Chapter 88: The Completion of the Soul Palace and the Unlucky Voldemort

Because of Chu Yang, the two major factions in the Demon Slayer world fell into an eerie balance in a short time; many demons vanished without a trace, and the number of missions undertaken by the Demon Slayer Corps members dropped sharply.

But this moment of peace was an illusion; both sides felt the oppressive sense of a storm brewing.

…

The Naruto world.

Under Hashirama Tobirama’s mediation, Chu Yang and Madara Uchiha, who had previously disagreed over security concerns, finally reached an agreement: the number of Anbu participating in the operation would be reduced according to Madara Uchiha’s wishes, but only if it remained sufficient to ensure Chu Yang’s safety.

The final decision was for Uchiha Yōto to lead a team of three members skilled in Earth Release to protect Chu Yang’s person.

The other Anbu members would focus primarily on intelligence gathering.

In truth, the Hyūga clan was far better suited than the Uchiha clan’s concentrated Anbu force for reconnaissance work.

But out of a desire to balance the Uchiha clan’s power, Tobirama was unwilling to rashly deploy the Hyūga clan; too many casualties might put them at a disadvantage in their rivalry with the Uchiha.

The current arrangement—using legitimate reasons to drain the Uchiha clan’s active strength—was still the most suitable.

Based on days of intelligence gathered by the Anbu, Chu Yang quickly pinpointed the Nine-Tails’ location—coincidentally, the Nine-Tails was wandering near the border of the Land of Fire.

Soon after, Tobirama issued the order to capture the Nine-Tails.

On the way to capture the Nine-Tails, Chu Yang kept pondering why the Nine-Tails had appeared near the Land of Fire’s border.

Until now, all Tailed Beasts’ movements had been far from the Land of Fire; each possessed intelligence no less than a human’s, and they could sense why their companions had disappeared.

Logically, the Nine-Tails should never have appeared so close to Konoha; there must have been some special reason forcing it here.

Ninja travel swiftly; departing from Konoha, they reached the target location in just one day and night.

Now, Chu Yang would rely on his Observation Haki to conduct a comprehensive search and locate the Nine-Tails.

Throughout the process, Madara Uchiha silently observed Chu Yang’s actions; after half a day, he noticed Chu Yang did not favor complex tracking techniques, but simply relied on his innate, powerful perception to detect the Nine-Tails’ trail.

Was this bad? No.

This was excellent.

To Madara Uchiha, techniques could be refined through time and experience, but talent was something beyond postnatal intervention—Itachi were born as Itachi were, and Itachi remained so for life.

Madara Uchiha had always been a believer in innate talent; he never thought mere effort could surpass a genius—only a more diligent genius could surpass a genius, especially in the unique profession of ninja.

“Pity, this kid isn’t an Uchiha. If he married into the Uchiha clan, how high would his child’s talent be?”

A thought suddenly surfaced in Madara Uchiha’s mind—and once it did, it refused to fade.

“When Quannai returns, I’ll discuss it with him—figure out how to lure that kid from the Senju clan over. A marriage between the Uchiha and Senju clans could further solidify harmony within the village.”

Madara Uchiha’s lips curled slightly, his eyes gleaming; he considered this a brilliant idea.

“Lord Madara, the Nine-Tails is just ahead. Lord Yō says Itachi may begin.” Yōto appeared beside Madara Uchiha, whispering.

The crimson tomoe in Madara Uchiha’s eyes slowly rotated.

Beyond a great mountain, he saw the Nine-Tails sleeping peacefully under the moonlight.

It was just past midnight; the surroundings were utterly silent.

Any sound beyond insect chirps and bird calls would stand out sharply.

The Nine-Tails’ power differed vastly from all previous Tailed Beasts—even the Eight-Tails paled in comparison; thus, Madara Uchiha would proceed with greater caution.

A weak barrier would be as useless as paper to the Nine-Tails, offering no containment whatsoever; there was no point deploying one—better to let Madara Uchiha strike directly.

This time, Chu Yang had learned his lesson: he left the battlefield before the battle began, taking three human shields with him to absorb damage.

The battle between Madara Uchiha and the Nine-Tails was ferocious, far more violent than his previous clash with the Eight-Tails; the man and beast fought from sky to earth, their clash defying human comprehension.

This was the domain of gods…

Yōto and the other Anbu members stared, dazed.

Chu Yang thought: had the Senju clan not possessed the aberration Hashirama Senju, the entire clan combined wouldn’t be enough to match Madara Uchiha.

And vice versa.

Madara Uchiha and Hashirama Senju were transcendent warriors beyond their generations.

As Chu Yang marveled, he suddenly sensed a wave of malice approaching.

“Alert!”

Chu Yang shouted first to warn his comrades.

Then he swiftly formed hand seals and erected a defensive barrier before him.

The rising Tree Boundary Wall perfectly blocked the attacker’s assault.

“Hmph!”

A humanoid black entity appeared before Chu Yang, seemingly enraged that he had blocked its attack.

Seeing this bizarre creature, Uchiha Yōto and the other three Anbu members all showed expressions of shock; only Chu Yang looked surprised and confused.

This black entity was the manifestation of Kaguya Otsutsuki’s will—Black Zetsu.

It should have been lurking in the shadows, manipulating everything—why had it suddenly appeared to attack him? “If not for Itachi, Uchiha Izuna would have been dead long ago! All the suffering Uchiha Madara was meant to endure has been ruined by Itachi, Itachi damned creature!”

As Black Zetsu raged, it continued to curse Chu Yang, its hatred visible to the naked eye.

Chu Yang suddenly realized his presence had severely disrupted Black Zetsu’s plans.

Madara Uchiha had not followed the path Black Zetsu had scripted—he had not descended into darkness; instead, Konoha had become more united than ever.

As head of the Anbu, Uchiha Izuna spent his days alongside Hashirama Senju; Black Zetsu had no opening to act.

It could only vent its fury on Chu Yang, blaming him for the deviation that had led to this outcome.

After a brief moment of shock, Yōto immediately led his team in counterattack; regardless of identity, anyone who attacked them was an enemy.

The three Anbu coordinated their ninjutsu, using Earth Release to block Black Zetsu’s escape routes, while Yōto activated his Sharingan and rushed toward Black Zetsu, attempting to control it with genjutsu.

In the instant their eyes met, both bodies froze.

“Captain Yōto has subdued the enemy,” one Anbu member sighed in relief.

But Chu Yang frowned, unconvinced.

As a manifestation of Kaguya Otsutsuki’s will, could Black Zetsu be so easily trapped by genjutsu?

After dragging Black Zetsu into his genjutsu space, Yōto tried to return his consciousness to reality—but suddenly found himself unable to escape.

Directly opposite, the Black Zetsu he had supposedly controlled suddenly moved, stepping toward him; each step caused ripples like water.

Yōto panicked—he had never encountered such a situation before.

“I know the Sharingan inside and out. Using genjutsu against me? Not a wise choice,” Black Zetsu sneered. “Besides, Itachi’re only a three-tomoe Sharingan user—Itachi haven’t even reached Mangekyō level.”

“Tsk, tsk, tsk…”

Black Zetsu’s mockery sent a shiver through Yōto’s heart.

The opponent clearly knew the Sharingan intimately—and knew how to counter it.

As Yōto hesitated, he felt something binding him; he looked down and saw countless tree roots spreading from his legs up his body.

The roots spread rapidly, reaching his waist in an instant; he tried to struggle, but found no strength left.

By the time Black Zetsu reached Yōto’s side, the latter had been fully consumed by a great tree, leaving only his shoulders and intact head exposed, immobile.

Yōto’s eyes revealed extreme terror—he, skilled in genjutsu, knew exactly what was coming next.

Black Zetsu placed one hand on the tree, its inhuman eyes fixed on Yōto as it grinned coldly: “No need to panic yet. Itachi’ll have time to fear later.”

In the real world, roughly ten seconds had passed; Chu Yang sensed something was wrong—if Yōto had truly subdued Black Zetsu, there would be no silence this long.

Chu Yang rushed forward, formed the “Release” hand seal, and dispelled Yōto’s genjutsu—only to find him pale, trembling, staring at him in terror.

“Hehehe… Itachi’re quick. He was supposed to remain trapped in my genjutsu for a full day.” Black Zetsu emitted a chilling laugh, staring into Chu Yang like a abyss.

“Whether or not to kill Uchiha Izuna no longer matters. After observing Itachi this long, I’ve realized both Hashirama Senju and Madara Uchiha place great trust in Itachi.”

“So… if I kill Itachi, Madara Uchiha—who accompanied Itachi on this mission—will inevitably fall out with the Senju brothers.”

“Then everything will return to its proper course.”

Chu Yang regarded him coldly. “Itachi’re quite confident, always talking about killing this one and that one. Have Itachi ever considered that Itachi might be the one who dies?”

As he spoke, the three Anbu quietly approached Black Zetsu, forming hand seals simultaneously, attempting to suppress it with a combined ninjutsu; they had already seen Yōto’s genjutsu shattered completely, and dared not underestimate it now.

“Earth Release: Skyfall Cover!”

A black hole suddenly appeared above Black Zetsu’s head; a green lid carved with strange creatures descended like lightning, enclosing Black Zetsu entirely.

“Success!”

The three exchanged glances and cried out in delight.

Chu Yang shook his head; this jutsu could trap a regular jōnin, but not Black Zetsu.

This creature possessed a special jutsu called “Fuyū no Jutsu,” allowing it to merge with earth and vegetation, moving at high speed through subterranean root networks and underground rivers, leaving no trace of its presence.

“Don’t let your guard down! The enemy isn’t contained—stay focused!” With no time to explain, Chu Yang could only roar to warn his teammates.

The roar jolted the three into alertness; fortunately, his Observation Haki still functioned—through the ground, Chu Yang could still clearly sense Black Zetsu’s movement.

He hurled the mentally shattered Yōto toward the three Anbu, then formed hand seals and activated Wood Release.

Since Black Zetsu was moving underground, the tangled roots beneath their feet could trap it! As Chu Yang activated Wood Release, the ground around them violently trembled, then erupted in bulges—as if a slumbering dragon beneath the earth had turned over.

Observation Haki sensed Black Zetsu had stopped moving, but Chu Yang wasn’t certain if it was truly contained—he intensified his chakra, forcing the roots to coil tighter.

The three Anbu, having retrieved Yōto, withdrew to a safe distance; since Black Zetsu’s location remained unknown, they could not assist.

Suddenly—

Chu Yang sensed Black Zetsu moving again; it had not been trapped by the roots, but was racing along them directly toward Chu Yang’s position.

Chu Yang barely had time to sever his connection to Wood Release when Black Zetsu surged up the roots and appeared before him; face to face, Black Zetsu laughed: “Now Itachi’ll experience the same pain as that boy!”

No sooner had the words left its mouth than Chu Yang’s consciousness plunged into chaos; when he regained awareness…

He stood inside the Soul Palace.

Black Zetsu stood opposite him.

“This is your consciousness’s reflection? Not bad. Itachi carry such a grand palace within your mind—do Itachi aspire to become a king?”

“Hahahahaha.”

Black Zhe threw his head back and laughed, teasing, “Itachi’re young, but your ambitions are huge. Itachi don’t just want to lead the Hidden Leaf Village—Itachi want to become the king of this world?”

Chu Yang ignored him and turned to walk toward his own throne, sitting down slowly.

The instant Chu Yang sat upon the throne, Black Zhe’s heart lurched violently—this intense warning had never happened before.

Chu Yang’s lips curled slightly as he teased, “Itachi’re a product of Kaguya Otsutsuki’s consciousness, a special existence between life and death. Itachi’ve never feared entering others’ mental spaces, because Itachi are consciousness itself.”

“I guess, if Itachi perish within this mental space, it means true death, right?”

Black Zhe felt increasingly suffocated, as if a massive boulder had settled on his chest, growing heavier by the moment, crushing his breath.

He tried to shift the scene, but the majestic palace remained steadfast before him, like a mountain connecting heaven and earth.

It was he who had initiated the genjutsu, yet Chu Yang had become the master—this situation was no different from before, only the protagonist had changed.

Black Zhe looked around, feeling the palace was deeply unnatural, as if infused with an indescribable power. He couldn’t help asking, “Where exactly is this place? Who are Itachi? How do Itachi know about Mother?”

Chu Yang, seated upon the throne like a divine demon surveying mortals, smiled faintly, “What use would answering be? Itachi’re about to die anyway.”

The scent of danger grew stronger. Black Zhe’s face darkened as he tried to sink into the ground and flee the mysterious palace.

But his Fuyoushu seemed to have failed—he stood frozen in place, his face turning as pale as paper, drenched in cold sweat.

“Hah…”

Chu Yang’s laughter echoed through the empty palace.

Black Zhe snapped his head up—shadowy figures emerged around Chu Yang’s throne, watching him.

These figures coalesced in Black Zhe’s vision into a vast, sky-obscuring black curtain, descending upon him.

“Aaaahhhhh!!!!”

Something within the curtain writhed continuously, as if chewing.

Black Zhe’s screams gradually faded.

At the same time, a shattered fragment of Chu Yang’s throne behind him was visibly repairing itself.

At the moment of Black Zhe’s death, Chu Yangs scattered across all worlds were summoned, appearing within the Soul Palace.

“Another new arrival?” Ghost Hunt Chu Yang strolled over casually, glancing around—but saw no trace of a newcomer.

“No new arrival? Then why the hell did the palace drag us here?” Ghost Hunt Chu Yang frowned.

“Something unusual must have happened,” Magic Chu Yang suggested. “Let everyone share their recent memories first.”

The four gathered in a circle. After sharing their memories, they finally understood what had just occurred.

“These broken thrones can actually be repaired…” Magic Chu Yang stepped forward and gently touched the newly restored throne.

Pirate Chu Yang asked curiously, “What’s so special about Black Zhe that the Soul Palace absorbed him?”

Hokage Chu Yang paused, then said, “Could it be related to him being a product of Kaguya Otsutsuki’s consciousness?”

“A palace existing within consciousness… absorbing a product of consciousness?”

All four murmured together, realizing such a possibility was indeed plausible.

Magic Chu Yang said, “Regardless of whether it’s true, we can only verify it when the same situation happens again.”

After the discussion, they began summarizing their gains over this period.

Ghost Hunt Chu Yang gained the most—he had refined the Breath of the Sun to its peak, unlocked the Demon Mark and the Transparent World, and his physical capabilities were steadily pushing past their limits each day.

Magic Chu Yang was learning wand-making, compiling numerous highly practical spells, and, based on their current state, had designed tailored cultivation plans for each of them.

A stable, reliable logistical and scientific support officer! Pirate Chu Yang’s taijutsu and Baqi had also made tremendous progress; under Shanks’ tutelage, he was beginning to touch the realm of Bawangsebaqi .

After leaving the Soul Palace this time, he wouldn’t take long to awaken his Bawangsebaqi .

Compared to the substantial progress of the other three, Hokage Chu Yang seemed methodical and routine—daily cultivation of Wood Release, occasional research into ninjutsu, and teaching, day after day, living like a government clerk.

Aside from Wood Release cultivation, he didn’t need to invest much effort into researching ninjutsu—Magic Chu Yang handled that, and he only needed to take the results to Tobirama Senju for verification.

After sharing their innate abilities, the four’s combined strength had surged dramatically.

Harry Potter world.

Chu Yang pushed open the door of the wand shop—the world outside was a blinding white, snowflakes drifting like willow fluff through the air, settling on the ground to become part of the white expanse.

“Hahahaha, Mr. Chu Yang, Merry Christmas!”

“Good morning, Mr. Ollivander, Merry Christmas!”

Ollivander held two steaming cups of red tea, handing one to Chu Yang and sipping from the other, gazing at the snowy landscape outside with a sigh of lingering admiration.

“Child, after Christmas, Itachi’ll return to Hogwarts. What are your plans afterward?” Ollivander held his tea, turned to Chu Yang, his eyes gleaming—as if he had something he wanted to say.

Chu Yang thought he was reluctant to see him leave, so he quickly said, “I’ll visit Itachi often, Mr. Ollivander. Apparition isn’t difficult for me.”

“Hah, of course I know it’s not difficult for Itachi—Itachi’re a genius,” Ollivander winked at him like an old trickster, then shook his head and chuckled, “That’s not what I meant, Chu Yang!”

“In wand-making, I have nothing left to teach Itachi. Your learning ability is simply too…” Here, Ollivander fell silent with a laugh—praising Chu Yang had become his habit, now utterly ingrained and impossible to change.

“In short, Itachi’ve graduated. From today, Itachi are a certified wandmaker—perhaps… I should say, a master.”

“Itachi may craft wands under your own name. With your current skill, people will flock to Itachi. Combined with your abundant resources, Itachi’ll never again worry about gold Galleons.”

Chu Yang fell silent for a moment, then asked, “Mr. Ollivander, are Itachi trying to tell me I don’t have to return to Hogwarts?”

“What a clever child,” Ollivander sighed. “Hogwarts, under Dumbledore’s watch, is called the safest place in the world. But I believe Itachi understand—Dumbledore isn’t a god. There are things he cannot do.”

“Hogwarts isn’t safe now. The entire magical world has been cast in shadow by recent events. No one knows when the crisis will erupt.”

Ollivander didn’t say it outright, but Chu Yang knew he meant Voldemort.

Unable to obtain unicorn blood to sustain his life, Voldemort must have resorted to other evil methods—hence the dark, treacherous atmosphere gripping the magical world, leaving everyone on edge.

Ollivander hoped Chu Yang would stay far from these dangers—even if it meant delaying or abandoning his studies. With Chu Yang’s talent, he could stand firm in the magical world without a Hogwarts diploma. “At his current state, Voldemort should be close to losing patience and targeting Harry and the Philosopher’s Stone.”

From the signs over the past month, Chu Yang suspected Voldemort would act during this Christmas holiday. Returning after the holiday would let him study in peace for the rest of the term.

Chu Yang wasn’t worried about Harry’s safety—protected by blood protection and the protagonist’s aura, Voldemort had zero chance before Harry turned eighteen.

But as the old saying goes: ideals are full, reality is thin. When Itachi think reality will unfold predictably, fate waits at the corner to strike Itachi with a hidden blow.

That night, joyful songs rang out across Diagon Alley—but the wand shop’s door was pounded violently.

“Hey! Hey! It’s a holiday today, no business! I don’t know who Itachi are, but Itachi’re incredibly rude!”

Ollivander grumbled his way to the front hall.

He intended to open the door and scold the intruder.

But when he opened it, he froze.

Three young wizards stood outside—one of whom he remembered vividly.

The famous “Harry Potter”! Ollivander swallowed his angry words and forced a delighted smile. “Oh! Isn’t this Mr. Potter? Have Itachi come to Diagon Alley for Christmas with your friends?”

“I’m sorry, but I run a wand shop—I don’t offer additional services.”

Hermione quickly said, “Mr. Ollivander, we’re here to find Chu Yang—is he with Itachi?”

Ollivander blinked. “Who told Itachi that?”

Ron shrugged. “Hagrid…”

Harry and Hermione simultaneously jabbed Ron in the ribs, signaling him to shut up.

Chu Yang’s whereabouts after the holiday were a secret known only to Dumbledore and Hagrid.

The trio had accidentally learned of Chu Yang’s location from Hagrid.

His sudden, unannounced holiday had worried them, so they’d used the Christmas break to come see him.

Under normal circumstances, Chu Yang would have been delighted they came…

But arriving now? That was a headache.

Seeing the trio standing before him, Chu Yang couldn’t bring himself to smile.

Ollivander pushed Chu Yang out of the shop, smiling warmly and urging him to celebrate with his friends—completely missing Chu Yang’s weary expression.

The trio left their luggage at the Leaky Cauldron and wandered excitedly through Diagon Alley, surrounded by dazzling Christmas goods that overwhelmed their senses.

“Ron, aren’t Itachi going home for Christmas?”

“I’d like to, but my parents went to Romania to visit my brother Charlie—he studies dragons there.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful. I hope they have a perfect Christmas.”

“Thank Itachi, Chu Yang.”

“Hermione? Aren’t Itachi going home to your parents?”

“I was supposed to, but I changed my mind. Every Christmas since childhood, we’ve always spent it together. This year, I wanted something different.”

Chu Yang took a deep breath, forcing a smile, then turned to Harry, who was scratching his head and grinning at him with a “hehehe.”

Chu Yang silently turned away—he’d have a heart attack if he looked any longer.

The trio ran wild, trying everything fun they saw, buying anything edible on the spot. Wealthy Harry led with Galleons, making passing wizarding families stare in envy.

“Tsk tsk tsk—thank goodness this is Diagon Alley. If this were next door, those three would be stripped down to their underwear.”

Chu Yang took the cotton candy Hermione handed him, ate it while muttering—but soon, he sensed hostile eyes scanning them from the crowd.

He said nothing, quietly releasing Kenbunshoku Haki.

In the shadowed corner of the street, the missing Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, Quirrell, stared at the trio—with hatred focused on Harry.

Through Kenbunshoku, Chu Yang heard Quirrell and Voldemort whispering.

“It’s all your fault for exposing yourself and drawing Dumbledore’s attention. He moved the Philosopher’s Stone out of the chamber—now we can’t find it at all.”

“Forgive me, my lord. Had I not encountered that strange man in the Forbidden Forest, I would have secured the Stone for Itachi.”

“Enough! Shut up! I don’t want to think about that anymore. Now, I only want Itachi to do one thing: capture Harry Potter and trade him to Dumbledore for the Stone!”

“Rest assured, my lord. I will fulfill your wish.”

“Fool!”

With Voldemort’s curse, Quirrell ended the conversation. Chu Yang now understood their intent.

The street grew crowded with people, and Quirrell gradually vanished at the corner; moments later, his figure appeared in Knockturn Alley.

At this moment, the trio seemed to have grown tired of playing; Chu Yang took them to a restaurant they often visited, and after they were seated, he made an excuse to slip away.

After much deliberation, Chu Yang decided he must eliminate Quirrell and Voldemort while both were weak; otherwise, Hermione, Ron, or even Mr. Ollivander might be caught in the crossfire.

Cloaked in a long black robe, Chu Yang followed the hidden path to Knockturn Alley.

Knockturn Alley, already very dark, appeared even more sinister and bizarre under the holiday lights.

Various strange figures crouched in the narrow alleyways, laughing maliciously at the newly arrived Quirrell.

But they clearly did not know that Quirrell’s humility existed only before Voldemort.

No one saw Quirrell’s lips moving slightly.

A flash of magical energy shot from Quirrell’s wide sleeve, striking like thunder toward the dark wizards who had taunted him.

The curse struck one unlucky victim, then spread into a strange glowing ring that blasted the others away; some onlookers nearby finally saw the wand beneath Quirrell’s robe.

Instantly, they scattered like birds startled by a gunshot.

In a single round, Quirrell showed these malice-filled fools just how dangerous he was.

The empty alley fell silent, unnervingly so.

Quirrell sheathed his wand and continued walking, head down.

But after only a few steps, he suddenly saw a figure standing at the end of the alley—cloaked entirely in black, his face obscured, his stature short, yet evoking a strange sense of familiarity.

“Who are Itachi?”

Quirrell frowned, demanding the answer in a near-sharp tone, his hand once again reaching for the wand hidden beneath his robe.

But the other’s reaction was far faster; in the instant Quirrell moved, a flash of magical light ignited from the darkness.

The spell crossed the narrow alley and struck Quirrell’s wand—hidden beneath his robe—knocking it from his grasp.

“Expelliarmus…” Quirrell’s face darkened; he had never seen such swift, precise magic—how could someone hit his wand through his sleeve from so far away?

Damn it, do Itachi have a telescope built into your casting? “Run!” Voldemort, residing within Quirrell, suddenly shouted: “He’s the one from the Forbidden Forest!”

Quirrell’s expression changed—he finally understood where that familiar feeling came from.

“Itachi’re quick to react,” Chu Yang sneered.

Then he swung his wand and cast the Petrificus Totalus as Quirrell turned.

Magical energy streaked through the air like a meteor, striking Quirrell squarely on the back.

Quirrell froze in place.

Chu Yang slowly walked forward from the other end of the alley.

Just as he neared Quirrell, a thick stream of gray mist burst from the man’s head.

It was Voldemort’s soul-form! Sensing danger, Voldemort instinctively lunged toward Chu Yang, trying to frighten him off—but before he could draw near, a burst of red light erupted from Chu Yang’s body, flames-like breath spewing from his mouth and nose, swirling around him.

It was as if a sun had risen in the pitch-black alley! Voldemort’s fragmented soul was violently scorched by the blazing aura, letting out a piercing scream.

Chu Yang hadn’t expected the Breath of the Sun to inflict such devastating damage on a soul.

If this continued, Voldemort’s remnant soul might be completely incinerated.

Yet Voldemort’s will was extraordinarily resolute; he endured the agony, forcibly breaking through the ring of flame and vanishing into the depths of darkness.

Only Quirrell, petrified and trembling in place, remained—left to freeze to death in Knockturn Alley if Chu Yang abandoned him.

The sound of battle drove most dark wizards lurking nearby to flee; for tonight, none would dare approach this place.

“I’m sorry to meet Itachi here, Professor Quirrell.”

Chu Yang stepped closer, removed his hood, and smiled politely.

Quirrell’s eyes widened in disbelief—he could not speak a word.

“I actually quite like your Defense Against the Dark Arts class,” Chu Yang chuckled, then pointed his wand at the ground beside Quirrell and said: “Deprimo!”

The cratering spell exploded beneath Quirrell’s feet, sending him into a terrified, muffled growl.

Chu Yang showed no trace of pity.

He kicked Quirrell down without hesitation, then swiftly sealed the hole.

Having finished, Chu Yang vanished into the darkness and left Knockturn Alley.

…

“Chu Yang, where have Itachi been? Ron and the others are almost done eating!”

Hermione scolded Chu Yang, who had been gone for a long while; it was clear she had been deeply worried by his silent disappearance.

“Sorry, Hermione. I felt a bit unwell earlier, and since Itachi were about to eat, I didn’t mention it.”

Chu Yang explained with an apologetic expression.

“Oh, I see. Are Itachi feeling better now? Roast chicken probably isn’t good for Itachi—should I order Itachi something lighter?”

Hermione’s anger vanished as quickly as it came; upon hearing Chu Yang was unwell, she immediately asked with concern.

Ron and Harry, who had been devouring their food, also paused and turned to look at Chu Yang, showing their worry.

Chu Yang didn’t want to spoil their mood, so he smiled: “I’m much better now. Don’t worry about me.”

Saying this, he picked up a fork, speared some food from the table, and chewed contentedly.

Only then did they relax and resume fighting over the food; Hermione, no longer caring for propriety, had barely eaten since Chu Yang’s absence and was starving.

While Chu Yang and his friends joyfully celebrated Christmas, Voldemort—now without his temporary vessel—wandered alone through the snowstorm, like a flickering lamp ready to be extinguished.

The Christmas break ended quickly; Chu Yang returned to Hogwarts with Hermione and the others. Before leaving, Mr. Ollivander still tried to persuade Chu Yang to temporarily leave the magical world and lie low.

He did not know that Voldemort, the instigator of all this turmoil, would be unable to stir up trouble for a long time.

Meanwhile, Dumbledore sensed that Voldemort and Quirrell had both left Hogwarts; the school’s tense atmosphere eased considerably.

Chu Yang no longer needed to extend his vacation.

Everything returned to normal.

But for one man, his life had fallen again from heaven into hell.

“I quite like the window seat, Mr. Malfoy. Would Itachi mind moving your belongings slightly?” Chu Yang said calmly, smiling at Draco. “And isn’t it a bit too cramped sharing a room with two people?”

Draco nodded frantically, fully agreeing with Chu Yang’s view, then without hesitation began packing his things.

Moments later, he was back in the familiar dormitory, sleeping “happily” between Goyle and Crabbe.

Compared to Draco’s constant anxiety and fear, Chu Yang’s return delighted the students; the first-year circle became lively and vibrant.

After all, who doesn’t like a classmate who tutors Itachi and lends Itachi homework to copy? The professors were pleased too—even the usually sarcastic and cold Snape said nothing mocking about Chu Yang.

The day after Chu Yang returned to school, Dumbledore summoned him to the headmaster’s office for a long talk; most of the time, Dumbledore inquired about Chu Yang’s experiences during his break.

So Chu Yang, in the headmaster’s office, used the tools Mr. Ollivander had given him to craft a beautiful wand on the spot, leaving Dumbledore marveling.

As the conversation drew to a close, Dumbledore suddenly asked a question that caught Chu Yang off guard.

“Did Itachi see Professor Quirrell in Diagon Alley?” Dumbledore instinctively tried to probe Chu Yang’s memories, then abruptly remembered the palace deep within Chu Yang’s mind and abandoned the idea.

“Headmaster Dumbledore, since Halloween, I haven’t seen Professor Quirrell at all,” Chu Yang replied with a polite, sincere smile.

Dumbledore chuckled wryly: “Perhaps I’ve been too sensitive lately. How could Itachi possibly have seen Quirrell? My apologies, Chu Yang. Old age and lack of sleep make me act this way—don’t mind me.”

“How could I? Headmaster Dumbledore! I know Itachi’re concerned for me,” Chu Yang said solemnly.

“Hmm…” Dumbledore nodded, chatted with Chu Yang a little longer, then dismissed him to rest.

Even after Chu Yang closed the headmaster’s office door, Dumbledore kept watching him; even without using Haki, Chu Yang felt Dumbledore’s gaze.

The wise old man seemed to suspect something…

But Chu Yang wasn’t worried that Dumbledore’s attitude would change if he discovered the truth—he had already proven he would never become a second Voldemort.

After that, Chu Yang was granted special permission by Dumbledore.

He could take the O.W.L. exams as a first-year student.

This was normally reserved for fifth-year students.

And if he succeeded, Chu Yang could proceed to the N.E.W.T. exams afterward.

Chu Yang, back to his normal school life, immersed himself in the library as before.

Spring passed, autumn came; winter chilled, summer burned.

…

Demon Slayer world.

Since the Demon Slayer Corps and Kibutsuji Muzan’s faction both fell into silence, the world entered a brief period of peace.

But both sides knew this balance would be shattered.

The day the balance broke would be the day one side was utterly annihilated.

Many swordsmen gathered at the Demon Slayer Corps headquarters for concentrated training; Ubuyashiki Kagaya hoped they would survive the coming final battle.

All Pillar swordsmen of the Demon Slayer Corps had mastered the Demon Slayer Mark.

With Chu Yang replenishing their life force, the Mark’s side effects were nearly negligible.

The Transparent World beyond the Mark required them to elevate their Breathing Techniques to their utmost limit and endure the agony it inflicted with unyielding will.

This was a stage Chu Yang could not interfere with.

Among the many swordsmen, only Muichiro Tokito had not only mastered the Mark but also become the sole one to awaken the Transparent World.

Next was Shinobu Kocho—he was very close, yet still lacked a final step.

So far, he alone showed signs of awakening the Transparent World; the others were far behind, likely never achieving it.

Sensing this, Chu Yang and Ubuyashiki Kagaya spoke at length and decided to halt training in a few days.

But before the order could be delivered,

Kibutsuji Muzan arrived with his army of demons.

Guiwushiwucanbiandaizhutadeeguidajunlaixi 。

For these days, Kibutsuji Muzan frenetically created subordinates while having Muzan’s daughter lock onto the Demon Slayer Corps’ headquarters location.

Ubuyashiki Kagaya and those Pillars—he didn’t even regard them as worthy; his sole target was none other than Chu Yang!

As demons flooded the sky and launched a midnight assault on the Demon Slayer Corps’ main encampment, just as Chu Yang was about to draw his blade and join others in slaying the demons, he found himself alone in a strange city.

Here, time and space seemed utterly disordered.

Clapping echoed from deep within the town—Kibutsuji Muzan, dressed in a suit, walked forward slowly.

“Welcome to the Infinite Castle.”

Beside Kibutsuji Muzan stood several figures Chu Yang had never seen before—neither Kokushibo of the Upper Moon, nor any other Upper Moon demon.

“This is the gift I prepared for Itachi.”

Kibutsuji Muzan smiled and snapped his fingers; the shadows immediately surrounded Chu Yang.

Chu Yang’s lips curled slightly upward.

Killing intent surged! (End of Chapter)