Then Alan rushed towards the Dark Lord, and like an ancient Muggle holding a stick, his hands swung the staff heavily at the Dark Lord with a terrible force with a physical attack. The white-haired wizard's face was full of anger.

Voldemort had no time to speak, so he could only raise the silver shield he had originally used to resist the spell, trying to use it like a Muggle to withstand the physical attack of the boy's staff in front of him - the power of the shadow made the staff project its own shadow, allowing Allen to wield the staff from the air thirty feet away to cause this basic physical damage.

The loud thunder of impact echoed in the empty Muggle Park, and the two consecutive blows came from Allen's heavy blows - the Dark King staggered under the weakness brought by the previous spell and this attack, and fragments on the silver shield fell and cracked and scattered. Small pieces were constantly smashed out of the edge of this originally small shield.

These scattered pieces also splashed through the pure black robe on the Dark King's body, leaving some wounds on him, but they were not fatal, but they could only be considered abrasions. The Dark King wanted to cast spells and scold, but Alan's successive attacks did not give him this opportunity.

After that, Allen had rushed to Voldemort and used the top of his staff to contact the silver shield directly with the third stroke. The tip of the Deep Demon Skull Staff that began to burn with black flames made a sharp laugh. Under the severe pain of the Dark King's left hand, the silver shield he carefully made was instantly restored to some metal powder. In this duel, without resisting a spell, this shield was directly contacted with Allen's staff and was restored to the basic material form before the magic item was successfully made by the magic Duncan unraveling technique contained in it.

"I want to give you a little!" Allen shouted victory. He raised his staff and jumped up. Although he was disorganized, he swung the staff again with amazing speed and agility. Before the Dark King could react to the loss of a silver shield, he had only had time to exclaim. After that, he did not roll to the side as much as he had just paid attention to the impression, barely avoiding the other party's hands and hit him.

And where he had just fallen, a crack was smashed out of the cement floor. The high temperature brought by the black flames made everything nearby charred, and the cement gravel and the silver shield fragments that had shattered in the first two attacks before splashed all over the ground.

"Stop! We are not muggles, we should use magic for duels!" The Dark King roared, rolled and crawled and stood up in a hurry. The dust on the ground made his black robe look very sloppy.

"Then you have to wait until I give it back to you!" Allen smiled with teeth. In fact, he was no longer angry after venting continuously. Under the influence of the energy-absorbing technique just now, Voldemort's weak dodging action now seemed to be somewhat in line with his aging signs of being in his early seventies. Cooperating with Allen who was less than seventeen, the scene at this time was like a bad boy trying to beat and bully an old man with a stick...

But the strong sense of humiliation brought by it surrounded Tom Riddle, reminding him of the bullying he suffered before he discovered his ability in the orphanage.

But Voldemort's angry desire for revenge was interrupted, because Allen raised his huge staff and smashed it to Voldemort again. This time he seemed to have found a combo and swept over him while dodging sideways.

This forced Voldemort to jump up and avoid in a way that was not suitable for his age, but Voldemort, who had already recovered his rhythm, was still in the air and threw it out with the wand on his hand tightly.

"Avada chewed the big melon!!!" Before he could jump to the highest point, a green light approached Allen. Voldemort felt that he had used the fastest life-seeking curse he had released in his life. At this close distance, Allen could no longer have time to use deformation to pull up a high enough earth wall as an obstacle to defense.

But in Voldemort's happy gaze, Alan in front of him was not panicked, and also stopped hitting people with his staff. He just waved to the ground as if he didn't care at all about the deadly spell he was best at cast by the Dark Lord himself.

Amid the shocking and breathing sound of the wizard outside the field, just as the green light was about to hit Allen, Alan's head became blurred and suddenly separated from the middle, splitting into two from his neck, and the life-seeking curse passed through the split space without any obstacle in the middle.

What's even more creepy and weird is that the eyes on both heads were emitting black mist on the edge of Alan, looking at Voldemort at the same time, with some sarcastic smiles.

"Pillock!!!" The heartache that came from the soles of his feet as soon as he landed on the ground made Voldemort ignore the uneasiness and fear that Allen used this strange way to avoid attacks, nor did he care about the live broadcast that was currently being broadcast, and he could not maintain his image and cursed the British natives. Then, because the pain completely unfolded, his pale snake face twisted instantly, wrinkled into a ball of hands, stroking his feet without daring to touch them.

The bald middle-aged witch, who had held her breath in the distance but didn't even dare to show her breath, gave Voldemort a close-up of the expression on her face through the live broadcast monitor. Seeing the mysterious man's ferocious expression at close range, he was so shocked that he took a breath of cold air, feeling that the soles of his feet seemed to be aching faintly - Dumbledore didn't even notice that he subconsciously covered Harry's old hands with his old hands and some tender and immature eyes.

What Voldemort, who had just jumped up, was that almost the moment he cast, Allen quickly cast and completed a transforming technique on the ground under his feet. The cement and silver shield fragments that had previously turned into iron Lego toys suddenly appeared at Voldemort's feet. The circular protrusions that the Lego toys originally had have now become sharp cones with metallic luster.

Voldemort, who had always been accustomed to not wearing shoes, just jumped up barefoot and avoided Allen's sweep. After casting the spell, he focused completely on Allen. Now he fell heavily. His soles of his feet firmly stepped on several sharp and raised iron Legos, and these small pieces of Muggle toys hit his feet directly.

Until now, Voldemort lowered his head and looked at these sharp little things, he realized that these things were something. He couldn't believe that the things given to him were not something more magical, but something like building blocks. In order not to be more embarrassed in the live broadcast, all the wizards saw their embarrassing appearance, Voldemort tried his best to suppress his desire to scream after the first sound of the thick sound. His pale and hairless face returned to some blood because it was red, but the continuous irrepressible pain made him look trembling when he raised his head, the two nostrils that were like slits seemed to tremble and shaking.

"According to Muggle's words, pain can be divided into three levels - pain, unbearable pain, pain when stepping on Lego..." Alan did not continue to pursue, but lifted up his robe, revealing the arcane leather boots on his feet. He raised his foot and shook the bottom of the leather boots with anti-slip patterns as if to show it to the Dark King. "Tom... You know I'm not very interested in the bloodline stuff, but no matter my pure blood family has a decent education about how to maintain a pure blood wizard, or Muggle schools will teach children not to walk outdoors barefoot so as not to have accidents... All such a famous Dark King... You should also be more particular about your outfit, so that you will suffer less damage..."

Voldemort in the pain had no time to deal with Allen's mockery. He hid his anger and other emotions in his heart. With rich fighting experience, he knelt on the ground with his knees instead of supporting the soles of his feet and then moved the phantom to move a little distance. Taking advantage of the time when Allen did not pursue, he squatted on the ground and quickly waved his wand. With his movements, a rumbling sound came from the ground, the ground kept trembling, and the door of the other world composed of white bones began to appear out of thin air.

Just as Voldemort cast the summoning spell and asked himself to teleport and try to widen the distance, Allen's hand without wand also waved. The wizards who watched the duel from afar exclaimed at the same time when Voldemort showed his body. The bald witch who had been monitoring the screen quickly moved his hands away from the instrument to avoid causing the camera to tremble.

But Voldemort, who had just reappeared, didn't feel anything unusual. He grabbed the time and raised his legs stiffly, pointed his wand at the soles of his feet, which were stained with dust and grass leaves. The tip of the wand trembled slightly, and the Legos bounced away from his feet quickly, leaving several bloody and sank marks. Blood suddenly emerged from the sanks. The pain of the soles of his feet seemed to be written into the memory of his skin. The Dark King did not intend to end the duel like this. He knew that such a wound that was not magical could be used to heal himself immediately with magic.
Chapter completed!