A wizard like Voldemort, having ventured so far down the path of magic, couldn't possibly be unaware of the danger his actions posed and the formidable strength of his enemies. In Britain alone, there was Dumbledore, a fierce obstacle standing in his way. And if he looked beyond the borders of his homeland, what then?
From Nicolas Flamel to the long-lived former headmasters of Hogwarts, it was clear that there were many wizards who had lived for centuries. Who knew what kind of ancient wizard with unimaginable power might emerge from some forgotten corner of the world?
And that was just the magical community. The power of Muggles should not be underestimated either.
The Muggle elite had known about wizards for centuries. Some royal families had long-standing ties with the magical world. The world had always been run by Muggles from behind the scenes—surely they had their own means of dealing with threats. Would they not have developed some special technology or methods to protect themselves?
That brought the conversation back to the beginning: Why had Tom Riddle become Voldemort, stepping into the spotlight, even when the path to immortality was still incomplete?
Time.
Hearing Roger's words, Voldemort was suddenly struck by a realization. The Department of Mysteries' research into time was highly secretive, and understanding it was nearly impossible for outsiders. Moreover, time-related studies had become taboo after the disastrous event of 1899—long before Voldemort's birth. Voldemort, obsessed with dark magic and disinterested in other fields, had never given this much thought.
I need to find a way to meddle with the Department of Mysteries, he mused to himself.
Voldemort glanced at Roger, who was still waiting for an answer, and said, "Of course, I know that Horcruxes are not perfect."
Though Voldemort had become blinded by the pursuit of dark magic and had failed to consider the space-time aspect, he knew deep down that there were still improvements to be made in his methods.
"But as a single wizard, my talents have limits. I can't possibly make the path of Horcruxes public and gather everyone's strength to research it."
Voldemort was no stranger to accolades: a once-in-a-century genius, a Dark Lord, and a future Minister of Magic who would rise to power within five years of graduating. Yet, this didn't mean that his magical talent was without boundaries. Even Dumbledore could pose a significant challenge to him.
He was powerful, but not powerful enough to transcend all limitations.
Just like the countless geniuses in the Ritual Faction, Transformation Faction, and External Object Faction who sought to elevate themselves from wizards to gods—yet all fell short before the Wailing Wall—Voldemort too had failed to break through the limits of ordinary wizardry.
This answered Roger's first question: It wasn't that Voldemort didn't want to continue pursuing immortality—it was that he couldn't.
As for Roger's second question…
"Do you know Grindelwald?" Voldemort asked. Just as Roger had shown curiosity about his path, Voldemort too wondered how Roger would respond if he faced the same dilemma he had.
"I know of him," Roger replied. "I've heard of his 'For the Greater Good' philosophy."
Voldemort nodded in Quirrell's body. "Yes."
"Then what is my 'banner'?" Roger asked.
"Pure-blood," Voldemort replied.
Roger smirked. "I wouldn't forget that."
Voldemort said nothing in response, simply murmuring, "Hmm."
"What's the common ground between the Death Eaters and the Saints?" Roger asked.
Reflecting on his own past, Roger hesitated before answering, "Wizard supremacy?"
"Exactly," Voldemort confirmed. "Whether pure-blood wizards or elite wizards, what we are doing is fundamentally the same. We are gathering a group to build a new world order centered on wizards—a community of shared interests."
Since Voldemort couldn't transcend alone, he needed a circle of loyal followers to accomplish his goals. He had gathered the Death Eaters and raised the banner of pure-blood supremacy to rally those he considered worthy to his cause.
"I know that Muggle-borns are not weak, but they're unreliable. Their loyalty often lies with neither wizards nor the greater cause."
At this, Voldemort's face twisted into a ferocious smile under Quirrell's turban. "If you study wizarding history, you'll see that even when Muggles were weak, there were always those who sought to dominate them. But every time, they were stopped by wizards themselves."
"Wizards are more powerful than Muggles, but only as long as they aren't betrayed from within. A powerful wizard can lead the charge, but if there are traitors in their midst, the power of magic becomes useless. Muggles can easily overwhelm wizards."
Voldemort scoffed at the so-called "Order of Merlin," loyal to the Muggle royal families and devoted to protecting Muggles. Reciting the founding declaration of that absurd organization, Voldemort found the idea increasingly laughable. Looking at the power of modern Muggle civilization, it only deepened his contempt.
"Roger, I'm over sixty now. Since around 1930, when I began to remember things clearly, I saw how weak the Muggles were. Their most advanced weapons couldn't even rival a wizard's spell, and their machines were sluggish. But then, I watched in awe as their power grew at a terrifying rate."
He narrowed his eyes, recalling the past. "And what about wizards? There's been no progress! Wizards still cling to ancient spells from hundreds, even thousands, of years ago, believing them to be the height of power."
Voldemort's eyes grew cold as he continued. "I spent my youth during the most rapid period of technological advancement. Yet, while Muggle power surged, wizardkind remained stagnant. Wizards are complacent, locked in the past, while the Muggles—those 'lesser' beings—outpace them in every way."
"People say I could become Minister of Magic within a few years, and I certainly have the ability to do so. With the long life granted by Horcruxes, it seems I could rule for hundreds, even thousands of years. But…"
"And then what?" Roger asked, mirroring Voldemort's tone from just moments ago.
"Muggle civilization is advancing at a terrifying pace, while wizarding civilization remains stagnant. It's clear where this path leads."
"Two hundred years? Or three hundred? The man who once held the highest office will eventually become nothing more than a rat scurrying across the streets, an immortal rat with a lifespan so long that the entire world will seek to destroy him. A wanted criminal, endlessly fleeing, forever pursued."
"That's not the fate I want."
"Roger, I have no interest in steering a ship that's doomed to sink!"
Hearing this, Roger finally understood the root of Voldemort's impatience.
Time was working against him.
Muggle civilization was growing stronger with every passing year, while his own power had reached a bottleneck. The prospect of breaking through was uncertain, and even the entire wizarding world seemed stagnant, with no clear path to further advancement.
"So, you became the Dark Lord at a time when your future seemed infinitely bright?"
"Exactly. I must launch this war, take control, and dominate everything before Muggles inevitably crush wizards with no resistance left."
Voldemort's words were cold, resolute. He was willing to take this gamble, even if it meant risking everything.
Did he know his path was dangerous?
He knew it all too well.
But from his humble beginnings in an orphanage to reaching the pinnacle of power in the wizarding world, becoming a noble and powerful figure had consumed him.
To fall from grace, to become insignificant once again?
No. He would rather die on the battlefield, wearing his crown, than live as a lowly, defeated man.
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