Marvel: Supreme Wizard

Bastard!

Noah cursed in his heart. What a bastard!

Voldemort's words were nothing short of a death trap for him.

Whether he had done it intentionally or not, those words left Noah in an impossible position.

Join him?

Him, of all people?

And he said this in front of his friends and Professor McGonagall?

Did he think he was Orochimaru or something?

Noah almost laughed out of sheer anger, but he quickly calmed himself.

It didn't matter whether this guy was serious, playing mind games, or just messing with him—Noah had already decided.

This so-called Dark Lord needed a lesson in humility.

A wandering soul—no matter how powerful it had been in life—was still just that. A dead man.

And Noah knew exactly how to deal with the dead.

He could have used Expecto Patronum, a classic choice in Defence Against the Dark Arts, but that was unnecessary. If this were a complete soul of Voldemort, then maybe he'd consider it.

But this?

This was just a soul fragment—weak, pathetic, and incomplete.

Noah had a better way to deal with him.

With that realization, Noah's previously stiff expression relaxed into a slow smirk.

"Oh? And what exactly do I get?"

"Anything. Anything you can imagine!" Voldemort's voice remained as chilling as ever, but now it carried a tempting undertone.

"Power. Strength. Unlimited knowledge! Whatever you desire, it can be yours in time."

"Noah…" Hermione whispered, her voice trembling with worry.

She was afraid. Afraid that Noah might actually consider it.

Harry and Ron looked equally on edge. Unlike McGonagall—who remained outwardly calm—the two Gryffindors had already drawn their wands. If Noah gave the wrong answer, they were ready to act.

Even if they knew their spells would be useless.

The three Ravenclaws and Ernie were less reactive. While Ernie frowned in concern, he knew Noah well enough not to be worried.

As for Kenn and the others?

They barely batted an eye.

They knew Noah's hatred for Slytherin's manipulative tricks. No matter how tempting the offer, it was useless—because they weren't walking the same path.

Of course, that didn't mean they weren't careful.

They could tell Voldemort's words contained magic—a subtle compulsion woven into them.

A kind of persuasion that even an experienced wizard might struggle to resist.

But Noah?

He took a slow step forward, moving past Professor McGonagall and facing the swirling black mist directly.

"Really? That's quite the tempting offer, but you forgot something"

The mist pulsed. "Oh? And what might I have forgotten?"

Noah's smirk widened.

"I was born a Muggle, idiot!"

The entire room fell silent.

McGonagall's eyes widened slightly, Harry and Ron blinked in shock, and even Voldemort's swirling mist seemed to hesitate.

Noah had no intention of pretending anymore.

His expression turned completely disgusted.

"Your pathetic ideals are worth less than dirt to me! You want me to join you? You must be the dumbest bastard I've ever seen! Have you been dead for so long that your brain has turned into a lump of sunfish eggs floating in the Atlantic? Or do you think you're a honey badger in Africa?"

Noah's words came out fast, leaving Voldemort no room to respond.

Kenn and the others were shocked.

This was the legendary Dark Lord.

The infamous You-Know-Who.

And Noah was just straight-up insulting him?!

Damn.

That was badass.

Even McGonagall was momentarily speechless.

But before anyone could process what just happened, Noah pulled out his wand.

Just as he did, the black mist lunged.

A dark, twisting shape rushed toward him, moving with terrifying speed—

But Noah was faster.

His reflexes, his casting speed—everything was a step ahead.

Even before McGonagall could react, Noah had already made his move.

"Lumos Maxima!"

With a surge of magic, a blinding light erupted from Noah's wand.

A light as bright as the sun.

The effect was instantaneous.

The black mist shrieked.

A high-pitched, ear-splitting wail tore through the air. The sound was so unbearable that everyone felt a shiver crawl down their spines.

It was a howl of pain.

A scream from the depths of hell.

And then—

It faded.

The shrieks grew weaker. The mist thinned.

Until—

There was nothing left.

Only a faint burning smell lingered in the air.

Not far away, Quirrell's body remained motionless in a pool of blood.

---

The Next Day

"And that's what happened."

Noah and the others now stood in Dumbledore's office, facing the old man himself.

Each of them was standing rigidly, like well-behaved schoolchildren.

Even Harry and Ron—who were usually more relaxed—were being exceptionally obedient.

Despite Dumbledore's usual gentle expression, none of them dared to act out.

After all, this was Dumbledore.

And right now, they were under investigation.

It was now the second day since the incident.

After Noah had knocked out Quirrell and "burned" Voldemort's soul fragment to nothingness, McGonagall had immediately snapped out of her shock.

She had sent them straight back to their dormitories, with strict orders not to leave.

Then, she had summoned every professor for an emergency meeting.

Quirrell had been rushed to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries.

And this morning?

Dumbledore had personally collected them for questioning.

Which led to now—where Noah had just finished explaining everything.

"Professor Dumbledore, we swear that everything happened exactly as Noah said."

Kenn finally spoke up, his voice slightly anxious.

They had no idea what Dumbledore was thinking right now.

What if he misunderstood?

What if Noah got into trouble?

"Of course I believe Mr. Finniel's words. There's no need to be so nervous."

Dumbledore's voice was warm, snapping them out of their worries.

And yet—

Something was off.

For a brief moment, the Headmaster had seemed... distracted.

Not because he doubted Noah. No, he had seen everything.

Even if he hadn't, McGonagall's report had been more than enough proof.

No, the reason for Dumbledore's silence was something else entirely.

He was stunned.

Harry had mentioned before that he had sought out Noah and Ron for help. He had recounted Noah's analysis of the situation.

And after seeing how Noah had handled Quirrell and Voldemort's soul fragment...

Dumbledore couldn't help but think—

If there truly was a Savior in this world...

It was Noah Finniel.

Smart. Calm. Knowledgeable.

Unyielding in the face of darkness.

Even most adult wizards wouldn't have handled things this well.

And yet, Noah had done so—at just eleven years old.

Dumbledore exhaled slowly.

There was no need to think any further.

Whether or not Noah was the Chosen One didn't matter.

What mattered was that he was an exceptional student.

A student Dumbledore couldn't help but feel...

A little biased towards.

"He must be properly trained. And more importantly..."

"He must be protected."

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