Chapter 712 - An Evening at Madam Zenarie’s Emporium Ⅳ (1/2)
A surprising look of understanding dawns upon Sanderson upon understanding the unspoken request. ”Avery, you should know better,” Sanderson quietly chided the wizard. ”I cannot openly slay Mulciber. There are unspoken laws and magics in place that forbid such actions and restrict such movements against him. The treatise that exists between the purebloods and the rulers of the shadows will not permit me otherwise.”
”I am acutely aware,” Avery Sr. said with a frightening expression. ”That is why I am not requesting for Mulciber Sr. to die in his son's place for the culprit is already dead. However, Damian Mulciber did not possess the capabilities nor knowledge to go about acquiring a Babylon Candle. No, Damian Mulciber could have only acquired such an item from one individual alone, his father, Mulciber Sr.”
”Vengeance, is it?” Sanderson curtly said. ”Is that your true desire, Avery?”
”I will settle for nothing less,” Avery Sr. mercilessly answered. ”What I desire above all is a living death for Mulciber, unable to speak nor move trapped in his own body. The body that he was once so proud of will become his hellish prison until completely madness overwhelms him leaving behind nothing but an empty, breathing husk.”
Sanderson lets out an impressed low whistle, before flashing a wolfish smile. ”And what will I gain in exchange for going about such absurd lengths, Avery?”
Avery turns to glance at Rosier Sr. who snarls back. ”All that we know regarding the Dark Lord,” Rosier Sr. bitterly barked. For they knew much more than they ought to know.
”And what use is the knowledge of the Dark Lord and his followers?” Sanderson retorted. It was a lie as he was required to do so by Reginald Prince and to avenge the death of his cousin, Adric, who had mysteriously disappeared murdered most foully. As the deceased Rain Man had once said in the past that if he followed the snake, he would find that which he sought.
”And what if we said that the Dark Lord, Lord Voldemort, and Tom Marvolo Riddle were the same individual?” Avery Sr. eloquently said causing Sanderson to physically shake at the response. Such bloodthirst and rage flashed across the face of Sanderson causing the two pureblood wizards to be taken back at the unhidden response.
A knowing confident gleam appears in Avery Sr.'s eyes at the telling reaction of the Potentate of London. He had the Potentate of London right where he wanted. And far more importantly, they had discovered Sanderson's soft underbelly. It was a weakness; they could continue to exploit it in the future.
Sanderson shakes uncontrollably with hatred at the mere mention of THAT name, TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE. It took some time to suppress his emotions far longer than he was comfortable with. He knew that he had revealed far too much in his emotional display-. Taking long shuddering breathes, he regains control of his turbulent, surging emotions.
Raising an icy stark gaze to the two pureblood wizards, in a harsh voice, Sanderson asks, ”I will not tolerate any falsehoods nor fabrications on this matter. Did you speak truthfully, Avery concerning the identity of the wizard known as Tom Marvolo Riddle?”
”Indeed,” Avery Sr. coolly answered with a Cheshire-like grin that did not hold a single hint of friendliness. ”Tom Marvolo Riddle even has the audacity to make an anagram of his MUGGLE name and use it as his current name. It reads as 'I AM LORD VOLDEMORT.”
Avery Sr. let out a low snicker with his lips barely refraining from forming a sneer. ”Envy is such a terrible thing to behold in its full form. Here we witness a half-blood's actions of wishing to be a full and true-bred pureblood. However, Tom Marvolo Riddle cannot outrun his muggle roots. Why even his self-chosen name of Lord Voldemort is formed from his muggle father's name. It is terribly ironic might I add.”
Avery Sr. paused and glanced at Rosier Sr. who knew on Riddle and the VERY sensitive subject. Rosier Sr. 's lips curl into a vicious sneer. ”As Avery said, it is ironic really, considering that the murderer of your son and his followers have been running around London practically unenc.u.mbered. Oh, yes, the Potentate of London has been searching for clues how many years now is it?”