Chapter 261: You Joined Voldemort?

"I didn't expect you to notice me. I thought I was hiding quite well!"

Grindelwald said in surprise.

Indeed, his concealment was exceptional. By hiding within the Floo Network in the form of fire, it was nearly impossible to locate him based on magical traces alone. However, the issue was that Cyrus was no ordinary wizard.

He could perceive traces of ancient magic and, after acquiring the power of the Thunderbird, had developed an acute sensitivity to even subtle magical residues.

What's more, Grindelwald had erased only the magical traces of his concealment, neglecting the hostility he had inadvertently revealed before this second task began. For someone like Cyrus, whose instincts rivaled those of magical creatures, how could he possibly overlook such a dangerous presence?

"Do you know," Grindelwald said softly, "I was originally planning to cast the Killing Curse on you directly."

His heterochromatic eyes gleamed, the silver one seemingly reflecting glimpses of the future.

—Just as you killed Albus Dumbledore from behind at Hogwarts' Astronomy Tower!

Grindelwald added this thought silently to himself.

Cyrus showed no anger at Grindelwald's admission of intending to ambush him. Once someone is confirmed as an enemy, it's only natural to use every means available to eliminate them.

Cyrus was a bit curious—what had made Grindelwald change his original plan?

"Or rather, have you joined forces with Voldemort?" Cyrus asked.

"Perhaps," Grindelwald replied ambiguously, neither confirming nor denying it. This vague attitude was enough to validate Cyrus's suspicions.

With the conversation at this point, there was nothing more to discuss.

"Then let me see for myself what the legendary dark wizard is capable of," Cyrus said coldly, firing a probing spell.

That spell seemed to serve as the horn signaling the start of their battle, launching his confrontation with legend itself!

Meanwhile, in the Quidditch stadium, everyone watching was stunned to see Cyrus engaged in combat with Grindelwald.

The older wizards, in particular, were deeply shocked; they knew better than anyone just how powerful Grindelwald was.

Albus Dumbledore's worldwide renown and title as the greatest wizard weren't earned simply because he spent decades fighting Voldemort—it was because he had defeated Grindelwald!

People often said Voldemort feared Dumbledore above all others, but this same Dumbledore had once been Grindelwald's first follower.

A smile appeared on Barty Crouch Jr.'s face.

For Cyrus, battling Grindelwald at this moment was an ideal turn of events.

The former Dark Lord, true to his longstanding enmity and love with Dumbledore, had foolishly allowed himself to be manipulated into fighting Cyrus.

Of course, Barty Crouch Jr. didn't believe Grindelwald's strength surpassed Cyrus's. No matter how terrifying this legend might have been in his prime, he had spent fifty years confined in Nurmengard. Who could say whether his magical prowess had deteriorated over those decades?

And Cyrus?

He was the one who had defeated Voldemort himself!

Even so, Barty Crouch Jr. eagerly hoped the two would inflict heavy damage on each other. If that happened, then when the Dark Lord was resurrected, only Dumbledore would stand in his way!

"That lunatic really thinks Grindelwald will be as easy to deal with as Dumbledore?" Dolores Umbridge sneered, her words dripping with disdain and a twisted satisfaction.

In the previous match, she had been thoroughly humiliated by Bellatrix and knocked unconscious with a slap from Cyrus, which even fractured half the bones in her face.

If not for the magical world's advanced healing, she might have been permanently disfigured.

The physical pain was one thing; what truly tormented her was the public disgrace—being humiliated before thousands of spectators and the entire wizarding community.

Now, her heart brimming with malice, she cursed Cyrus silently, hoping he would meet his end at Grindelwald's hands.

In the previous competition, although Cyrus had a tentative exchange with Dumbledore that demonstrated his strength, no one truly believed Cyrus was a match for the legendary wizard. After all, during that exchange, neither Cyrus nor Dumbledore had used their full power.

Moreover, everyone knew Dumbledore to be a gentle and courteous man.

He didn't kill, and he rarely even injured others.

That inconclusive duel was widely regarded as Dumbledore's leniency toward a younger wizard, a show of restraint rather than an earnest fight.

"But this boy actually believes his abilities can compare to Dumbledore's and Grindelwald's? How foolish!" Umbridge sneered coldly. "Grindelwald is nothing like Dumbledore—he has no mercy!"

Not far away, Snape cast a frosty glance at her, as if observing a clown.

When it came to Cyrus's capabilities, Snape knew better than anyone else.

The first time he officially met Cyrus had been in Godric's Hollow. Back then, Cyrus's power was nowhere near what it was now, yet even then, Snape found himself completely overpowered.

Since then, Cyrus had defeated Voldemort's form possessing a goblin with a mythical armor and later Voldemort himself—

Now, Snape could sense the terrifying strength within Cyrus growing more overwhelming with each encounter.

It was hard for Snape to imagine anyone in the world possessing greater power than Cyrus.

As for Grindelwald, Snape didn't know much about him, but he was certain that Grindelwald was no match for Cyrus.

...

Deep within the sixth level of the Ministry of Magic.

Cyrus casually cast a spell, and Grindelwald didn't dodge. Instead, he countered with a spell of his own!

He needed to gauge the full extent of Cyrus's strength.

The moment their spells collided, it was as if a typhoon had made landfall on the coast. The sheer force of their magic created a violent whirl of wind in the confined room, quickly growing into a hurricane!

The Floo powder that blanketed the entire room was swept into the air, scattering to every corner before igniting like the gunmetal-gray powder of saltpeter.

Whoosh—

Green flames flared and vanished like a curtain of auroras.

When the spells clashed, the ground itself trembled.

Grindelwald hadn't yet fully discerned Cyrus's strength. He frowned deeply, the sensation of his spell colliding with Cyrus's magic akin to pouring water through a hose into a vast lake—it simply disappeared into the overwhelming force.

Of course, the reality wasn't quite so exaggerated.

Cyrus's magical strength was at least twice that of Grindelwald's.

Initially, their inherent magical power was almost evenly matched. The fifty years of imprisonment hadn't weakened Grindelwald—in fact, it seemed those fifty years of suppressed passion had made his magic even stronger!

As Dumbledore once said, the most powerful magic is none other than—love.

Of course, even so, Cyrus was confident he could hold his own against Grindelwald without resorting to the ancient, dark power left behind by Morgana.

With a flick of his wrist, Cyrus deftly diverted their colliding spells.

The deflected magic shot upwards like a reverse meteor streaking through the room—

Boom!

The magically reinforced ceiling couldn't withstand the combined force of their power and was blown open, leaving a massive crater.

Above the sixth floor was the first floor—

The room's temperature plummeted abruptly. For Cyrus, it felt like a cold, bitter summer day in Azkaban.

As for Grindelwald, it reminded him of every frigid winter in Nurmengard.

The sun without warmth resembled a cold, incandescent light. Snow blanketed every corner outside, and the damp floors were coated in ice. Memories of loss flooded Grindelwald's mind—his beloved gone, dying beneath the Astronomy Tower in the dead of night, struck down by the Killing Curse like a bolt of lightning.

Dark creatures, like phantoms, surged into the chamber through the massive breach.

The monsters guarding the first floor were Dementors.

Both Cyrus and Grindelwald quickly understood the source of the oppressive emotions weighing on them.

These vile, skeletal creatures, faceless and grotesque, thrived on devouring happiness. They lured out the darkest memories buried within and stripped away every trace of joy.

"Get out of my sight!"

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