Chapter 206: Duel of the Dark Lords

Cyrus's golden eyes sparked with lightning, and blue flames ignited beside him.

The flames bent down to either side, as if bowing to their king.

Bellatrix's gaze was fiery as she looked at the handsome Cyrus, momentarily forgetting the pain in her arm.

It wasn't just her—all the Death Eaters had been knocked down by the immense magical power, gazing up like ants at the nearly divine figure above them.

Although there was no doubt, that this noseless man was their lord, the one they had sworn to serve the the Dark Mark burned and called to them!

But there was doubt in their eyes. How could there possibly be two Dark Lords in this world?

The Death Eaters immediately recalled Voldemort's earlier mention of a "fake." But this so-called fake was too magnificent, making the real Voldemort appear even more downtrodden, like a tattered imitation.

"Although I had thought about the possibility, I didn't expect you would actually dare to come before me," Voldemort drawled lazily.

Although he looked somewhat disheveled at the moment, his aura remained strong. During the explosion of flames earlier, he was the only one who didn't get a speck of dust on him.

He wasn't surprised to see Cyrus at all, as if he had anticipated his arrival.

"—Especially since you came alone."

The Dark Mark could summon the Death Eaters, and naturally, Cyrus could sense it too.

After all, this was a spell the 16 y/o Tom had invented. However, Voldemort had assumed Cyrus would first go to Dumbledore.

Unfortunately, Dumbledore was trapped in the Ministry of Magic due to a small trick by Voldemort. If Cyrus appeared at the Ministry, it would lead to a new entanglement, and by then, Voldemort would have already left with Harry. As for now—

He arrogantly sized up Cyrus, thinking that killing him here and now would clearly be the better choice!

No, not just killing! But like a snake, to swallow Cyrus alive!

To digest him! 

To take back what rightfully belongs to him!

"HEH! What is there that I wouldn't dare? Do you think I would be afraid of you, a defeated opponent?" Cyrus sneered, but his words caused an uproar among the Death Eaters.

The Dark Lord lost? Not only to the "Boy Who Lived" but also to this person in front of them, whom Voldemort had called an "imposter"—another Dark Lord.

Upon hearing this news, those Death Eaters who were already wavering became even more shaken.

Initially, the purebloods followed in Voldemort's footsteps only for their own gain. But as Voldemort's power grew stronger and he fully tore away his mask, though he continued to promote the rhetoric of pureblood supremacy, what was the reality?

Whether pureblood or half-blood, they were merely his servants.

They didn't care how brutal Voldemort was towards Muggles or even Muggle-born wizards, but now they were the ones groveling like dogs.

They had joined him due to his charisma and the dream he showed them! Now he has lost the charm that attracted people towards him and only uses force to rule over them pure bloods like they are some muggle-born!

But did they truly wish to submit right now?

It was only out of fear of Voldemort's cruel and formidable methods!

But now, this power seemed no longer unbeatable. Was there still a need for them to risk their lives for Voldemort? Was there still a need to risk staying by the side of a venomous snake that could bite their throats at any moment? 

Their eyes subtly shifted back and forth between Cyrus and Voldemort, eager to know if what Cyrus said was true. Yet, they were also intimidated by Voldemort's terrifying presence and didn't dare make any rash moves.

The handsome wizard walked leisurely through the flames, his arrogant yet composed demeanor making him appear far more dignified than Voldemort's current devilish stance.

Cyrus walked over to Harry's side, the flames crackling around them, burning Tom Riddle Sr.'s bones to ashes.

The black-gray dust drifted into the night sky.

The ropes binding Harry were also burned off, and as the flames passed over his body, they healed his wounds.

"Sorry, I got caught again..." Harry said to Cyrus, feeling a bit embarrassed.

He really felt a bit useless, being kidnapped by Voldemort's followers twice, and both times from the supposedly safest place, Hogwarts...

Harry couldn't even imagine if he'd survive two days if he ever left Hogwarts.

"Even Sirius and Dumbledore didn't notice Barty Jr.'s disguise. This isn't your fault, Harry," Cyrus said gently. His eyes turned to the Death Eaters, his gaze both intense and warm.

Those filled with hostility seemed to be stunned as if by a fierce bird of prey!

Voldemort, however, didn't seem angry or annoyed at Cyrus's words. The strength he gained from his rebirth gave him confidence.

"I don't deny my previous failures. Of course, I call it a failure because I failed to kill you. But you, gaining a slight, insignificant victory over me when I was at my weakest, have nothing to be proud of." His slit-like pupils emanated a dangerous aura, like the stench of blood.

"Now I am fully resurrected," Voldemort said as he twirled his yew wand. He didn't cast any spells, but his immense magical power still stirred up a whirlwind, suppressing Cyrus's flames.

"You haven't seen me at my strongest, have you?" Voldemort continued, still thinking that Cyrus was the soul from his diary.

"I can forgive your youth, but I cannot tolerate your usurpation," his voice grew colder. In fact, from the very beginning, Voldemort had intended to kill Cyrus in front of all the Death Eaters.

Only by personally killing Cyrus could he prove his power to those Death Eaters with ulterior motives, show that his so-called past failures were nothing, and confirm that he was still the unparalleled Dark Lord!

"Watch closely, my friends. I am going to completely erase any misunderstanding in your minds." His gaze swept around before returning to Cyrus. "Now I will kill him to prove my strength, right here, right now, in front of you all. I am no longer weak, and Dumbledore is not here to help him. This way, you won't doubt who is truly stronger."

Voldemort's words were low, his murderous intent like a jet of blood gushing from a slit throat! 

In the next moment, both Cyrus and Voldemort moved simultaneously.

Neither cared about any formalities. With a blank expression, Cyrus shielded Harry behind him with his left hand, stepped forward, and swung his wand with his right.

Instantly, the flames surged like a tidal wave towards Voldemort!

The blaze erupted!

Voldemort casually waved his wand, shattering the wave of flames, which dissipated like bubbles.

Then, he pressed his wand down in Cyrus's direction, forcing the fire shield back. Cyrus immediately felt an immense surge of pressure!

The fully resurrected Voldemort indeed possessed unparalleled power. Even though Cyrus's magical strength had been greatly enhanced by ancient magic, he was instantly put at a disadvantage.

Voldemort's power was simply incomprehensible; perhaps only Dumbledore, wielding the Elder Wand, could surpass him.

He shattered the flames, stepped forward into the dark night, raised his wrist high, and violently whipped out a black curse!

The curse flew straight toward Cyrus, yet it weighed down the Death Eaters, forcing them to bend over under its force.

Barty Crouch Jr. lay on the ground, struggling to lift his head as the flames and gale bore down on his back.

The gap in power was glaringly obvious at this moment!

Barty was a highly talented wizard, but in this battle, he didn't even have the qualifications to intervene.

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