Undead

As the two stiff bodies rolled to the ground, a large cloud of dust was stirred up.

"The dust disperses."

Luke frowned, waving his hand to expel the dust from the air. He then set his eyes on Lockhart, who was still trapped in an illusion.

According to the first requirement of reincarnation in the dirty land, the soul of the summoned must be in the pure land. So, Luke had to kill Lockhart first.

With that in mind, Luke transformed Lockhart's wand into a razor-sharp knife using a Transfiguration Charm and activated his kaleidoscope to break the illusion.

People only die once, and Luke believed Lockhart should experience the process of dying.

"Geralt?"

As the illusion unraveled, Lockhart came to his senses, dazed.

"What are you doing!?"

When he saw Luke holding a sharp blade, he shouted in panic.

Lockhart instinctively reached for his wand in his dress pocket, but it was empty.

"Don't look for it. Your wand is this long knife in my hand," Luke said, raising his eyebrows and speaking in a relaxed tone.

"You--"

Lockhart took a few steps back in horror, only to bump into a wall.

"I didn't want to kill you!" he exclaimed, his voice trembling with fear.

Lockhart's tone trembled, his face devoid of its usual confident smile, replaced by a gloomy expression. He had only intended to erase Luke's memory, but Luke had other plans—he wanted to kill Lockhart.

"Yeah, you didn't want to kill me," Luke said, flicking the blade as he stepped forward slowly. "But sometimes, losing your memory is more cruel than death."

He aimed the blade at Lockhart, who had nowhere to escape, and approached him with eyes wide with fear.

"I can give you all the fame and wealth you want!" Lockhart pleaded. "I can even get you some jobs at the Ministry of Magic! Just spare me, Geralt!"

"I'm sorry, but I have to kill you," Luke replied, a smile curling on his lips.

Lockhart had no way to resist or run. He could feel the weakness in his body, and even the few steps he had managed earlier were his limit.

"No—" Lockhart began, but his words were cut off as the blade, transformed from Luke's wand, pierced his chest.

Pain shot through Lockhart's nerves. "Goodbye," Luke whispered in his ear, his voice like a death knell. "Professor Lockhart, see you soon!"

The sharp blade was withdrawn, and bright red blood sprayed out like a fountain. The blood mixed with the dust on the ground. Lockhart fell to the floor in a trance, stirring up a cloud of dust.

Luke discarded the blood-stained blade. Killing Lockhart with his own wand was both murder and a message.

He couldn't help but think he was a true villain.

After Lockhart lost his breath, Luke turned around and threw Marcel, whose pupils were trembling, into the middle of the floor. After two days of cooling down, this Death Eater who had drunk too much had regained his sanity, only to witness this shocking scene as soon as he opened his eyes.

The man lying on the ground in a gorgeous dress, who he either knew or had heard of, was Gilderoy Lockhart, a well-known writer. Marcel watched in horror as the little wizard in front of him brutally killed Lockhart.

At this moment, Marcel realized that the robes the other figure wore were from Slytherin Academy, which meant the young wizard before him was still a student!

What on earth does he want to do!?

Marcel watched in alarm as Luke plucked a lock of Lockhart's blond hair and began making hand signs, as if performing some dark ritual. The unknown nature of Luke's actions heightened Marcel's fear; people often fear what they don't understand.

"The container is ready," Luke muttered to himself, his eyes half-closed in concentration.

With a final gesture, Luke slapped his hands onto the ground, causing runes to spread out from his fingers, encircling Marcel in a mystical pattern.

"The Art of Reincarnation of Dirty Earth!"

With a light chant, the dust on the ground began to swirl and move toward the petrified Marcel, who could only make desperate, muffled noises.

Within half a minute, Marcel was completely covered in dust.

"Did it fail?" Luke murmured softly to himself, wondering if the lack of a pure land in this world had hindered the spell.

But then, something caught his eye—Marcel's body, which had been immobilized, began to move slightly. As the dust cleared, Luke saw the reddish-haired Marcel transforming. His hair turned into Lockhart's distinctive blond strands, and his face took on the familiar, handsome features of Gilderoy Lockhart.

"Success?" Luke's eyes widened as he observed the figure lying on the ground. The transformation was complete; Marcel's form was entirely replaced by Lockhart's.

Lockhart slowly opened his eyes, which had changed from their usual bright blue to a dull gray, with the whites around them now a deep black. His once flawless face was now marred with irregular, ceramic-like cracks.

Luke stepped forward, picking up a blade that had been stained with dust and blood.

"Professor Lockhart, I said we would meet again!" Luke's voice was cheerful, as if pleased with his work.

Lockhart, still groggy and confused, stared at Luke in disbelief. He glanced behind Luke and saw his own lifeless body lying there.

"Wait—you don't come near me!" Lockhart cried out, scrambling to get away.

But before he could react further, Luke thrust the blade through Lockhart's newly resurrected body. As Lockhart gasped in shock, Luke's voice rang out.

"Congratulations on becoming an undead!"