My Classmate at Hogwarts is Voldemort - v2 Chapter 691 picture

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"You know what? Nelson should still be alive."

Pitia stared at Tom's profile with a smile, as if waiting for his ecstatic state of affairs. If, as she said, she was a phantom waiting for Tom when she was dying, then when she made this prophecy. At that time, it must be even more joyful than the imagined Tom.

"Do you still need to say that?"

Tom glanced at her calmly, raised his head, opened his collar, and let the sun that solidified on the golden dome of the Temple of Delphi a thousand years ago fall on his face, "I never thought he was dead."

"It doesn't look like you're too surprised."

Pitia raised her eyebrows, seeming a little surprised at Tom's reaction.

"If a person like him really died, it wouldn't be in such a sloppy appearance and reason. His death should be splendid, vigorous, far-reaching, and great," Tom's calm black eyes Ripples appeared in the black lake next to Hogwarts Castle, "I remember you said you couldn't see through his fate? What? Your prophecy has evolved again?"

"Of course, this is not a prophecy, this is my discovery, my message."

Pitia narrowed her eyes, rummaging through her yellowed memories for the moments that once surprised her.

"In the period after you left, I often went deep into the Blurred Illusion through the loophole under the temple. The final battle between Nelson and Haierbo caused unimaginable damage to the Blurred Illusion. It's really hard to imagine, you go after Have you ever been in a blurry fantasy?"

"I don't, not even me, have the ability to step in there, and it seems to be only open to those it recognizes."

"Is it really like that?" Pitiya stared at Tom's profile, trying to find waves in the straight lines, "You should know that if he still exists, then he must be somewhere in the blurred vision, and should not You can find it on such a purposeless journey as you."

"…"

"Isn't it? Riddle."

"Say what you have to say."

"Okay," Pythia continued, looking away, "as we all know, myths all over the world describe the place one goes to after one's life, some tribes call it the underworld, some call it **** , Some people build the underworld based on their own country, and some religious believers call it the other side. They all represent people's yearning for the afterlife, in order to cover up the fear of death, but for the true nature of the wizard For those who can confirm its existence, it's called a blurry vision."

"It's well known indeed." Tom sneered, which was almost a piece of nonsense.

"Don't worry, Riddle." Pitia smiled. "Don't worry."

"Do you think there is anything else that can make me anxious now?"

"I think so," Tom didn't see Pitia's expression, but thinking about it, it shouldn't be very polite, she turned her face away, turned her back to Tom, and continued, "Almost everyone has heard about the aftermath of death. The legend of the world, likewise, is closely related to another legend that is born from it, and it is worth exploring."

Tom became interested and listened quietly to her next words.

"The black and white judgment is a topic that people of every nation cannot avoid when they talk about the world after death. Hades, the king of Hades and his goddess Persephone, are in charge of the kingdom of death. The souls brought here will be tested and cross the River Styx, and according to their good deeds or bad consequences in life, they will be punished for their sins or to enjoy in paradise after death. The myth is more intuitive. Anubis, the **** of death, will place the heart of the deceased on the balance, and measure the weight with the ostrich feathers representing the **** of truth, so as to judge whether the deceased is qualified to go to the afterlife."

"You know quite a lot."

"I'm not very closed, Riddle, these bizarre myths just reveal to us what the blurry vision really is - black and white, but I prefer to call it rationality rather than the simple value judgment of good and evil. and instinct, or order and chaos.”

Pitia took a deep breath and said, "After Nelson helped me find myself, I remembered the thirteen years of remodeling myself in a blurry fantasy under Haierbo's magic, and countless deceased people. Passing by my side, walking to the next stop, some of them are noble people who have achieved great things, some are despicable people who are heroes, but more are all living beings. We can't describe them with extreme evil or goodness, but They have gone through the same process as others who have passed by—throwing away their past in the blurred illusion, one side of the order is dissolved into white mist, and the instinct driven desire sinks down, disappearing as a shadow in the blurry The bottom of the illusion."

"I don't know who established this order, maybe it's just a collection born according to people's imagination, but in short, for a long time, any person who died will gain equality in the blurred illusion, Wash away the lead, black into black, white into white, naked they'll go to the next stop where I don't even know the end, but Riddle, as the closest person to the final battle, you should know it happened what."

"Of course I know."

Tom said without hesitation that this memory had been played countless times in front of his eyes in his long life. He wanted to find a loophole that could help Nelson break the game, but the one was buried in the old site of Alexandria and was hidden in Egypt. Unofficial's time-turner is still lying there - Haierbo's final counterattack is perfect, and as time goes by, Tom's hope of returning to that moment with the help of the time-turner is getting slimmer.

He clenched his fists, and the knuckles made a "crackling" sound.

"Haierbo used the power of the ritual to summon the blurred illusion to the present world, overlapping with our world. He wanted to use this to assimilate the world and fight back against Gnar. He gathered the black in the blurred illusion into himself, but he couldn't shake the mastery. The other half of Gnar, when he realized that the situation was over, in order to prevent Gnar from returning to continue to deal with him after two thousand years, he simply forcibly handed the half of the black he had to Gnar, so that he could not bring half of it. The power of the blurred vision leaves with the help of the time-turner."

"Your summary is very good, Riddle, can I ask, what will the world of... blurred vision look like in two thousand years?"

"White, a piece of white, only white." Tom recalled, "In the path of the dead, all memories of the past will be stripped away, their colors will be lost, and they will enter the gate of death."

"The gate? The gate of death?" Pitia raised an eyebrow. "Are you referring to a metaphor or an actual gate?"

"Of course it is a gate, an arch made of black square stone pillars, and a transparent, ghostly drapery hangs on the top of the gate, and behind it is the world after death."

"Interesting...but seems reasonable."

"What do you want to say? Pitia."

"Sure enough, for a month when Nelson first came to Delphi, he has been trying to communicate with the blurred vision. I thought it was strange at the time, if he really had this ability, why would he suddenly become so jerky? Now I understand Now, in your era, Blurred Illusion has changed a lot compared to my time, only white is left, right?"

"Didn't I say it? Yes, only white is left."

"Andros analyzed the Horcrux magic created by Haierbo. When there are Horcruxes, the main piece of soul that is his self is almost immortal unless his Horcrux is found and destroyed, but he and Nelson The same, disappeared after the war," Pitia said, frowning, "Nelson disappeared too, so I have reason to believe that they should continue their war somewhere unknown."

"Is this your analysis?" Tom's brows furrowed too. "Is that why you think Gnar is still alive? What's the difference between that and an unfounded guess?"

"Of course not only, I was interrupted just now, I almost forgot what I was going to say," Pitia shook his head with a smile, "After the war, I have been trying to find a way to enter through the crack at the foot of the Temple of Delphi. Blurred vision, explore what's going on inside."

She put her fingers on the temples and pulled it forward slowly, and the uniformly silver steam was pulled out from her forehead and condensed in front of Tom, depicting the last blurred vision she saw.

"In my memory, black is the base of the blurred illusion, and white is the clouds and mists lingering in the air. When the black is pulled away, it will become a castle in the air without a foundation. The situation of the blurred illusion is exactly like this. The ruins brought by any war will be tragic," Pitia said slowly, "The souls of the dead are lost during the period, and they are stuck in the last step, unable to move forward."

"It reminds me of something..."

Tom pointed to the picture condensed by Pitia's memory, and said softly, "The foundation, the foundation of the building."

"That's right, the temple looked exactly the same as it was when it was built. When I broke into the illusion, the huge attraction almost tore me apart," Pitiya said, "The undead in the past will abandon the past on their own during the journey, But the changed illusion is forcibly depriving every life of the memory of the past. The only feeling the restless fog brings to me is hunger and thirst. They will stretch out the pale hands and teeth that reappear from those memories. , eat up the peeling colors of the undead, and then generate a new lost fog. This is like the self-healing instinct of a damaged psychedelic fantasy, and it is also like an architect is racing against time to find building materials to repair a building that is about to collapse. building."

"You mean, this architect is Gnar!"

Tom's face finally showed the expression that Pitia had been expecting from the beginning. He suddenly straightened his waist, turned to Pitia's face, and held her shoulders, but as Pitia said, she was just a phantom. , so Tom's hand only touched the cold stone steps.

"I'm not sure," said Pitia, shaking his head, watching Tom's hand piercing his body, "but it's clear that when I entered the stupor, the Lost Fog was reshaping the missing foundations, and they were no longer the same as they used to be. I can feel the temperature of the past memory, but it becomes dense and compact, as solid and cold as stone. I think after Haierbo gave Nelson the power he stole from the blurred illusion, Nelson had to bear this power. He is both the one from death and the present death itself."

The ripples in Tom's eyes were turbulent, like the waves of the ocean. Although Pitia had been emphasizing that this was just his own feelings and guesses, it was enough to cheer him up. Then he said:

"You just mentioned a door of death, I think this can completely confirm my guess, the land of the dead, why is there a door? Who built this door? Why haven't I seen it? It always Doesn't it just appear out of nowhere, and one day death realizes it needs a symbolic name and becomes a door? Does that make sense, Riddle?"

"Unreasonable, simply too unreasonable!"

Tom's tone changed from calm to agitated, and the indifference brought to him by thousands of years came to nothing at this moment.

"That's right," Pitia nodded vigorously. "The second thing I want to say has to do with Nelson's ideals."

"Huh? Why did you say this suddenly?"

"After the war, most of the wizards returned to their former lives, and Andros got together with a group of people who recognized Nelson, and re-established a wizard's guild in Sicily, which had been cleaned up, and they gave It was named 'Hermes the Triple Great,' and until the last time I heard from the outside world, they were still digesting what Nelson had left behind and making new discoveries again and again."

"I know that school, was it founded by Andros?"

"They don't have too many restrictions, and one of the most important topics is to study the origin of magic," Pitia said. "They have researched that in ancient times, magic seems to be a common thing, because it comes from the heart. Desire, in the age of no order, it is very easy for desire to erupt, which seems to have a great relationship with the change of the blurred fantasy. According to their theory, the blurred fantasy should be black in the ancient times. The establishment of order has become a situation where black and white are equally divided. If your age blurred fantasy is completely white ~www.novelbuddy.com~ then wizards should be very rare, not like now, there are always a few people in a city-state. "

Tom narrowed his eyes, savoring Pitia's words.

"I know what you're thinking, but they're at odds with each other," Pitia nodded, looking into Tom's eyes, "if his guess is true, and black expands, then order will be lost, and our society will be lost. Existence, under the shroud of order, the existence of magic will become more and more rare, but neither of them can completely disappear, so the difference and contradiction between the existence of magic will always exist, I just want to provide you with an idea ."

Tom's eyes widened, Pitia's figure faded even more, and this memory seemed to be about to dissipate.

"I brought the last thing," her voice also became choppy, and the ancient Greek sun and the sun a thousand years later played over Tom's head, "We haven't forgotten him... Really, we found him to stay. All the creatures under the sky have left their own magic power in their own way, and their lives are frozen in the picture Nelson left me..."

"I know you won't forget him."

"We have not forgotten him, our times will not forget him..."

Pitia's voice repeated and paused. The magic she stayed here waiting for Tom's visit finally dissipated completely. Under the sun, the forest around the ruins of the Temple of Delphi heard graceful dance steps.

Between the fallen stone pillars, a set of the little wizard's favorite chocolate frog pictures reflected the sunlight, and the shaking made Tom unable to open his eyes.

"You helped our time, and we want to help yours..."

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