bacchusnovels Chapter 606 How come you look exactly like me?
Chapter 606 How come you look exactly like me?
Chapter 602 How come you look exactly like me?
"As you can see, I am the true Dark Lord."
Under the watchful eyes of the crowd, Voldemort slowly removed his robes, revealing a deathly pale face.
Everyone gasped in shock.
What kind of face is this?
He was emaciated and bloodless, his skin clung tightly to his bones, and he had no bridge of his nose, only two narrow, snake-like nostrils.
Even the most wicked dark wizards cannot look at this face for long.
Too ugly?
It's so bizarre. It's so inhuman.
Voldemort enjoyed being stared at like that.
He mistook this for reverence, submission, and the silent cry from their hearts: "The Dark Lord is back!"
But what happened next was completely unexpected.
No one sang his praises, and no one called out his name.
No one knelt down and cried out "Master," no one trembled as they welcomed the return of "God."
On the contrary, a few people showed hesitant expressions.
"Who is he?" someone muttered under their breath.
On the other side, someone scoffed, "That face was done way too drastically—is this some kind of extreme black magic?"
Even more extreme, some whispered to their companions, "Have you seen him? Where did this madman come from? Did he escape from Azkaban? Only people from there are this crazy."
Voldemort's expression remained unchanged, but his gaze gradually darkened.
What happened?
He looked around at the crowd and found that none of them recognized him.
Some of them even secretly glanced at the "imposter" who had been talking so confidently on the platform.
A surge of anger slowly rose in Voldemort's chest.
He had never imagined this would happen.
However—that's normal.
Since his comeback, he has spent most of his time behind the scenes and rarely appears in the public eye.
How could these dark wizards have ever seen him before?
That is why he forgave these servants.
They even know what he looks like, yet they still choose to follow him as always—what loyalty that is!
It seems that only such a reason could quell Voldemort's anger.
In this brief silence, some people began to stir, wanting to capture this madman who had suddenly appeared and called himself "Voldemort" in order to show their loyalty to Riddle.
But Voldemort was not angered.
He disdained to explain, nor did he want to easily waste these still-usable combat forces.
He simply waved his wand lightly.
An invisible wave of air suddenly spread out from him, distorting and compressing the air.
boom-!
With a radius of ten meters from the center of the wand, a powerful magical barrier instantly formed, blasting away all the dark wizards who tried to approach him, sending them crashing heavily to the ground.
Now, these dark wizards finally behaved themselves.
This madman—he actually has some skill.
No wonder they dared to jump out and provoke us.
Voldemort's attention remained focused on the person still standing on the platform.
Riddle.
At this moment, Riddle showed no panic whatsoever; in fact, he even laughed.
Is it strange that my future self is very strong?
He finally moved.
He slowly walked down from the platform, and under everyone's breathless gaze, he also drew his wand. Unlike the former, his movements were more elegant, as if he were performing a ritual.
Then, he waved it gently.
boom!
Another loud bang.
This time, the area affected by the air explosion doubled—
A magical barrier, a full twenty meters high, swept out, splitting the ground with a visible crack. Stone fragments flew everywhere, and the gale whipped up his black robe and hood, even lifting his mask high into the air.
At the eye of the storm, he slowly raised his head—a familiar face was revealed.
Voldemort's eyes suddenly widened.
He was stunned, horrified.
This... how come it looks exactly like me?!
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