After the explosion from the collision of domain expansions, what followed was the purest brutality tearing through the fabric of reality. The sky changed completely in color, becoming a mix of darkness and redness. Black sparks like somber snow fell across the battlefield.
Within the domain expansion, Asterion and Voldemort faced each other. While Asterion maintained a calm expression, Voldemort stared back with a crazed and fearful look. He felt his domain expansion losing in the battle, not due to a difference in techniques, but because of the amount of magical energy used.
The opposing side had poured an incalculable amount of magical energy, and he had not done so.
In less than a blink of an eye, Voldemort's domain expansion shattered before his widened eyes. He saw it fragment like shards of glass passing before him, and before he could articulate any word, Asterion's expansion enveloped him.
Voldemort found himself in a pit of pure malevolence, where all the resentment, hatred, and rage of humanity converged in one place. Millions, billions, trillions of voices overlapped, creating an infernal angelic choir echoing in his mind.
His deepest fear was infinitely amplified, a sensory experience no human had ever witnessed. The avalanche of sensations flooding his brain was so overwhelming that he couldn't move or speak; only his eyes widened in indescribable horror.
A thick, black liquid akin to tar began to cover Voldemort's body, starting from his feet and slowly creeping up his legs. The liquid seemed to have a life of its own, pulling him down into a steaming, viscous sea.
As the black liquid enveloped him, Voldemort's expression became increasingly terrified. He raised his hand in a desperate plea for help, but it was futile. Only his head remained above the tar, his eyes reflecting the absolute terror of an inevitable fate.
When the domain expansion dissipated, Asterion observed the Dark Lord, who had terrorized England, kneeling on the ground, gazing silently and madly at the sky. Saliva dribbled from Voldemort's mouth as he could no longer express any emotion on his face.
Taking a step towards Voldemort, Asterion materialized a long black sword in his hand, adorned with several red eyes. The sword measured two meters in length and five centimeters in width.
Approaching the kneeling man, Asterion shifted the sword's position, holding it point-down, with the blade's tip just inches from Voldemort's eye. Asterion's red eyes gazed calmly and serenely at the man. Not at all relieved to have defeated Voldemort.
After all, if he hadn't managed to win even after awakening his second innate technique, Asterion might as well kill himself in shame.
The soldiers of the Clock Tower and the Death Eaters appeared on the battlefield as silence fell over the scene, everyone watching Voldemort kneeling before a thirteen-year-old boy, about to be killed by him.
The battlefield went completely quiet, interrupted only by the rapid breaths of all present.
"It's been a displeasure knowing you, Tom Marvolo Riddle," Asterion said coldly, devoid of any mockery or disdain, perhaps granting the minimum respect a monster like Voldemort might deserve at the end of his life.
Without hesitation, Asterion fortified his body with magical energy and swung down his sword with force.
The blade pierced Voldemort's right eye and continued downward, cutting through him from top to bottom.
The man, who had become deranged after Asterion's Domain Expansion, did not react even as the sword passed through his body. Until the end, his gaze remained fixed on the sky, as if imagining something that no one else would ever know.
A barrage of applause erupted from the Clock Tower soldiers. No one was happier than they were to see Voldemort finally dead, the same monster who had killed their loved ones and friends.
Asterion retrieved the sword from Voldemort's body, splattering blood on his face and clothes. Despite the applause, his face showed little emotion. His red eyes reflected a surprising calm.
Perhaps what he truly felt was boredom; even the satisfaction he thought he would feel upon killing Voldemort did not come, as if he had done something mundane.
Asterion's gaze focused on the lifeless body lost in thought.
Meanwhile, in the Death Eaters' camp, all Death Eaters fled without a second thought, abandoning the cause they had fought for. The witches and wizards from Germany and France who had been involved in the civil war also retreated after Voldemort's death.
Bellatrix was sitting in the main tent with a large snake in her hands.
Not far from her, lying on the ground, was the body of her ex-husband, Rodolphus Lestrange, the Patriarch of the House of Lestrange. His eyes had been gouged out and his tongue cut, numerous torture wounds covering his body.
Nagini's gaze in Bellatrix's arms at that moment was entirely different from the look the snake had before; this was a cold and somber gaze.
"Let's go, Bellatrix," a cold male voice came from the snake's mouth, which was utterly shocking. Each Horcrux had its own life, so what happened to Voldemort was not transferred to this Horcrux.
But Bellatrix didn't move a muscle despite the order from her apparent master; instead, she looked at the snake with a mixture of anger and disgust.
"You've ruined my master's plan," she said, continuing unabated by the snake's shocked gaze. "I was supposed to redeem myself in the eyes of the people and rise as a heroine who killed the dreaded Dark Lord. But none of that came to pass as my master intended, all because of you. But it doesn't matter anymore at this moment; my master will become a hero in the eyes of the people."
At that moment, Voldemort didn't need to hear any more; he knew Bellatrix was a traitor, and her betrayal came at a terrible time when he had no means to protect himself. Before Voldemort could say anything, he saw Bellatrix stand up and walk over to his diary, his other Horcrux!
With calm eyes, he watched her take a vial from her bag and carefully drop a drop onto the diary. He was confident in the durability of his Horcruxes; mere liquid wouldn't destroy them. But he couldn't maintain his calm demeanor as he saw the diary emit green smoke and a mournful scream echoed in the tent, accompanied by a face resembling Voldemort's own.
"IMPOSSIBLE!!!!!!"
"IMPOSSIBLE-"
Before he could finish his hysterical shout, he felt Nagini's body begin to stiffen; he knew what was happening. This Horcrux too had been poisoned by Bellatrix's strange liquid, and he was about to die. The most feared and powerful Dark Lord to ever set foot on the British Isles would die from mere poisoning.
"Basilisk venom," Bellatrix spoke, shaking the vial containing the poison. "My master gave it to me to destroy all your Horcruxes at the right moment."
Voldemort widened his eyes and realized that all his other Horcruxes would be in Asterion Black's hands! Even at the end of his life, he still couldn't understand how his Horcruxes were discovered, especially by Asterion Black.
Full of resentment and hatred, Voldemort's eyes closed for the last time.
The Dark Lord, Voldemort, was dead.
Hogwarts - Headmaster's Office.
Watching Rose writhing in bed, her face showing a pained expression, Dumbledore's face grew dark; he knew Tom was struggling to take over Rose's body through the Horcrux.
If Rose lost the battle and Voldemort won, Dumbledore couldn't imagine what Voldemort could do using Rose Potter's body.
Though the chance was minimal, Albus Dumbledore firmly held the Elder Wand, ready to end Rose's life the moment she showed signs of losing the battle.
Suddenly, Dumbledore noticed Rose's face relaxing, and the girl soon opened her eyes to his surprise. The most powerful man in the world hadn't noticed, but Rose's eyes seemed different, reflecting the universe itself. From the girl's body emerged green smoke that took on the face resembling Tom Riddle. This face roared reluctantly before disappearing completely.
"How are you, Rose?" Dumbledore discreetly stowed away his wand and asked with a concerned tone.
"Finally free and enlightened," Rose whispered, still looking directly at the ceiling, her pupils glimpsing the vastness of emptiness and a cold, boundless universe. A crazed smile outlining her lips.
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Author's thoughts: Voldemort was completely defeated, and at the end of the chapter, Rose achieves enlightenment, thus concluding the first arc of the fanfic. I hope you enjoyed it, as I'm preparing interesting things for the second year at Hogwarts. I sincerely appreciate all your support; each of you contributed to me continuing this fanfic, something I never imagined achieving.
Support me to write more and read chapters ahead of all regular readers!
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Next Chapter Second Volume: Chapter 99 – Decision (1), Chapter 100 – Decision (2), Chapter 101 – Decision (3), Chapter 102 - The Black Sisters (1), Chapter 103 - The Black Sisters (2), Chapter 104 - Rose's Past (1), Chapter 105 - Arrival of Country Representatives (1), Chapter 106 - Arrival of Country Representatives (2), Chapter 107 - Arrival of Country Representatives (3), Chapter 108 – Party (1), Chapter 109 – Party (2), Chapter 110 - Back To Hogwarts (1), Chapter 111 - Back To Hogwarts (2), Chapter 112 – New Students (1), Chapter 113 – New Students (2), Chapter 114 – Ophelia (1), Chapter 115 – Ophelia (2), Chapter 116 – Doubts (1), Chapter 117 – Humbug (1) .
Former Ministry of Magic, Now Clock Tower – Parliamentary Hall.
The Parliamentary Hall was an enormous room supported by gigantic Greek pillars, the ceiling divinely painted with a grand artwork depicting the creation of the origins of magic. The floor was so clean it could easily serve as a mirror.
In the center of the hall, there was an imposing black rectangular table with twenty-four seats, at least eighteen of which were occupied by witches and wizards. At the far end of the hall, elevated by numerous steps on a flat platform, there were twelve seats resembling thrones.
"This is an insult from those damn French!" Vincent Parkinson, Patriarch of House Parkinson, Lord of the Department of Creation, slammed his fist against the table and spoke with an extremely irritated tone.
He was not the only one who was extremely irritated. Whether Lord or Senator, regardless of who they were, they all displayed dark expressions.
The reason for the anger was obvious, a letter sent by the French delegation moments ago, which everyone present had read and were furious about.
"Why don't we return to the Hundred Years' War?" Bartemius Crouch proposed with a cold, deadly look. His proposal made at least four senators agree with the suggestion to go to war. If you looked closely, you would see that all four senators belonged to a faction – the same one he was part of.
"Do not let anger cloud your judgment, Your Excellency. We just came out of a civil war six months ago, we definitely don't want to enter another war at this moment, the people would be furious with the Clock Tower," Aurelius Greengrass, Patriarch of House Greengrass, Lord of the Department of Botany, spoke, calming everyone.
Yes, it had been six months since the civil war had ended and everything had returned to normal without many changes. The only change was that the Ministry of Magic had been successfully dissolved and the Clock Tower had risen as the supreme governing body in England.
In these six months, regardless of which faction you belonged to, everyone joined together to maintain order and heal the wounds of the civil war. Thus, in these six months that had passed, England had reached its peak with a cohesion rarely seen in centuries in this country.
"I apologize, Lord." Bartemius sat down in his chair, a bit disheartened, and responded in a slightly lower and tired voice. No one spoke against the old patriarch of House Crouch, everyone knew that the man had lost everything in the thirteen-year war, and even more in this civil war, where his only descendant, who was a Death Eater, was killed, leading to the near extinction of House Crouch.
"We all understand that you want to vent your anger, Your Excellency," Aurelius said in a calm tone, shifting his gaze to the others present. "How do you think we should respond to the letters from the French Ministry of Magic?"
Asterion, who had remained silent until then, finally spoke: "Let's accept the proposal."
Seated in the Lord of the Department of Curses seat, Asterion captured everyone's attention in the Parliamentary Hall.
"Everyone must be wondering why we should accept the French proposal," he said, remaining indifferent to the curious glances. "We must accept, and not only accept but also host the Triwizard Tournament in our country. We need to show our strength, despite the grudge we hold against the French wizards. Especially now, having just emerged from a civil war, people need a joyful event to completely dispel the shadow of war."
Asterion finished his speech and took a sip of tea, maintaining a calm and composed gaze over the parliamentary hall. Due to the low number of parliamentarians and lords, the three factions had fragmented, and power was decentralized and reorganized in a way that accommodated everyone.
The pure-blood faction transformed into the Aristocratic Faction and became the most powerful in Parliament, with five Lords: Black, Greengrass, Parkinson, Macmillan, and Malfoy. All were involved in some way with House Black.
The Neutral Faction, after House Greengrass left as the leader, weakened considerably, with only three Lords remaining in Parliament – Morgan, Foley, and Beck.
The Light Faction reorganized as the Democratic Faction, becoming the second most powerful in Parliament, with four Lords: Abbott, Ollivander, and two members of Muggle descent.
This alleviated the few remaining great noble houses after the civil war, where seven Great Noble Houses, which laid the foundations of British wizarding society, were officially considered extinct. Along with the Great Houses that became extinct in the war thirteen years ago, more than half of the Sacred Twenty-Eight disappeared in less than two decades.
It's worth noting that Lucius Malfoy was imprisoned in Azkaban after the war and succeeded by his eldest son, Draco Malfoy. However, due to his young age, the Lord seat of House Malfoy was under the regency of House Black until Draco was old enough to inherit the Lord seat in Parliament.
As for Asterion, almost fourteen years old, seated in the Lord's seat, no one present in that hall considered Asterion a child. Besides being a Special Grade Wizard, the boy had killed the most terrible Dark Lord who had set foot on this island.
After hearing Asterion's words, everyone remained silent. They knew that Lord Black was right, but the ingrained prejudice of the English against the French was not something easy to resolve, especially considering that France had sent elite wizards to join the Civil War on Voldemort's side.
This had made the relationship between the two nations even more tense than it already was, almost seeming as if the Hundred Years' War was on the horizon, about to explode at any moment. Someone just needed a match, and the gasoline would do the job of starting the conflict between the two nations.
Seeing everyone still silent, reluctant to accept the proposal, Asterion placed the teacup on the table and spoke again: "Instead of a Triwizard Tournament, why don't we change it? Let's create an International Magic Tournament, invite neighboring countries, and crush those pompous, arrogant, candy-addicted blondes in front of other nations."
Asterion's words caused everyone's faces to brighten. The idea of crushing the arrogant French fools in front of other nations was quite tempting for them.
After a brief silence, Asterion spoke again. "All in favor, raise your hand." Immediately after, the Black Heir raised his hand in support, followed by the entire Aristocratic Faction who stood behind their leader.
After a palpable hesitation in the air, the remaining four lords present raised their hands, expressing their support for the proposal. Ninety percent of the Senators also raised their hands, thus deciding in favor.
The first International Magic and Witchcraft Tournament would be held in England!
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Author's Note: This is the second volume of this fanfic, I hope you enjoyed it. Sorry for the short chapter, I'm working on the script and timeline for the upcoming chapters, which is taking longer than I had anticipated. However, there will be two chapters tomorrow.
This volume will focus on the conflicts between countries and the rise of Grindelwald's and Herpo's plan. Expect interesting things, dear readers. Sincerely – Prince.
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