Voldemort had never thought that such a wonderful substance existed in this world before.

Substances that infringe on one world after another, and no one can stop them.

It's just that as soon as he talks about "hoarfrost", he can't stop falling in love with this kind of thing.

"This is what my dear son bought for me." The voice did not come from the tall and thin man's body, but from the crown on his head.

"Are you ready?"

The tall and thin man nodded in fear, trembling: "Master, I'm ready." ”

"Then, pick up your wand." The voice in the crown commanded.

The man pulled out his wand.

A wand from Grigovich's hand, silver basswood, protected by a red marble grip and a purple gem at the bottom, was a delicate wand, but it had not been maintained for a long time, dusty, dirty, and full of oil finger marks.

"I give you permission to recite a spell." The crown continued to command.

The man's voice was hoarse, waving his wand.

"The bones of the world are thrown as anchors."

A golden light poured out from the tip of the wand, brilliant and blinding, falling into the bottle and merging with the hoarfrost.

The man shuddered.

"The source of the magic is the bait to feed."

A silver light also poured out from the tip of the wand, delicate and delicate, entangled in the golden light, and also intersected with the hoarfrost.

It seems to have a lot of appeal.

Crystallized hoarfrost particles poured in, clustering around the silvery mana.

The man's face turned painful and his voice weakened.

"The figurative man, sign the contract."

Another golden light.

But not with men, but from the crown, falling into the bottle, intertwined with hoarfrost.

As a purely magical phenomenon.

Whether it is the research of the Elves of Ain El, or Voldemort's exploration over this period of time, it has been determined that White Frost has a certain natural consciousness, but no specific consciousness has been derived. This consciousness is like a tree's greed for sunshine and rain, an instinctive rather than an autonomous act.

And they have a huge response to active energy.

It's like they've been chasing the Elves of Ain-El.

Magic is also one of the energies they crave.

Conscious, but not self-conscious – it's like a person who has a brain, but isn't smart enough.

Voldemort was good at controlling people's hearts, and delved into such a spell.

The man suffers even more, and his magic is constantly being extracted.

The hoarfrost in the bottle multiplies, and it is born in a steady stream.

The voice in the crown was pleasant: "What a wonderful ability. ”

The man suddenly stopped struggling.

Voldemort took over his body, and the man did not resist and could not resist.

"Hellflame." He waved his wand and chanted the Fire Spell.

The magic surges.

A cluster of gray flames erupted and fell to the ground, but unlike ordinary fires, there was no high temperature, but the temperature was extracted little by little, and hoarfrost and ice crystals quickly covered the surface.

He waved his wand again.

The flames disappeared immediately.

In this small cave, the temperature immediately rises again.

Voldemort wanted to say something.

On the table, a crystal ball glows.

Voldemort waved his wand and hid the contents of the table, leaving only a vial of hoarfrost on display as a sample.

It also dissolves the magic that is blinded on the crystal ball.

"Just as you predicted." Eritin's face came to light, and he got straight to the point, "Harry has gone back to Ciri's world. ”

"Really?" Voldemort nodded, looking delighted.

"Are you ready?" Eredin asked again, condescendingly, like a king does to his courtiers.

The man was being controlled, his face did not change much, and Voldemort's voice was still calm: "Of course, of course, I proposed this plan early in the morning." ”

"Now it's just a matter of waiting for a chance."

"But, my dear Lord Eritin, Potter is perceptive, and you must be willing to do so."

Eritin's face did not change at all: "Elleris is the biggest fighter, and he will contribute the most to our success. ”

"Don't worry, I won't have a problem."

Illerys, the master warrior of the Elves of Aynael, is also the core commander of the Wild Hunt, and his status is even higher than that of Caranhill.

He is also the main commander of the search for Ciri, and the person who has the most contact with the world of witches.

Aredin paused and looked at the bottle on the table, "How's the hoarfrost research?" ”

"Still haven't made any breakthroughs?"

Voldemort shook his head: "Of course not. ”

"Now I can use magic, manipulate hoarfrost briefly."

He waved his wand.

The cork of the specimen was opened, and the hoarfrost inside flew out, condensing in the air, but restrained and did not spread.

Arettin's eyes lit up.

Voldemort waved his wand again.

The hoarfrost became a bird, a serpent, a dragon, and finally poured back into the bottle, where it was sealed by the cork.

"It's like this." Voldemort whispered, "But this is only very rude, and simply using magic to suppress the hoarfrost is far from officially using it." ”

He has signed an oath with the White Frost and has almost perfectly mastered the power of the White Frost.

Voldemort didn't say anything.

Of course, just the things he showed were enough to satisfy Aredin.

This is the result of the Elves of Aynael, who has not been able to achieve the results of thousands of years of research on hoarfrost.

The magic of this world is wonderful.

The heart is power.

"That's pretty good." Eritin couldn't suppress his excitement a little, and his tone became flamboyant, "Voldemort, you have done a good job, and you will become the most respectable and greatest friend in the history of Ain-El." ”

"You, too, will be the most respectable and greatest friend of the Death Eaters." Voldemort responded to him calmly.

Aridin whispered, "I'll let you know when Harry finds Illerys, my dear friend." ”

Voldemort nodded.

When the light of the crystal ball dimmed, he waved his wand and recast the spell on the crystal ball, even if Eritin could spy on it, everything he saw was an illusion condensed by magic.

"White frost." Voldemort whispered, manipulating the man's body and walking away from the table.

"With this power, I should be able to compete with Dumbledore."

"No"

"Not yet, not enough."

He muttered to himself.

Walking to the entrance of the cave and looking at the outside world, the ice and snow have melted, and it seems that spring has come.

Hogwarts.

Dumbledore frowned, and McGonagall, Snape, Sprout, and the only professor standing of all the professors stood - he looked about as tall as Uma even when he did.

They stared at the cursed little fellow, using their knowledge to analyze the situation on him as best they could.

Yennefer sat on the sidelines, holding a book in his hand, and looked at them coldly.

(End of chapter)