It was an overgrown cemetery - if the Riddle family died and only one descendant of the Dark Lord was left, naturally no one would take care of the cemetery - through the tall yew trees planted beside the cemetery, you could see to an old chapel, and on the other side of the cemetery is a small hill. There is an exquisite old house on the hillside, which is the Riddle House where they lived before.

Tom walked through the tombstones, carefully reading the year recorded on them, and soon he found the youngest one, which read: "Tom Riddle."

He placed his hand on the marble tombstone, the mist lingering around him in a silent warning.

"Are there traces of Nagini's magic?" Tom identified, "Mixed? What is mixed?"

His mist couldn't answer him specifically.

"There is no Dark Lord? There is no Anima, and there is no diary..." He asked one by one, but his mist conveyed some confusing and mixed information.

"Okay..." Tom gave up, "At least we can confirm that the Dark Lord sent Nagini to mark him, right?"

The mist swirled.

He tried several different tombstones and confirmed that only this one was special.

"The bones of his biological father..." Tom thought, considering the current situation of the Dark Lord, it is not difficult to deduce, "He wants to reshape his body? But this makes no sense... His father is a Muggle, consider When it comes to magic affinity, he should give priority to his mother’s bones, right?”

"Unless he can't find it?" Tom opened his palms toward his mist, and the milky white memories drawn by them were quickly transported to his hands.

"Just on the opposite side..." His fingers were rummaging through the milky white memory airflow, "A hidden path..." He suddenly turned his head and looked towards the opposite side. With the naked eye, he could only see the steep hillside, but it was dangerous. The premonition already made his senses tingle. The magic power around him rose into the air, "looking" along with his diverted attention. The lower half of the silk thread was stretched long, and the upper half was as wide as a fluttering kite, revealing a look of salivation and hesitation. , like a group of cobras stretching their necks to look at their prey but not daring to bite.

"..." Tom looked up at his mist "forest" and felt a little speechless.

Several strands of mist hovering in the air bent down and rubbed his face coquettishly, as if tentatively asking him: "Do you want to rush?"

"Is this the one you wanted to eat last time?" Tom remembered that his mist also looked like this once, but that time he didn't dare to rush forward happily considering that there were such reckless people. " "It's time to eat", so I took them away by force. Unexpectedly, after going round and round, they still got their wish.

"Okay, okay..." He could only sigh, "Then let's be careful this time. Don't just start eating when I'm silent." He babbled to his mutant magic power, "What if we alert that guy?" , we will be eaten instead."

Then the mist dispersed loudly, spreading into a thin and almost colorless appearance, and gradually spread towards the hillside on the other side.

The destination Tom wanted to go to did not require climbing a mountain. Just like what he found in those memories, there was a hidden path under the hillside. After going through a gap in the fence, he came to a narrow dirt road with two sides. The hedgerows are taller and thicker than anywhere else. The dirt road was winding, potholed, full of rocks, and quite steep. Walking on it made Tom miss the time when his magic tentacles carried him as smoothly as he could in the Forbidden Forest.

The mist received his thoughts, and several streams of air penetrated the soles of his feet - "No, no, no! Don't!" Tom immediately stopped them in a panic and loudly, "I don't want to sit on the conveyor belt! Really!" he emphasized. He said, "If you fall here, you will roll down!"

His magic clung to him in confusion and dismay.

"Be good," Tom had to coax them, "will we try again after a while when we are more skilled?"

The mist jumped happily.

Tom didn't dare to think about anything anymore. He focused his attention and looked forward. At the end of the path was a small dark forest. It was very dark and strange. The mist he was exploring in front of him was swirling in it like headless flies. Except for some inexplicable The dangerous aura, nothing could be sensed.

Tom stopped in front of the bushes. Even at such a close distance, he could still see nothing. There was only quiet darkness in the woods.

He was quiet and took a few steps to the side, but the strange thing was that, unless he retreated, no matter which direction he walked, he could only face this dark forest, and the tall hedges on both sides of the dirt road seemed to be out of reach.

So Tom could only stop.

It was impossible to go back. He took the risk and came here just to search for clues about the Dark Lord's plan. Wouldn't it be better to continue to close your eyes and wait for the fish on the chopping board when you go back? The greater the danger, the more likely there are clues.

Tom spread his hands, and the mist rushed in from all directions and wrapped around him. Then he unbuttoned a few buttons of his collar so that the phoenix tattoo could be exposed.

That was all he could do to prepare. Tom took a deep breath and walked into the dark woods.

The ancient trees above cast a cool, dark and dense shadow, but suddenly I could barely see clearly in the forest. Half-hidden and half-revealed among the tangled trees was a small house with a strange shape, with walls covered with moss and a roof. There are almost no tiles left on the house. The dense nettles around the house are higher than the windows. The windows are also very small and covered with thick accumulation of old dirt. A dried dead snake is nailed to the weird twisted wooden door. The whole cabin looks like a haunted house from a horror story.

As Tom stood looking at the cabin, he could feel the temperature around him getting colder and colder. It was just chilly at first, but now it has become chilly, and the vague and indistinguishable cries of men and women are lingering in my ears.

The fog suddenly fluctuated violently. Tom turned his face in alarm, but he only saw a twisted white shadow drilling into the ancient tree.

"What is it..." He narrowed his eyes, and the dancing golden-red light spots in the mist amplified the light, so the crying in his ears became louder and louder, making people's brains dizzy.

The thick mist snaked around him, filtering out the piercing and soul-shaking cries, making Tom feel much more comfortable.

He tentatively took a step forward, and silently, through the magic power around him, he eerily felt that there were rigid and twisted white faces of large and small sizes appearing on every ancient tree around him, glaring at them. A pair of dead fish-like eyes stared at him viciously and dullly.

Even with the filtration of the magic mist, Tom could still smell a pungent stench that was getting stronger and stronger, similar to the smell of a rotting corpse. Those crazy, resentful, and unwilling cries were getting louder and louder, and the cold breath came from a tree. Emitted from an ancient tree, there were also rustling whispers in an unknown language...

They are saying...

"Welcome to the Gaunt family cemetery!"

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