdomen bulged, its whole body expanded like a ball, and it made a cooing sound.

From a distance, it looks like an enlarged version of a puffer fish.

The air-winged bird opened its mouth, and a strong wind suddenly rose, causing the trees to sway. The spruce trees on the ground fell to the left and right sides with a crash, making a rustling sound that was extremely harsh in the otherwise silent night.

The bodies of Peter and Voldemort began to shake, and the sand and stones whipped at the exposed parts of their bodies like vine whips. The areas where they were brushed were burning and painful, and their eyes could not be opened at all.

Voldemort, who was even lighter, was like a rootless duckweed blown by the strong wind, and his feet flew sideways off the ground.

Peter quickly grabbed the Dark Lord's leg and pulled it down as hard as he could. Voldemort's already fragile body felt as if it was about to break.

There was another sound of breaking through the air, and the Airwing's slender tail flew towards Peter, sweeping across his chest, scratching his robe, leaving several deep blood marks.

Peter screamed in pain and had to let go of his hand. Voldemort flew out like a kite and hit a big tree hard.

Voldemort's eyes almost popped out of his sockets. He spurted out a mouthful of scarlet blood. Due to the direction of the wind, the blood splashed on his face like a warm rain.

Voldemort leaned against the big tree, raised his wand, and when the giant bird pounced on Peter again, he aimed it at it and swung it violently.

A black magic spell was shot out, making a deep gash from top to bottom on the air-winged bird's chest, and blood immediately splattered everywhere.

The air-winged bird let out a shrill cry, spread its wings, and flew toward the sky.

Peter, who was hanging in the air, suddenly felt his body sink, and then fell heavily back to the ground. After a while, the wind and sand gradually stopped.

Dragging his injured body, he quickly ran over, picked up Voldemort, whose face was covered in blood, and took him running wildly through the forest.

The whine of the airwing became smaller and smaller until it was completely inaudible, and Peter slowed down slightly.

"Master, we are safe, it is not chasing us."

Voldemort, who was extremely embarrassed, wiped the blood from his cheek. With an expressionless face, he suddenly looked up to the sky and laughed wildly.

"Hey hey hey hey hey!"

Peter looked at the Dark Lord in horror and asked:

"Master, why are you laughing?"

"I laugh at Dumbledore and Scamander." Voldemort said proudly:

"I'm afraid they are still attending the Halloween dinner at the moment, but they don't know the best opportunity to kill the Dark Lord, so they missed it in vain!

Hey hey hey hey!”

"I think so too, Tom!" a clear voice said cheerfully.

Voldemort's hearty laughter stopped suddenly. He turned around in disbelief and saw two figures, an old man and a young man, standing not far away, looking at them.

Luofu smiled and said:

"Tonight is indeed the best opportunity to kill you two!"

A handsome young man who has always been polite and harmless to humans and animals, he smiled brightly and said:

"I'll send you on your way!"





(Thanks to the guy "Just Love Wading Langshui" for the tip.)


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