Chapter 215: He is calling

"T.. This.. "

Some of them were faces he knew all too well, ones he could never forget. Like James Potter and Lily Potter, whom he had killed twelve years ago.

Like old Tom Riddle, whom he had murdered decades earlier.

And the bloodline of the Gaunt family.

Others were faces he couldn't even recall—perhaps people he had killed without thought or the unfortunate souls who had died because of him.

But now, they had come back from hell!

Was he afraid of these ghosts?

No!

Voldemort showed no mercy. His spell struck one of the corpses directly in the chest, causing an intense explosion!

The fiery blast instantly consumed the entire army of specters.

"Playing with undead in front of me? You've got a long way to go!" Voldemort sneered coldly.

But Cyrus simply shook his head.

"Those are not undead. They are the weight of your sins. The only thing left for you to do is—"

"Bow down and repent to them!"

Of course, to Voldemort, this was nonsense. He drove his wand into the hard ground with force.

"Finite Incantatem!"

The power of the general counter-curse, combined with Voldemort's immense magical strength and intensity, took effect.

A thin, golden curtain formed an impenetrable wall, halting the spread of the hellfire and stopping the continuous rebirth of the undead within it.

The effect of Finite Incantatem was simple—it could neutralize the magic of certain spells, rendering them ineffective.

As long as the caster was strong enough, most spells, except for the Unforgivable Curses, could be stopped by the general counter-curse.

Yes, except for the Unforgivable Curses!

Cyrus took a step forward.

"Avada Kedavra!"

"Avada Kedavra!"

Two Killing Curses collided mid-air, and the essence of death and shadows instantly began to spread.

The grayish-green light turned into a mist-like substance, rippling outward like waves.

Voldemort, driven by furious intent to kill, cast a curse more powerful than ever before!

The green light surged forward like a flood breaking through a dam—

*Crack—*

A faint cracking sound echoed through the air.

The massive outpouring of magic caused Cyrus's wand to reach its breaking point, but neither of them ceased their attacks!

Cyrus, holding his fractured wand, lifted his head as a fierce wind swept his hair back from his forehead. Without hesitation, he began walking toward Voldemort.

The shockwaves of their spells even triggered the magical defenses of Hogwarts far above them, expanding a transparent barrier that unsettled the young witches and wizards within the castle.

Even the professors inside were filled with concern.

None of them had ever witnessed a scene like this before.

Most of the students had been escorted to the Great Hall by the prefects and other staff, and many were still unaware of the true nature of the events unfolding beneath them.

Only Ron, Hermione, and Ginny gathered together, praying that Cyrus and the professors would safely bring Harry back.

At the same time, in the empty headmaster's office, the fireplace suddenly ignited with green flames.

From within the flames, a tall, thin figure stepped out.

His face was serious, his beard long, and he wore half-moon spectacles. His nose looked as if it had been broken several times.

The portraits on the walls seemed to have been waiting for him for quite some time. As soon as Fitzgerald saw Dumbledore, he anxiously spoke up: "They're in the depths of Hogwarts now. The seal we placed long ago has been broken. I fear it may be too late."

"I understand," Dumbledore nodded. His only hope was that it wasn't Voldemort who had broken the seal; otherwise, there might be no one capable of stopping him.

With a wave of his hand, Dumbledore summoned Fawkes, who enveloped him in a ball of fire. In the next moment, both vanished in a burst of flames.

Inside the cavern.

When Dumbledore and Fawkes arrived, Voldemort had already been reduced to a cold, lifeless corpse....

Cyrus stood beside Voldemort, holding his broken wand, as though mourning him.

The cavern was collapsing, with massive boulders crashing down, but several towering spirals supported the structure. These towers had been conjured by Cyrus to prevent the underground collapse from causing Hogwarts to sink into the earth.

The phoenix circled once in the air before flying toward Cyrus, perching affectionately on his shoulder.

Dumbledore quickly walked across the cracked stone bridge and came to stand beside Cyrus.

"It really was him," he said softly, as if with relief. "Did you kill him?"

"You know very well that Voldemort can't truly be killed," Cyrus replied without turning his head.

"At least now he's reduced to that pitiful form again," Dumbledore said. "He spent all his efforts to regain a body, only to have it destroyed once more at your hands."

Cyrus didn't respond directly but instead brought up another matter.

"I've inherited the power sealed by the Guardians," his golden-red eyes fixed on Dumbledore as if testing him. "You agreed to let me undergo the trial. Do you regret it, Dumbledore?"

One Dark Lord had been destroyed, but another, even stronger Dark Lord, had been born!

The dark power left behind by Morgana, combined with Cyrus's talent, had made even Voldemort no match for him!

"This isn't a legacy I've left behind," Dumbledore replied. "If even the Guardians believe you are worthy, what right do I have to stop you?"

"In fact, Fitzgerald has always believed that light and darkness complement each other. I trust you will not become a servant of power. And it seems the facts support that."

"Perhaps," Cyrus glanced down at the wand in his hand, then turned to leave.

"In such a hurry to go?" Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. "I believe there are those who would want you to stay at Hogwarts. After everything that has happened, we could use a grand feast to celebrate our victory."

"It's far from being a victory yet, Dumbledore," Cyrus shook his head. But then he thought of Ginny and paused for a moment.

"I'll attend the feast."

.....

The sky gradually brightened.

After the night passed, Voldemort and the Death Eaters had disappeared.

Harry and the others returned to the forest where the battle had taken place, though it no longer resembled a forest. Instead, it looked like scorched earth, as if it had endured the destruction of the apocalypse.

"W ...Where's Mr. Cyrus?" Harry looked around, his eyes filled with worry.

Both Voldemort and Cyrus had disappeared at the same time, and shortly after, the Death Eaters had suddenly retreated, as if summoned. But there had been no sign of Cyrus.

"Could it be..." Professor McGonagall's expression darkened, her mind already jumping to the worst conclusion.

"Shut up, you old hag!" Bellatrix snapped viciously, "The Master would never lose to that noseless bastard!"

She pulled up her sleeve, revealing the spiral mark on the inside of her arm, and smiled.

"See? This is his new mark! He's summoning us!"

"He's calling his followers!"

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