I became Voldemort

Chapter 260: Dark Lord and the Dark Lord

"Cassandra Vole..."

Fleur stood as though facing a formidable enemy.

The pile of Fire Crab corpses beneath her feet felt like soft, shifting sand, and Cassandra was like a terrifying golden shark ready to tear her apart at any moment!

Fleur's fighting spirit wavered, but she still didn't lower her wand. Not because she was particularly brave, but because judging by Cassandra's performance in the last challenge, surrendering might as well mean death.

Even so, Fleur had a question she desperately wanted answered:

"I don't understand. Why are you targeting Beauxbatons so specifically?"

In the first challenge, Cassandra had eliminated many participants, but no one except the Beauxbatons champions had died.

Fleur couldn't wrap her head around it. What had Beauxbatons done to provoke Cassandra? Could it be that this girl had once wanted to attend Beauxbatons but was rejected?

But Cassandra had no intention of answering Fleur's question.

Not only did she refuse to respond, but she also added in French:

"Sorry, I don't understand French."

Then Cassandra raised her hand and cast a spell!

"Protego!"

Clang!

The spell struck directly against Fleur's Shield Charm. As expected of someone chosen as a champion, Fleur's spellcasting skills were solid.

In fact, a competent graduate from a magical school should meet the minimum standards for Auror recruitment by the Ministry of Magic upon graduation. Fleur, in terms of knowledge and magical prowess, was already quite exceptional. It wouldn't have been surprising if she had been offered a teaching position at Beauxbatons right after graduation.

Her only shortcoming was her lack of combat experience!

Compared to someone like Cassandra—a top-tier prodigy—there was still a significant gap.

In truth, Cyrus had long assessed Cassandra's talent. While she could be a bit arrogant at times, her natural abilities were on par with prodigies like Barty Crouch Jr. or Severus Snape!

But regardless of Cassandra's brilliance, Fleur was now filled with a profound sense of insult.

At the beginning of her time in Britain, her English had indeed been poor, but after several months at Hogwarts, she wasn't completely incapable of speaking it. The question she had just asked was in English, but Cassandra had responded in French, claiming she didn't understand!

If this wasn't an insult, then what was?!

Fleur glared angrily at Cassandra with her blue eyes—this woman was simply despicable!

Even if it cost her life, she couldn't allow Cassandra to look down on Beauxbatons!

With that mindset, Fleur resolved to fight with all her might. She was well aware that the second task forbade killing; otherwise, it would violate the tournament's rules. But judging by Cassandra's demeanor, it was clear she hadn't cared about the competition's rules from the very beginning.

And why would she? With the headmaster himself participating, the other champions had been mere ornaments from the start.

As for the possibility of facing repercussions from the International Confederation of Wizards for killing someone, Fleur held no hope. After the first task, the Confederation's attitude had already been evident—they didn't dare act against the young Ilvermorny headmaster.

She could only wager her life—to fight for the honor of the champions and the glory of her school!

Fleur took a deep breath and raised her wand. When she opened her eyes again, her resolve was unshakable.

Cassandra, on the other hand, was momentarily perplexed by Fleur's sudden shift in demeanor. Truthfully, she hadn't planned on killing anyone this time. Since Fleur wasn't a Death Eater, there was no need to kill her; Cassandra wasn't some kind of murderous monster after all.

But seeing Fleur take on such a "do-or-die" attitude, Cassandra quickly adjusted her stance.

Determination plays a significant role in a wizard's spellcasting. A wizard's strength stems not just from their magic but also from their inner will. Fleur's resolute mindset at this moment wouldn't grant her sudden new powers, but it would at least allow her to fully realize her existing abilities.

"Diffindo!"

Fleur began with a highly destructive spell.

Cassandra wasted no time; she pointed her wand at the ground and cast, "Obstructio!"

The smooth, black marble floor suddenly rose up, arching like the back of a wildcat, forming a trench-like barrier in front of Cassandra.

Bang!

A violent explosion followed.

The raised obstacle was sliced into fragments as if several blades had passed effortlessly through tofu, shattered instantly by Fleur's spell.

Seizing the momentum, Fleur pressed the attack. She couldn't afford to let Cassandra control the rhythm of the duel. The ground had barely exploded before Fleur impatiently unleashed another spell.

"Oppugno!"

This time, the fragments of the shattered stone were pulled into the air, transformed into deadly projectiles under Fleur's spell.

The stone shards surrounded Cassandra like bullets, launching from every direction, ready to tear her apart in a storm of sharp, unforgiving debris.

With no room to escape, the attack appeared inescapable.

But could such tricks truly hinder Cassandra?

She smirked coldly and casually cast a Shield Charm, "Protego!"

An invisible barrier materialized in front of her, absorbing the onslaught of flying shards. The moment they passed through her defense, the sharp stones disintegrated into harmless dust.

"Look what you've done—you've dirtied my clothes," Cassandra complained, frowning in annoyance as she dusted herself off. She cast a quick Scourgify on herself, restoring her pristine appearance, though her irritation lingered.

She was clearly losing patience and decided it was time to end the duel swiftly.

"Serpensortia!" Cassandra summoned a black viper. Without pause, she followed up with an Engorgement Charm, pointing her wand at the summoned snake:
"Engorgio!"

With a loud bang, smoke billowed, and the once two-meter-long serpent swelled to an enormous size, surpassing even a basilisk in sheer magnitude!

The now-gargantuan black snake raised its triangular head, its cold, lifeless eyes emitting an oppressive, foul aura, like stagnant, moss-covered swamp water.

Its forked tongue flicked menacingly, sensing Fleur's fear that practically oozed from the darkness.

Hissszzz~~ 

Fleur stiffly raised her gaze, her heart pounding as if gripped by an iron fist. It felt as though the massive, muscular body of the monstrous snake was already coiling around her, squeezing the air from her lungs.

For a wizard, a ferocious beast was already a terrifying foe, but this? A creature magnified to the size of a train, its venomous fangs gleaming in the dim light? This was beyond comprehension.

The black snake prepared to strike. It coiled a third of its body upward, towering ominously. Each of its scales, now the size of a human hand, gleamed like polished steel, rising and falling as though the beast were breathing.

It locked onto its target.

The massive, terrifying head of the snake came crashing down toward Fleur with incredible force.

Boom!!

The marble floor beneath shattered from the impact—

Fleur barely managed to roll away in time, escaping the strike by a hair's breadth. The snake's colossal head missed her by mere inches, but the foul stench from its slit-like nostrils hit her full force, making her head spin.

"Hissss—"

The creature's cold, slimy tongue flicked out, brushing against Fleur's face as it quivered. The sensation sent a wave of goosebumps over her entire body.

Am I going to be eaten?

The thought consumed her, paralyzing her mind, while the serpent reared up again, its massive form pressing against the ceiling as it prepared for another strike.

This time, the air it displaced as it lunged carried a stinging chill, adding to the unbearable tension.

Fleur instinctively shut her eyes in terror, bracing for the inevitable. Yet, instead of the crushing final blow, she heard an unexpected, piercing sound echoing through the darkness:

Bang!

The air around her suddenly turned scorching hot.

Startled, Fleur opened her eyes, only to see the enormous serpent now entirely engulfed in flames.

The fire consumed it in an instant, reducing the once-mighty beast to a charred husk. As the serpent's body collapsed, the flames extinguished themselves, leaving only brittle blackened bones that crumbled to ash the moment they struck the ground.

Cassandra glanced over her shoulder, her expression unreadable.

From behind her, a tall and handsome man emerged.

His face radiated righteousness as he held a gun in one hand and a wand tightly in the other, both aimed squarely at Cassandra—it was Cedric.

"Let her go," Cedric said sternly, his gaze fixed on Cassandra, clearly on guard against any sudden move she might make. Even with the magical firearm in his hand, facing a witch like Cassandra offered little reassurance.

Though the enchanted bullets packed considerable power, Cedric knew his skill alone might not guarantee a hit on someone as quick as Cassandra.

"Hogwarts' champion?" Cassandra's expression shifted to one of mild surprise. "If I recall, your name is Cedric Diggory. Cyrus mentioned you specifically, said you had potential. But what are you doing here? This isn't your fight, is it?"

"It's not," Cedric admitted, his tone firm, "but I can't stand by and let you kill her." He paused, his expression unyielding. "Harry told me you're not a bad person, but..." He lifted his chin slightly. "Let her go."

Cassandra glanced at the weapon Cedric had trained on her, the dark, gaping barrel of the gun unwavering. For a moment, she ceased her attack.

She had experienced the power of enchanted bullets during the first trial, and the most powerful among them had been capable of breaking through even her strongest Shield Charm in an instant.

Facing both Cedric, armed with a magical firearm, and Fleur at the same time didn't guarantee victory. Besides, Fleur Delacour wasn't a Death Eater—there was no real reason to continue pressing her.

With a shrug, Cassandra raised her hands, signaling that she wouldn't attack further.

"Come here!" Cedric shouted.

It took Fleur a moment to react, but finally, she scrambled out of the black serpent's ashen remains, crawling and stumbling until she reached Cedric's side.

The two of them were about to leave when Cedric suddenly stopped in his tracks. He turned around, looked at Cassandra, and, after a moment of hesitation, extended an invitation.

"Miss Vole, why don't we work together?" Cedric suggested.

"Work together?"

Not only was Cassandra surprised, but Fleur also frowned, glaring at Cassandra with clear displeasure. The resistance in her expression left no doubt about how she felt.

After all, just minutes ago, this woman had nearly killed her.

"Our strength doesn't compare to that of the two headmasters or the Dark Wizard Grindelwald," Cedric explained. "That's why we should combine our forces."

It was evident that Cedric, unlike Cassandra, hadn't given up on the idea of winning, even in the face of their current situation.

"You're very skilled," Cedric continued, "but I know more about the Ministry of Magic than you do. We're on the second level of the Ministry. I suspect the treasure we're looking for might be on the final level."

"How interesting. You're from Hufflepuff, right?" Cassandra asked with a faint smirk.

"My whole family is Hufflepuff," Cedric said proudly.

Talking about his house, Cedric straightened his back with pride.

"I heard that Hufflepuff accepts students the other three houses don't want. They're not particularly clever, brave, or cunning, nor do they strive for glory. But you don't seem like that at all," Cassandra remarked, eyeing Cedric with a curious expression.

"You're mistaken," Cedric replied earnestly. "Hufflepuff welcomes wizards who are just and loyal."

While it was true that many average students ended up in Hufflepuff, leading to certain biases against the house, Hufflepuff didn't neglect other qualities.

After all, how could a person who was just and loyal not also be brave?

How could they not care about honor?

"Facing off against Headmaster Cyrus..." Cassandra tapped her delicate chin, her face showing a hint of temptation.

To be honest, the proposal was too enticing for her to ignore.

As someone who had a clear understanding of Cyrus's abilities, Cassandra knew she couldn't defeat him. She was also aware of his plan: the so-called Triwizard Tournament was nothing more than a stage for a duel with Dumbledore.

Still, Cyrus had his own agenda, and if she performed exceptionally, she would earn even greater recognition.

"Alright, let's give it a try," she finally agreed.

...

Meanwhile, on the other side of the labyrinth, Cyrus had already cleared four levels, moving from the third to the sixth.

After the Ministry of Magic's structure had been disrupted, no one could predict which floor they'd reach after opening a door. Cyrus made steady progress, encountering and overcoming challenges, including a Sphinx at the beginning, a variety of magical creatures, and numerous enchanted constructs.

Nothing could stop his advance—except one thing: Another legendary wizard!

Cyrus halted his steps in a room filled with fireplaces.

The space was silent, with numerous small baskets arranged neatly on the tables, each filled with different powders.

These were Floo Powders.

By examining them, Cyrus confirmed his current location: the Floo Network Authority on the sixth underground level of the Ministry of Magic.

However, these details were inconsequential compared to the presence of someone who had been following him for some time. Without turning around, Cyrus faced the row of fireplaces behind him and spoke:
"You've been tailing me for so long—finally lost your patience?"

No sooner had he finished speaking than one of the fireplaces behind him roared to life.

Green flames erupted, and within them, a shadowy figure began to take shape.

An old man with white hair and a trench coat emerged swiftly from the fire.

His steps were quick, and the flames lingered on the hem of his coat, trailing behind him like ghostly butterflies from the depths of hell.

It was Grindelwald.

Cyrus had expected this.

While he couldn't pinpoint why Grindelwald's hostility toward him had escalated so suddenly, he didn't particularly care.

He tightened his grip on the serpent-wood wand in his hand, as though seizing the greatest power in the world.

Now, two figures—both worthy of the title "Dark Lord"—stood facing each other across a broad table.

Both held their wands at the ready, and the air between them seemed to swirl with an invisible vortex, pulling the room into a tense stillness.

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12 Advance Chapters—