Chapter 264 "The Inferi"

"Avery!" Selwyn's voice pierced the eerie silence of the cemetery, his fear palpable in the air. The sound reverberated, merging with the howling wind, casting a deeper pall over the already somber atmosphere.

Avery lay motionless on the ground, his lifeless form stark against the cold earth. The hood that once concealed his features now lay discarded beside him, revealing his pale, lifeless face. His eyes stared wide in disbelief, his mouth agape in a silent scream of terror, frozen in the moment of his demise.

Voldemort's gaze swept over the circle of Death Eaters, each one quivering with dread. They had instinctively distanced themselves further from the confrontation, retreating almost ten feet away.

At this distance, even the swiftest spell would struggle to reach its mark. The unknown nature of Avery's death sent a shiver down their spines. They had witnessed only a flash of green light before Avery collapsed, his demise swift and silent.

Such arcane and inexplicable magic left even the most knowledgeable among them baffled and uneasy. In the hushed aftermath, a sense of foreboding gripped their hearts, a shadow of uncertainty that refused to dissipate.

Voldemort's eyes narrowed a dangerous glint of red dancing beneath his lids.

"Is it spatial magic?" Voldemort's voice was measured, devoid of his usual arrogance and brimming instead with solemnity. "Did you redirect my attack onto Avery?"

Skyler's demeanor remained unchanged, his face adorned with the same indifferent smile as before. To him, the cataclysmic attack he had just orchestrated seemed inconsequential, a trivial matter not worth acknowledging.

"It is indeed spatial magic," Skyler confirmed, nonchalantly. "A secret of my own creation— 'The Moon Turns and the Stars Move.' Quite poetic, don't you think?" He clicked his tongue in mild frustration. "Though, I'm still torn between 'The Moon Turns and the Stars Move' and 'The Stars Turn Around.' Which do you prefer? Or perhaps a simpler name, such as Dimensional Shift?"

Voldemort's response was icy. "You haven't mastered spatial magic yet, have you? Otherwise, why redirect the attack to Avery instead of me?"

Skyler's laughter reverberated through the tense atmosphere. "You truly have a high opinion of yourself, sir. But have you considered that perhaps... those secrets you believe are safeguarded are no longer secrets to many?" His tone dripped with conspiracy. "What secrets, precisely, am I referring to?"

"What did you say?!" Voldemort's shout sliced through the air, a chill creeping into his heart. Since Skyler's arrival, he had maintained a firm grip on the situation, his words and actions hinting at a deeper knowledge, one that should have remained hidden.

"You know what I'm talking about. After all, the Killing Curse can't touch you, can it? Unless someone happens to uncover all your secrets..." Skyler's smirk widened, a cunning glint in his eyes.

"Bastard!" Voldemort's realization struck like a bolt of lightning. Skyler had discovered the Horcruxes. The mention of "several secrets" held profound meaning—Skyler knew about his multiple Horcruxes.

Creating Horcruxes was Voldemort's most closely guarded secret. Not even the Death Eaters were privy to it, let alone the fact that he had made more than one. That Skyler could deduce such a secret hinted at possibilities beyond Voldemort's imagination.

Skyler had stumbled upon one of his Horcruxes, if not more!

Now, battling was the furthest thing from Voldemort's mind. His priority was to Apparate and inspect each of his Horcruxes.

"Kill him!" Voldemort's voice sliced through the air like a blade, but the Death Eaters were frozen by the spectacle of Skyler's appearance on stage and his bizarre method of dispatching Avery. None dared to move. They were not fools—

Disobeying Voldemort might earn punishment from his followers, but acting recklessly could lead to death. That much was clear to everyone.

Aware that his single-target Killing Curse was ineffective, Voldemort shifted to darker magic.

"Fiendfyre!" The Fire Spell erupted from Voldemort's wand, twisting into a monstrous serpent of blue flame, hurtling towards Skyler with insatiable hunger.

Skyler merely shook his head, a hint of disappointment in his expression. "Is that all you've got besides the Killing Curse?" Despite the rapidly advancing fire serpent, Skyler remained unfazed. He strolled forward casually as if the looming threat of the enormous blue serpent didn't even register on his radar.

"Did you know that the final form of the Fiendfyre..." Skyler paused for effect, "is actually black!"

With a sweeping motion of his wand, the once towering blue serpent let out a whimper as it split cleanly down the middle.

One half transformed into jet-black flames, engaging the remaining blue portion in a fiery clash. The duel of black and blue ignited the air, distorting it with their searing heat.

Voldemort remained silent, but the red glimmer in his eyes dimmed as a sense of foreboding crept over him. He had gained no ground in this battle, and now he found himself subtly outmatched. Not one to persist in fruitless endeavors, the idea of retreat began to take root in his mind.

But before fleeing—

I must leave this wretch with a parting gift!

Skyler's ebony flames gradually overwhelmed the azure serpent, diminishing it to a fraction of its former size. Just as the blue fire faced imminent defeat—

Voldemort let out a piercing, sustained scream. In response, the surrounding cemetery plots erupted one by one, disgorging over twenty mummified figures from the earth.

Skyler recognized it in an instant. What kind of magic was this?

It was the Inferi!

The Inferi, lifeless corpses summoned by a dark wizard's spell, acted as puppets to carry out the wizard's commands.

The hollow, foggy eyes of these mummies fixed on Skyler, their ragged garments trailing behind them as they lurched forward. Contempt etched onto their sunken faces, they extended their arms towards Skyler with dry, grasping hands.

Voldemort waved his wand in a complex gesture. Suddenly, countless giant black mist serpents materialized around the Inferi, baring their bloody fangs menacingly at Skyler.

In Voldemort's heart, a secret smirk formed. These were not ordinary Inferi; they lacked intelligence and only knew how to attack blindly.

Since accepting the Shadow Dragon's aid in his resurrection, he had harbored suspicions about their inexplicable kindness. To counter any potential threat, he had ordered Peter to brew vast quantities of highly dangerous dark potions, which were then poured into the cemetery day and night.

If these Inferi were attacked—

They would self-destruct! The force of the explosion surpassed even the most potent blasting spell.

Originally intended as a contingency plan against the Shadow Dragon, Voldemort hadn't anticipated being compelled to use this trump card prematurely by a mere boy not yet fifteen.