Chapter 607: Chapter 607: Purification! (Edited)
Voldemort's shield and Dumbledore's spell clashed with a gong-like sound.
Dumbledore's spell was repelled! Meanwhile, the shield conjured by Voldemort remained unscathed.
Voldemort's crimson eyes settled on the shield; he was extremely pleased with its defensive power. So, with a smug attitude, Voldemort said, "Do you have stronger spells? That wasn't strong enough; you wouldn't be trying to get me locked up in Azkaban, would you?"
Voldemort sensed a murderous intent in Dumbledore's spell.
Dumbledore had a completely different attitude toward Voldemort and Grindelwald, the two Dark Lords of different generations. After losing a duel, Grindelwald chose to be imprisoned in Nurmengard, but Dumbledore was willing to kill Voldemort.
This had nothing to do with personal relationships but was purely because Voldemort and Grindelwald were different people. Grindelwald had ambitions, ideals, so after his ideals crumbled, he chose exile and never left Nurmengard. He wouldn't try to escape like Voldemort.
But Voldemort was different. This selfish man had no ideals; his pure-blood motto was just a façade, bait for his followers. He only cared about himself, and all his actions were for his own benefit. Such a self-centered man, no matter how defeated, would only seek ways to recover. Against such a stubborn fanatic, Dumbledore could only choose to physically kill him.
Facing Voldemort's provocation, Dumbledore remained very calm. Or rather, he was so angry that he had become calm.
"You know, Riddle, there are many ways to destroy a person," Dumbledore said, narrowing his eyes as he gazed at Voldemort in the center of the field, with the sea breeze rustling his robe and causing his beard to flutter. "I must admit that simply taking your life wouldn't satisfy me."
Voldemort laughed hysterically.
"What could be more terrifying than death? Ah!" Voldemort shouted furiously as he waved his wand, this time waving it for a longer and more forceful duration.
He was performing an extremely complex spell, and the floor of Azkaban trembled slightly.
A spell with such a long preparation as this would not be possible for Voldemort without the shield he had in front of him.
Dumbledore's calm expression was broken for the first time today; it was the first time he had frowned. To Dumbledore, it wasn't difficult to realize what Voldemort was planning, but precisely because he understood what Voldemort was about to do, Dumbledore felt deeply angry.
"Manipulating the dead..." the wrinkles on Dumbledore's face deepened a bit as he held his wand high and cast spell after spell, each no less powerful than the spell that had recently been blocked by the shield. The spells struck the shield created by Voldemort, unable to penetrate his defense, but at the same time, the shield was rapidly weakening. Voldemort crouched behind the shield, gaining a few seconds to cast his own spell.
Finally, Voldemort's shield was shattered by Dumbledore, but at the same time, Voldemort's spell was also completed.
"Dumbledore, I'll show you the fear of death!" exclaimed Voldemort without concern for his shield being destroyed. He laughed hysterically as the ground beneath him cracked, and putrid or already bone-revealed arms emerged from the ground.
The centuries' worth of corpses accumulated in Azkaban became Voldemort's puppets at this moment. He would manipulate them to fight against Dumbledore.
"Each of them was a great wizard in life, but after death, they only turned into rotting flesh, toys in the hands of others. Isn't that terrifying?"
For Voldemort, death was the most fearful. Death meant that everything he had in life would turn to smoke, even his body could be defiled.
Looking down at the infernal scene below, Dumbledore shook his head. His face showed no emotional changes, but he raised his wand. A new spell was about to be cast, but at that moment, he felt a change.
A raindrop fell to the ground, and then the sky suddenly seemed to open up, unleashing a rainstorm.
This change drew Dumbledore's gaze to Tom's position. He knew that reinforcements were arriving. Voldemort didn't notice anything out of the ordinary. Instead, he became even more excited, believing that the rain would limit Dumbledore's fire magic – even the weather was on his side!
This rain was obviously summoned by Tom.
While Dumbledore and Voldemort were engaged in a duel, Tom didn't sit idly by. First, he found a safe place to hide and then took out a small package from his robes, which emitted a disproportionate sound for its size.
Tom reached into the package and pulled out his silver magic wand cane.
What place would be more suitable to cast weather spells than over the sea? He inserted the wand into the magic wand cane and then put all his power into it. Tom had to thank Dumbledore, as if it weren't for him, he wouldn't have had so much space to comfortably cast spells while Voldemort was distracted.
What better place to cast a weather spell than the sea?
"Atmospheric-nubilum!"
"Atmospheric-pluvia!"
Two atmospheric spells shot up one after the other into the sky, yielding unexpected results.
The air's humidity above the sea surface was much higher than on the plains, and with the presence of numerous Dementors in Azkaban, the sky was always covered with dark clouds.
Tom's atmospheric spells, Atmospheric Cloud and Atmospheric Rain, summoned a storm with minimal magic consumption.
After the rain fell, the ground of Azkaban was quickly soaked, and the bodies controlled by Voldemort emerged one after another, breaking through the soil.
"Tom Riddle, you have committed heinous crimes..." Dumbledore looked at the army of Inferi that nearly filled the entire space, showing a disgusted expression.
"What awaits you is purification." Dumbledore looked at the sky, knowing very well what was about to happen. However, considering the Yodel magic's habit of not distinguishing between friends and foes, he secretly prepared some defensive spells.
"Atmospheric-fulmen!" When the thickness of the clouds in the sky reached a certain point, Tom cast his final atmospheric spell into the sky.
In the next instant, the black clouds turned "white."
Voldemort, busy controlling his army of Inferi, raised his head with some confusion and then showed an expression of astonishment: Ah, I see!
Now he understood how this spell worked. But what he couldn't understand was who had cast this powerful atmospheric spell. Dumbledore was busy fighting him and didn't have the time or energy to cast such complicated and time-consuming spells.
He brought reinforcements! Voldemort immediately realized: Cunning Dumbledore!
Chapter 608: Chapter 608: Voldemort's New Horcrux (Edited)
Although Voldemort was eager to grab Dumbledore by the throat and scold him for his dishonest behavior of two against one and surprise attacks, it was already too late.
Lightning bolts fell from the sky like raindrops, turning the corpses summoned by Voldemort into charred remains.
The lightning crisscrossed in the air, nearly covering all of Azkaban. At this moment, what Tom summoned could no longer be simply called lightning; it was more like an electrical storm.
A few hundred meters outside Azkaban, the freshly expelled Dementors gathered again, hovering in the air. Although they were more than a hundred, they gave off a pitiful sense of having nowhere to go.
At this moment, there were wizards fighting in their home, and the aftermath of the battle instilled instinctive fear in them.
What kind of monsters were fighting there? If they wanted, either side could easily defeat them.
Voldemort, considered a monster by the Dementors, was in a lamentable situation. Watching the Inferi he had summoned with such effort turn into charcoal, Voldemort didn't have time to feel sorry. He was busy dodging the lightning bolts falling from the sky.
He first summoned a silver shield, but it was quickly shattered by the successive bolts. To make matters worse, not only were the bolts from the sky causing him problems, but Dumbledore was also taking the opportunity to press him.
Although both were facing the same lightning bolts, the pressure Dumbledore felt while being on the edge of the storm was much less. If the density of the bolts in Voldemort's location was "cloth," then the density in Dumbledore's location was "net." Dumbledore only needed to cast a protective spell to block the falling bolts. He even had time to cast some spells in Voldemort's direction.
Although Tom couldn't control every lightning bolt, he could guide them a bit and make them fall where he wanted. So, he was favoring one and being indulgent with the other.
The shield provided Voldemort with a few seconds of relief, and in that brief time, his brain worked at full speed. He finally found a very simple way to break the electrical storm: he just had to enter a cell!
The power of the lightning summoned by Tom was greater than that of cannonballs, but once they collided with a stone wall, their strength significantly weakened, leaving only small dents and dings in Azkaban's sturdy walls.
Seeing Voldemort rushing inside the prison, Dumbledore also disappeared into the place like a gust of wind. He also entered Azkaban.
Dumbledore closely pursued him, naturally concerned that Voldemort might use Apparition to escape.
Wizards of their level could even use Apparition in the midst of combat; fleeing would be just a thought. In the past, the overwhelming presence of the Dementors had prevented them from Apparating correctly. However, now that the Dementors were gone, the obstacles to using Apparition had also disappeared.
Dumbledore had already decided to kill Tom Riddle, but his reason told him that even if the effect of the Horcrux was removed from the equation, killing Riddle was nearly impossible.
If he couldn't fight, couldn't he flee?
But not killing him didn't mean his actions with Tom were in vain. Dumbledore had prepared a spell for his student, one he would remember forever. This spell would weaken Tom Riddle's abilities, determining the final outcome of the battle.
Voldemort entered the prison through a small window. Once inside, even someone as experienced as him was stunned.
The reason was simple: the style of this room did not fit Azkaban at all. It was pink with plates and dishes painted with cats everywhere. This room didn't even match the appearance of a young girl's room, let alone Azkaban.
Inside the room, there was a short and ugly witch holding a wand. Upon seeing Voldemort, she opened her eyes wide...
"Avada Kedavra."
A green bolt flashed, and the witch fell heavily to the ground, terror still on her face.
Voldemort didn't care whether that witch was going to scream or cast a spell; if someone threatened his safety, he wouldn't hesitate to kill them.
The person who was now a cold corpse was Umbridge, the Senior Undersecretary of the Ministry of Magic. When she woke up that morning, she immediately noticed the change in the outside atmosphere. Being quite astute, she decided to stay in her room and not go out.
"I'll wait until the conflict subsides before going out to see what's happening," she thought. But she had the misfortune of encountering Voldemort hiding from the lightning in her room.
Thus, smoothly and somewhat absurdly, she lost her life. She died without any pain, quickly and without problems.
Looking at the witch's body on the floor, an idea suddenly came to Voldemort's mind. He was well aware that today would probably be a complicated day for him and that perhaps the best option would be to escape using Apparition.
But Voldemort couldn't tolerate that.
He decided to take the risk, even if it meant leaving Dumbledore with just a few injuries!
Voldemort knew that the next spell he would cast required some time, so he raised his wand:
"Alohomora."
To the surprised looks of the prisoners, the prison cell doors swung wide open, and all the inmates gained a brief moment of freedom.
"Buy me some time," Voldemort showed a cruel look. To him, the lives of the prisoners meant nothing, even if many of them were his loyal followers.
Isn't it natural for servants to die for their master?
So many lives here, even if many of them die, he doesn't care. And Voldemort knew that Dumbledore wouldn't kill these people, after all, he was a conservative old man.
After finishing this, Voldemort grabbed Umbridge's corpse and entered the adjoining room, decorated in a disgusting pink.
Looking at Umbridge's body, an expression of irritation crossed Voldemort's face.
This was not how it was supposed to be!
How can this woman's body be suitable to be his Horcrux? For Voldemort's personality, Horcruxes required an extremely significant item: Ravenclaw's diadem, Gaunt's ring, Hufflepuff's cup, among others. But he often found himself forced to choose and split his precious fragment of soul into a common container.
A person's soul cannot be split infinitely. For Voldemort, seven was almost the limit, so he decided to split his soul seven times and make seven Horcruxes.
The woman's corpse in front of him would carry a part of his soul.
Voldemort had already made the necessary preparations to create the Horcrux, so a moment later, a new Horcrux was born.
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