Countless bricks made of gold are placed in the midst of the ornate underground palace, perhaps the tomb of a king, or the relics of a sorcerer.

At the end of the ruins, dozens of luxurious crystals shimmer intoxicatingly under the illumination of the lights, and the beautiful halo of refraction is intoxicating.

But in the blink of an eye, these exquisite ornaments were as if the bomb hidden in them had been detonated, and suddenly a series of explosions burst open, and the debris did not splash, as if the building had collapsed, and the debris fell down like mud and sand.

In front of this group of treasures stood a man in a black robe.

The facial features on his face were extremely strange, his eyes were extremely scarlet, his nose was almost invisible, only two slits remained, and his skull was extremely prominent, and the direction of his skull bones could almost be clearly seen.

It was none other than the Dark Lord.

Voldemort vented his emotions in a rage.

It seems that someone can always guess his actions, one step ahead of him, or if he can't ask for what he wants to pursue, and now the dungeon he is in is already the relics left by the twelfth ancient wizard he has explored.

Muggle wealth and ordinary magical items had no attraction to him in the slightest.

He wasted nearly half a year for this.

The only school of magic and wizardry with a definite legend related to his ancestors, Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, also returned empty-handed.

The snake wood did not admit him, and when he tried to pull it out by force, it quickly withered.

In addition to this, there are many more, which will not be repeated.

At this moment, in the face of everything in front of him, Voldemort waved his wand at will, and several flames rose in front of him, and the firelight, which was a hundred times brighter than the pearl ornament, rose and burned up the carefully built coffin.

The elaborate moire star map next to the coffin flowed like life, and then it was cut off and burned.

Those in power can't think of the many measures they have taken to rest in peace, and they still can't let themselves sleep peacefully after death.

"Alright. ”

He made a fritful choice, he let the pesky reptiles at Hogwarts live for a little more time, and he was going to settle the score first, and then explore slowly.

There is a limit to the power of one person.

After he has mastered the resources of the entire wizarding world, it may be easier to look for them.

After this thought, his mood seemed to improve a lot.

He made a decision, and it was just a thought that the man disappeared into the tomb, as if he had never been there.

A powerful sense of oppression crept over Malfoy's heart.

At this time, he was lying in a chair, with a desk in front of him, and he unconsciously flipped through the Muggle dictionary, looked at the words on it, and read it mechanically, using this method to relieve the discomfort caused by some reason.

When he saw the term "Batudi Gua spider".

Because of this palpitating feeling, he suddenly closed the dictionary with a "click".

The man finally returned.

It was abrupt and unforeseeable.

Of course, the behavior of the superior does not need to be explained to the lower levels, nor does it need a trace of rehearsal.

In the large reception room, the Dark Lord sat on the elaborate throne, and the whole body reflected a faint cold light.

Looking around the room, the flames in the marble fireplace had been extinguished for a long time, hanging on one side of the wall, and the crystal lights in the central ceiling of the hall were dim, and the only useful thing was the silver candlesticks suspended by chains on several sides, on which the candles emitted a faint glow.

The once bright house became so dim for a while.

However, in terms of cleanliness, it was well maintained, and there was no neglect because of his long-term departure.

Every once in a while, there are house-elves to keep it clean.

The Malfoys now live a rather "luxurious" life.

The old house has Kreacher, and here is Dobby. Crouch's sparkle completely loses her sense of self and is brought back here.

Although her wit has disappeared due to too much self-blame and some mental blows, it is still okay to do some simple mechanical work.

Suddenly, Voldemort frowned, and the noise outside the courtyard made him a little irritated.

Those roars and roars are annoying.

The door was suddenly pushed open by an invisible force, revealing a gap, and at the same time, some natural light was cast, and a faint green light pierced through the open crack between the two werewolves who were biting each other.

"I'm not here, you seem to have forgotten the rules. Voldemort said in a cold tone.

For werewolves, death may be a daily occurrence.

In other words, in their bloodthirsty minds, there is no definition or understanding of the profound philosophical proposition of death, but it still triggers his fear.

For a moment, according to the distance from Voldemort, all the Death Eaters with the Dark Mark engraved on their arms felt varying degrees of burning.

Many Death Eaters had come here on the run.

The long table in front of the Dark Lord was filled with all kinds of wizards in the blink of an eye.

He looked around.

"If I don't come back, probably you'll all be pretty much dead, from ridiculous cannibalism. ”

"Draco, I've seen your information, it's good. He glanced at his side and said approvingly.

"What about Severus? It should be on the way here. ”

The thin sheet of paper floated erect in front of his eyes, Voldemort squinting slightly, and with each passing one, the paper would automatically burn out in a dark blue flame.

Malfoy lowered his head and accepted the Dark Lord's scrutiny, but the afterglow sneaked from beneath the throne.

Nagini is not there.

"Isn't your face very good?" Voldemort keenly noticed.

However, it is just as the capitalist "cares" about the physical condition of the laborer and only wants to know whether they can continue to create value for him.

The same goes for Voldemort.

"It's not a big deal, master," Malfoy bowed slightly, calmly accepting the Dark Lord's "care".

Then, Voldemort gently tapped the table with his slender and pale fingers, and blood oozed from the table in front of all the werewolves.

"Stop thirsting for the blood of your own kind. ”

"There are endless opportunities later. ”

"The only advantage of Muggles is that they are numerous, and inferior creatures always hope to rely on numbers for some inexplicable comfort. ”

A series of words is not implicit, but explicit.

The Dark Lord will soon wage war, spreading from the wizarding world to Muggle society.

Voldemort looked at the groveling group of subordinates, not daring to look directly at him.

"I don't want to see my men laughing at each other anymore. ”

"Vampire, a fugitive wizard from South America...... I hope you can make a difference. Voldemort rubbed his wand in his hand.

At the foot of the steps, the wizard who was hiding in the cloak, and the man in a well-dressed uniform, whose face was paler than the Dark Lord, trembled unconsciously.

"I also hope that, as a slave, I will have the consciousness of a slave. ”

"In addition, as a guest of this manor, you must also have the consciousness of a guest. "I want you to understand.

"At the very least, don't mess with the setup in other people's homes, do you, Draco. ”

Malfoy could only nod slightly, neither showing extreme concern nor showing indifference.

The Dark Lord's move is obviously to play on the topic, just for Liwei.

"In the future, I will bring you fresh and delicious food. Voldemort tapped on the table, and the bloody flesh and blood in the wine glass flashed onto the table.

There was a frantic shriek of cheers from the long table.

The werewolf raised its sharp claws, leaving several blood marks on its chest.

They are very self-healing, and the scars on their chests quickly scab over and then fall, and they remain in a roaring state, venting their desires.