Chapter 399: Puppets and Dimensions

Chapter 399: Puppets and Dimensions

Four puppets stood in perfect formation, their bodies swaying slightly, occasionally opening their mouths to emit low roars.

They had grayish-yellow or dark brown hair and beards, sharp teeth, and appeared human-like, but with a hint of feral features.

Abigail, with gleaming eyes, reached out to touch the yellow-haired puppet on the left, but it suddenly snapped its jaws, attempting to bite her.

"Crack!"

Fortunately, Abigail was quick to retract her hand, narrowly avoiding a bite.

"Don't worry, there's no lycanthropy toxin on their teeth," Voldemort assured her.

"And they won't actually bite off a person's hand; at most, they'll leave a few pinprick-like wounds," he added.

"But won't that reduce their intimidation factor?" Abigail asked, teasing the puppets. "Initially, students might be startled, but once they realize these werewolf puppets won't cause much harm, they might become unruly!"

"Not at all," Voldemort affirmed. "I've infused the juice of Narrowleaf Urtica into their teeth."

"Narrowleaf Urtica?" Abigail was taken aback, then burst into laughter. "Voldemort, you're quite the mischief-maker!"

Voldemort shrugged. "I can't have my classmates bitten to the point of losing limbs, can I? It'll just be a painful experience, and the consequences are already milder compared to encountering a real werewolf."

The juice of Narrowleaf Urtica contains various irritants, causing intense pain even with mere skin contact.

Voldemort had infused a specially prepared juice into the werewolf puppets' teeth, making the pain more intense but also easier to alleviate; a simple application of Dictamnus Root Ointment would suffice.

Additionally, he had a clever design in mind; each werewolf puppet had several small vials hanging from their waists, containing the very same Dictamnus Root Ointment, adhering to the principle of having an antidote within seven steps of any poison.

Abigail, full of enthusiasm, circled around, examining each werewolf puppet. "Can they transform?"

"Of course," Voldemort replied, clapping his hands. The werewolf puppets suddenly assumed a posture of gazing at the moon, their bodies trembling slightly, heads elongating, noses protruding, grayish-black fur sprouting, teeth becoming sharper, and their backs arching forward...

Amidst this chilling scene, Voldemort explained, "The transformation lasts for about ten seconds, providing an opportunity for escape or organizing a counterattack."

Abigail, her wand half-drawn, watched the transforming "werewolves" with a hint of tension, nodding in agreement. "Oh—very good—definitely necessary."

Accompanied by several long howls, the werewolf puppets completed their transformations. They were massive, with legs longer and thinner than ordinary wolves, standing only a head shorter than Voldemort. Transparent drool dripped from their sharp teeth.

The fur on the werewolves was not as dense and smooth as that of regular wolves, appearing much sparser. This made the monsters seem eerily human-like, adding to their terror.

Abigail looked deeply into Voldemort's eyes.

In books about magical creatures, werewolf depictions were mostly black-and-white hand-drawn illustrations, allowing for clear identification of their features, but they were far from realistic.

Abigail, of course, knew what werewolves looked like. She had witnessed werewolf transformations on numerous occasions and even personally cast spells to save near-transformation failures.

Additionally, Voldemort's ability to create such lifelike werewolf puppets indicated that he had likely spent time with real werewolves—those who transformed during the full moon—allowing him to understand the intricate details of their transformations.

—Was it that Remus Lupin?

It was rumored that Voldemort and Harry Potter had both stayed with him during their vacations.

Recalling their previous planning, Abigail averted her gaze uncomfortably, feeling a mix of emotions.

The werewolf puppets demonstrated various actions in the room, including pouncing, biting, ambushing, and chasing, even employing clear teamwork during sieges, showcasing their intelligence and agility.

After the performance, they reverted to their original forms.

Abigail couldn't help but praise them.

Voldemort then presented four vampire puppets, appearing indistinguishable from ordinary humans and even capable of acting.

One particularly handsome vampire puppet, resembling Cedric, spoke sweetly as he opened his mouth—

"My love for you is eternal."

The vampire puppet held Abigail's hand, gazing at her with deep affection.

After meeting you, I never wanted to leave. You're so charming, you've turned me into a fool."

It murmured softly as it drew closer, as if about to give its partner a kiss, but suddenly it opened its mouth wide, revealing two slender fangs.

Professor Abigail, who had been watching its performance expressionlessly, suddenly punched it, followed by a shoulder throw, sending the vampire puppet flying.

"Well, even without fighting, this guy could charm a bunch of silly girls." Professor Abigail clapped her hands and said, "Are the others also in this style?"

Voldemort smirked, "Why don't you try it yourself, Professor?"

But Professor Abigail didn't let him see it, saying, "Well, I'll check them one by one later—can these transform into bats?"

Voldemort regretfully said, "Unfortunately, they can't. Due to material limitations, if they were to transform, they could only become bats the size of small cars. So, I abandoned the transformation and only added a feature to release smaller bats."

Professor Abigail looked, and the vampire puppet that had been thrown to the ground had already climbed up. It gracefully bowed and returned to the group of puppets.

Several vampire puppets clapped their hands, and bats flew out with a whoosh, heading straight for her face. In the moment when Abigail's gaze was attracted, four puppets suddenly disappeared from their original positions.

Professor Abigail was stunned and looked around, finding that these guys were taking advantage of the situation, some hiding under the table with their knees to their chests, some behind the curtains, some jumping onto the cabinet like cats, and one hanging in the corner of the ceiling like a giant spider.

Professor Abigail: "..."

"Well..." She stifled a laugh and said, "They're still quite useful in the wild."

"There are also four trolls as a bonus."

Voldemort took out a box containing four small green trolls, who were angrily beating each other up.

"Because these guys stink so much, I didn't let them out. The shrinking charm will wear off tomorrow morning. If you don't have a place to put them temporarily, remember to recast the spell in time—these guys are actually three to four meters tall."

"Okay."

Professor Abigail accepted this unexpected surprise and saw one of the trolls sitting on another's buttocks, then hitting its head with a wooden stick.

Another troll was pounding on the box, glaring at Abigail angrily as if it wanted to come out immediately.

She put down the box and took out a plump purse, handing it to Voldemort.

"This is the fee for making the puppets. If it's not enough, I'll add some more," Professor Abigail said sincerely.

Voldemort took it, almost dropping it due to its heavy weight.

He didn't refuse and stuffed it into his backpack, "It's enough. If there are any issues with the puppets later, you can find me, Professor."

Professor Abigail naturally agreed.

...

After Voldemort left, Professor Abigail set an alarm for herself to prevent forgetting to cast the shrinking charm on the trolls in time. Then she discovered that the vampire puppets were still hiding.

She clapped her hands and said, "Come back."

The puppets bounced back.

Professor Abigail examined them.

These puppets had very distinct features—

The playboy didn't need further explanation, and another looked like a white-haired girl, with a delicate and pitiful appearance. Even without speaking, her watery eyes could captivate anyone at first sight.

The other two had more ordinary appearances. The one on the left wore a highly amiable smile, while the one on the right resembled a mushroom, always trying to hide in dark corners, with a weak presence.

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Professor Abigail was amazed in her heart.

She couldn't understand how Voldemort had crafted these puppets as if they had real souls, so vivid and with such distinct personalities.)



In comparison, the organization's imitated puppets were like idiots, some stumbling after taking a few steps, and some even pointing their cannons at their own base.

The puppets made by Aslan Magic Workshop looked very much like real creatures, but after buying a few for comparison, one would discover that their behavior was relatively rigid, and they couldn't execute overly complex commands beyond their level of understanding.

They were just advanced wizard chess pieces.

So, those puppets were pets but couldn't be "soldiers"—the size limitation was only a small part of the reason, and more importantly, they lacked something.

Something... that made them more "intelligent."

Only the puppets personally crafted by Voldemort were truly unique. They could serve as family, friends, mentors, and butlers while also being excellent soldiers.

In the Aslan Magic Workshop, it was rumored that a small portion of the puppets sold were personally crafted by the inventor himself.

However, the damn workshop never disclosed which ones they were, instead hiding them among countless ordinary puppets as Easter eggs, waiting for the moment when a lucky buyer would take them away.

At this moment, Abigail truly understood the leader's command—compared to Vold, the puppet's technology was completely irrelevant.

This boy... this person's brain and his alchemical skills were the real treasures beyond price.

Abigail was skeptical, even if she returned all these mature puppets to the organization, she doubted the alchemists would have the ability to replicate them.

She couldn't understand why the gap between people could be so vast.

In reality, Abigail was unaware that Vold's process of creating puppets—or any alchemical items, was like following an instruction manual to assemble building blocks. If he made a mistake, he would immediately receive a prompt.

Initially, his alchemical skills were limited due to a lack of proficiency, and also because Vold couldn't fully comprehend the magical pathways and runes he saw with his eyes, making it impossible to replicate them exactly.

But after three years, Vold's foundation in alchemy had become incredibly solid. Nowadays, he rarely encountered runes he couldn't understand, and his alchemical skills had skyrocketed to a level unimaginable for ordinary alchemists.

After leaving the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor's office, Vold returned to the Omnifacient House and then expanded the wardrobe dimension.

Upon entering, a golden-red phoenix immediately flew over, approaching Vold and chirping in a cooing, whining voice.

"I know you don't want them to leave, but they were pre-ordered by someone else," Vold said, stroking its head in the air, the gentle breeze causing Mihal to squint slightly.

It cooed again, its eyes showing a look of grievance.

Vold understood and said, "Are you feeling lonely? Don't worry, this place will be bustling again soon."

Mihal accompanied Vold as they circled the wardrobe dimension.

Previously, this place had been lively, filled with various puppets that made one's eyes spin, and even Vold himself couldn't keep track of how many puppets he had thrown in.

But those puppets had participated in the battle on the island, and even the broom and dustpan had eagerly rushed out. In the end, they all turned into lifeless objects under the influence of a strong magnetic field.

Normally, in such a situation, they just needed to be infused with thoughts to bring them back to "life."

However, the Silent One had wreaked havoc, and the Muggle soldiers had thrown numerous bombs to deal with it. In the chaos, even reinforced concrete buildings couldn't survive, let alone the intricate puppets. After that, Vold was sent back to school by Professor Snape, and when the Ministry of Magic cleaned up the battlefield, Professor Flitwick helped Vold retrieve some puppet remains that still retained their shape.

By this point, the puppets were beyond repair, and they could only be broken down into base materials and used to create new puppets.

At this moment, despite the wardrobe dimension still having buildings and furniture, trees and beaches, and a few magical creatures, it felt empty.

Vold looked around, thinking of the pumpkin carriage that would eagerly rush to greet him every time he arrived, the teapot that sang with steam, the broom that kept every corner spotless, and the maid who always tended the garden, and he couldn't help but feel a bit emotional.

"It'll get better," he assured Mihal, "Before long, you'll have many companions again, and we can also redesign this space."

Vold had always envied Scamander's suitcase dimension, so when he first constructed his wardrobe dimension, he imitated Scamander, incorporating various landscapes, using weather charms to create different climates, and even keeping some magical creatures inside.

But later, Vold released most of the magical creatures, some back into the Forbidden Forest, and replaced them with more and more puppets.

He then built his resting place, his alchemy and potion-brewing area, and his storage area...

Various buildings were added, and Vold moved some unnecessary climate areas to the corners.

Gradually, the wardrobe dimension became a bit of a hodgepodge, with mixed and chaotic functions.

At this moment, as he surveyed the space, Vold's thoughts became much clearer.

He wasn't Scamander, and the space he needed was naturally different from Scamander's, whose mission was to protect magical creatures.

He was going to transform this space into the shape he truly desired.

(End of Chapter)

Chapter end