Chapter 378: The Last Madness

Next, the girls took turns presenting Voldemort with evidence he could neither believe nor dare to accept.

Penelope produced a diary that had been split in half, clearly the one Voldemort had left for the Malfoy family, written during his time at Hogwarts.

Cho Chang showed the damaged Hufflepuff cup, which reminded Voldemort of the "dragon escape incident" at Gringotts months earlier, and he began to grasp the truth.

Finally, Luna presented the Ravenclaw diadem, the only one of the Horcruxes that was undamaged. 

However, given the fate of the other Horcruxes, Voldemort could already envision the outcome of this one now that it had fallen into Alaric's hands.

With the five Horcruxes that had already been destroyed, plus Nagini, who had just been killed by Alaric, and the Horcrux that even Voldemort himself did not know about—Harry Potter—his seven Horcruxes—of which he believed there were only six—were all obliterated.

"Well, what now? Your reliance on what you call your trick to conquer death has been completely unraveled by us." 

After the girls finished their presentations, Alaric took the floor again, smiling faintly at Voldemort.

This smile was elegant; even the girls behind Alaric couldn't help but be momentarily entranced by it. However, to Voldemort, this smile was nothing but naked mockery.

"You... you dare..."

Voldemort let out a somewhat desperate growl. Alaric saw a flash of panic in the snake-like face opposite him, but it vanished almost immediately.

Both sides of the onlookers became agitated once more, with emotions clearly divided.

But the commotion was interrupted again.

Suddenly, Voldemort began to laugh maniacally, a laugh more terrifying than his shouts, cold and insane, echoing throughout the silent hall.

Once everyone's attention was focused on him, Voldemort finally ceased his frenzied laughter.

"I must admit, you do have some skill. I didn't expect the one to discover my Horcruxes and destroy them would not be that old man Dumbledore, but you, this young Muggle—you've changed my view on Muggles a bit."

With that, Voldemort displayed a smile that was both mad and slightly relieved.

At this point, Voldemort's language became oddly polite, though his tone remained extremely arrogant.

"But what does that matter?" he said, his voice rising, "Do you think you know more magic than I do?" he exclaimed, "More than I, Lord Voldemort? 

The spells I've cast, even Dumbledore wouldn't have dreamed of! Horcruxes... are just one of them! You dare to attempt to defeat me with this? You are facing me, the Dark Lord!"

With Voldemort's grandiose words, his Death Eaters cheered wildly, laughing as they raised their wands, shouting Voldemort's name.

Although it was a moonless night, the werewolves howled at the sky, giants led by their chieftains swung their clubs and roared in response to Voldemort.

And even the Dementors, said to be devoid of emotion, seemed infected by the momentum of this last struggle, soaring and screeching.

For a moment, the enemy's morale soared back to its peak.

Gazing at the mad, blood-red eyes of Voldemort, now brimming with ferocity, along with his emboldened minions, Alaric couldn't help but nod slightly to himself.

In the face of being outmatched, with the magic he relied upon to survive broken, and nowhere left to flee, this villain still hadn't fallen into despair and defeat; instead, he had become more carefree and crazed.

Voldemort's earlier words, while certainly containing an element of stubbornness, also reflected his inner pride. 

Even surrounded by enemies and on the brink of defeat, Voldemort refused to acknowledge his weakness. He obsessively placed himself in the position of the strong.

Though such obsession could be viewed as arrogance and a manifestation of his madness, it also highlighted what made him remarkable as a Dark Lord.

After all, no matter how dark, evil, or bloodthirsty a villain may be, one can still find redeeming qualities within him—otherwise, how could he gather a group of followers, wreak havoc, and become a prominent villain?

Unfortunately, even so, Alaric felt no pity for him.

After all, he was the one blocking Alaric's path.

"Then it seems we must see the truth in our hands." He adjusted his robes and spoke to Voldemort.

"You… are right."

Voldemort also symbolically tidied his tattered robe.

Inspired by their leaders, the girls, the wizards from the Ministry of Magic and the Order of the Phoenix, the centaur tribe, and the unicorn Lurue began to groom themselves and arrange into battle formation.

The Death Eaters, werewolves, giants, and Dementors also formed their ranks. Though their numbers were significantly smaller due to many sacrifices, their momentum was not diminished.

Both sides had entered a standoff for the final battle.

"Then this is truly the end."

After Alaric finished speaking, he slightly bowed to Voldemort.

Voldemort returned the gesture.

After the two exchanged bows, they turned to step back, as is customary in wizard dueling rituals.

Of course, the armies on both sides remained still, their focus entirely on the central battlefield, their leaders.

The start of the duel between the leaders was like the starting gun for the final battle.

Both sides stepped back one step, two steps, three steps…

Finally, after ten steps, they both tightened their grips on their wands and turned to face each other.

In unison, both recited the incantations they had prepared for so long.

"Avada Kedavra!"

With a thunderous sound, like cannon fire, silver and green light collided in the center of the battlefield, creating a violent noise.

And with this deafening sound, as if hearing the referee's starting gun, both the Ministry of Magic and the Death Eaters launched their attacks against each other.

In an instant, spells began to rain down on both sides of the battlefield.

The remaining giants charged forward, their spirit undiminished compared to before their kin had been killed.

The centaurs also raised their spears, charging towards the enemy, the thunderous sound of hooves echoing as if a real cavalry was advancing.

In the sky, Dementors dove towards the wizards with a horrifying shriek, spreading a cold, evil darkness.

However, the chill barely drifted toward the Ministry's side before it was instantly dispelled by silver light. 

Lurue raised her front hooves and whinnied, then galloped towards the Dementors, her horn shining with a silver light representing positive emotions.

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