I became Voldemort

Chapter 232: The Disappearance of Voldemort

Let the International Confederation of Wizards host the tournament?

Dumbledore paused for a moment, but quickly realized that Cyrus's proposal was quite reasonable.

His original plan for the Triwizard Tournament was to strengthen the ties between Durmstrang, Beauxbatons, and Hogwarts, ensuring that when Voldemort returned, the British magical community wouldn't be left isolated and without allies.

When Voldemort rampaged across Britain over a decade ago, the international community offered little help. This was partly due to Britain's previous stance of standing by during the global chaos caused by Grindelwald, resulting in eventual repercussions that came back to haunt them.

But who could have predicted that Voldemort, after being revived, would be defeated by Cyrus in less than a day?

Still, the planned tournament couldn't just be canceled.

In this context, with Cyrus suddenly proposing to join the competition as Ilvermorny's headmaster, Dumbledore couldn't help but wonder if there was something more to his intentions.

He had made a point to gather information about Cyrus's activities in North America and had even exchanged letters with Boot, the head of Ilvermorny's board.

In those letters, old Butte spoke highly of Cyrus, leading Dumbledore to believe that, unlike Voldemort, Cyrus wasn't likely to take an extremist path. This gave him some peace of mind.

After today's meeting with Cyrus, Dumbledore had an even clearer sense that Cyrus likely wanted to break the International Statute of Secrecy.

To be honest, Dumbledore didn't react to the idea of breaking the Statute with the same level of panic as some might. His opposition to Grindelwald was never just about breaking the Statute but rather about how Grindelwald's extreme methods had caused countless casualties in the process.

Moreover, Dumbledore's attitude towards Muggles was always subtle and difficult to decipher.

But Dumbledore knew well that if Grindelwald had succeeded in breaking the Statute of Secrecy, it would have brought disaster to the world, because the agenda of the "Wizard Supremacists" had originally been devised by Dumbledore himself—for Grindelwald.

At that time, Dumbledore, due to the tragedy in his family, harbored deep hatred for Muggles.

If it weren't for the Muggles, his sister wouldn't have become an Obscurial, his mother wouldn't have died so soon, and his father wouldn't have been imprisoned in Azkaban, where he eventually met a tragic end.

Back then, his heart was filled with hatred!

To be honest, expecting him not to resent Muggles was impossible. As long as he wasn't completely cold-hearted, he couldn't forgive the loss of his loved ones.

But later, especially after Grindelwald fled Godric's Hollow, Dumbledore underwent a profound change. He became quieter, more rational, and began to see the world with a different perspective. He asked himself, again and again: Are wizards inherently good, and Muggles inherently bad? If that were true, why did the person he loved most, Grindelwald, abandon him when he needed him the most?

Why had his sister died under the very spells they cast?

Eventually, Dumbledore realized that from the very beginning, arrogance, prejudice, and fear were the greatest enemies between wizards and Muggles.

Wizards looked down on Muggles, and that was their arrogance. And it wasn't just the pure-blood wizards who felt superior to Muggles; even wizards born to Muggle parents harbored the same arrogance. They thought of themselves as extraordinary, believing that mere Muggles could never stand on equal footing with them.

Arrogance gave rise to prejudice, leading wizards to believe that Muggles were utterly useless.

Grindelwald didn't see it that way.

He believed Muggles had their uses, but much like how a mule pulling a cart has its uses. Very few wizards regarded Muggles as equals.

Cyrus, of course, had his own arrogance.

However, in his view, there was nothing wrong with people taking pride in their natural gifts.

He had never let his power go to his head because he understood better than anyone just how powerful Muggle weapons could be.

As for Muggles, their main emotion toward wizards was fear.

They feared the unknown powers wizards wielded and felt envious of the talents they themselves lacked, which led to exclusion, bullying, and oppression.

Bridging that gap was no simple task. When two completely different worlds collided, the first result would inevitably be conflict and strife. For this reason, Dumbledore remained concerned, believing that neither wizards nor Muggles were prepared for such a change.

Perhaps he was right, but now fifty years had passed, and wizards hadn't made any progress. Rather than being unprepared, it would be more accurate to say they were complacent, lacking the courage to face a new world.

Since they remained stagnant, Cyrus didn't mind giving them a push from behind.

"Very well, then the referees will also be provided by the International Confederation of Wizards. I hope this inter-school competition proceeds smoothly," Cyrus concluded.

Afterward, the four of them discussed other details.

For example, Cyrus expressed his desire for the entire competition to be broadcast live; otherwise, it would lose much of its appeal for the audience. He also proposed that instead of individual champions, the competition should feature teams.

This was something that had never been done before in the Triwizard Tournament.

In the end, they all reached an agreement.

Now, all that remained was to wait a few months for the official start of the Quadwizard Tournament.

"Until then!" Dumbledore stood up from his seat, the obsidian ceiling above reflecting the image of his wizard robes.

Cyrus and the others also rose from their chairs and made their way outside.

At that moment, Dumbledore called out to Grindelwald.

"Ms. Vinda Rosier, might you have a few minutes to spare?"

"I'd be happy to," Grindelwald replied.

The two of them stayed behind.

Naturally, neither Cyrus nor Barty would be so tactless as to interrupt them, especially Barty Crouch Jr., who was eager to get back and prepare for the tournament.

He had no time to concern himself with Dumbledore's personal matters.

So, Cyrus and Barty walked out of the meeting room together, strolling side by side down the empty, dark corridor.

"You're really tall, Madam Maxime," Cyrus casually remarked.

Cyrus himself wasn't short—he stood nearly as tall as Dumbledore—but when standing next to Maxime, he only reached her chest.

"I'm just big-boned," Barty, disguised as Madam Maxime, replied with a slightly displeased expression, sounding awkward. After that, he didn't say another word.

Barty Crouch Jr.'s ability to deceive so many people came from his attention to detail.

When he transformed into someone, like Lupin, he would live exactly as Lupin would. Now, it was the same with Maxime.

He knew that her heritage was a sensitive subject, something Maxime was ashamed of. So, when Cyrus brought it up, he immediately showed a look of anger and abruptly ended the conversation.

For the remainder of their walk, they said nothing until they reached the end of the corridor, where two figures, one in black and one in white, appeared.

Bellatrix Lestrange, dressed in a black gown, stood with her curved wand pointed at a man.

The man was someone Cyrus knew all too well—Lucius Malfoy.

"What are you doing here, Lucius Malfoy?" Bellatrix's tone was icy, and the look she gave Lucius was far from friendly.

"I just have something to discuss with—my master," Lucius Malfoy pressed his dry, cracked lips tightly together, his face ashen. His hands clenched the gentleman's cane so hard they turned white.

He clearly wasn't doing well.

Although he didn't want to back down in front of Bellatrix, his lack of confidence was obvious. His usual arrogance was gone.

"Your master?" Bellatrix sneered, her voice dripping with contempt. "You're not talking about that noseless monster, are you? If so, you should be looking for him in a grave!"

"I mean Mr. Cyrus," Malfoy stiffly replied.

But Bellatrix violently flicked her wand at Lucius. The tip of the wand transformed into a whip, which lashed across his face, leaving a bloody gash.

"You think you're worthy of calling our master by name?" Bellatrix's voice was ice cold.

She bore a deep grudge against Lucius for not stepping through the flames and pledging his loyalty to Cyrus. She was furious about his lack of commitment. If she weren't working at the Ministry of Magic and with the Triwizard Tournament looming, Bellatrix wouldn't have wasted words on Lucius.

Even if she didn't kill him, he would not have escaped the agony of the Cruciatus Curse.

"You pathetic creature, a sneaky rat running in both directions!" Bellatrix spat venomously.

She was no saint. Although Cyrus had freed Bellatrix from the harmful effects of dark magic with ancient spells, her cruel nature had not changed.

Cyrus didn't need someone kind and gentle—he needed a blade that could kill.

However, this time, Bellatrix had misunderstood Lucius.

In fact, Lucius had remained with Voldemort under Cyrus's orders. What Cyrus hadn't expected was to see him here.

'Could this be Voldemort's doing?'

Cyrus wondered as he walked over to Lucius.

"No need to be so harsh on my friend, Bellatrix," Cyrus intervened, stopping Bellatrix from further tormenting Lucius. At the same time, he noticed Lucius avoiding his gaze.

No—

Cyrus discreetly shifted his eyes, glancing toward the disguised Maxime who had accompanied him.

'Lucius is wary of her,' he thought.

Suspicion arose in Cyrus's mind, but he didn't voice it. Instead, he warmly greeted Lucius, maintaining the facade of cordiality.

"How have you been, Lucius? Following that poor master of yours, I doubt you're living well," Cyrus teased, his face full of mockery. "Now that you've come to me, are you planning to betray him and pledge your loyalty to me again?"

"I was foolish before, my Lord..." Lucius's voice trembled as he lowered his head, seemingly terrified of Cyrus's wrath. "But now, I am determined to return to your side and serve you once more!"

His groveling display was clearly intended for Maxime's eyes.

Cyrus hadn't expected Lucius's acting skills to be so refined. It seemed that anyone who could stay close to Voldemort wasn't entirely without talent.

"You're a smart man, Lucius, but betrayal is shameful. How can I trust you not to betray me as well?" Cyrus asked softly.

"It was never betrayal, my Lord!" Lucius choked out, "I just followed the wrong person..."

"A convenient excuse," Cyrus sneered. Lucius's face immediately filled with fear, and even Barty Jr., standing nearby, showed a slight change in his expression.

His eyebrows furrowed, as though finding Cyrus's suspicion and wariness excessive and troublesome.

Barty had simply intended to plant a spy at Cyrus's side, much like Snape.

And his options were limited—Lucius, who had once helped resurrect Cyrus, was the most suitable choice.

Seeing that Cyrus was resistant, Barty had almost given up hope. But just then, Cyrus changed his tone.

"But I suppose I should give you a chance. You did help bring me back, didn't you? I don't mistreat those who've helped me, Lucius," Cyrus said, without even glancing at Barty, though he was watching Barty's every move intently.

"Thank you, my Lord..." Lucius whimpered like a weeping maiden.

At this moment, Barty, still in his Maxime disguise, showed a timely display of confusion. His large, elegant face, which resembled that of a statuesque figure, wore a puzzled expression.

"Sorry, I overheard you saying 'Lord'? Are you a noble, perhaps?" Barty asked in a high-pitched voice.

"Yes, sometimes they call me the Dark Lord," Cyrus smiled at him mockingly, "though I really don't like that title. You know, only the losers are called Dark Lords. The victor is always known as 'the greatest wizard.' But some fools don't get that and feel proud of it!"

After saying this, Cyrus let out a soft laugh and turned, leaving the room with Bellatrix and Lucius in tow, not looking back.

As soon as they exited the Ministry, Cyrus immediately performed Apparition and Side-Along Apparition, transporting Bellatrix and Lucius across half the world, directly to the front gate of Ilvermorny.

Upon landing, Lucius wobbled, clutching his stomach in discomfort. He hunched over, retching slightly.

Bellatrix, however, was accustomed to Cyrus's long-distance Apparition. After a few steps, her discomfort completely disappeared.

"Go on, tell me what happened."

Cough, "He wanted to place a spy by your side," Lucius answered, as Cyrus had expected.

Bellatrix, however, looked shocked.

From the conversation between Cyrus and Lucius, it was clear that Lucius wasn't a recent defector still earning trust. Quite the opposite—he had been serving Cyrus for a long time.

"Voldemort's orders?"

Lucius shook his head. "No, it was Barty Crouch Jr.'s orders. The Dark... the Dark Lord has disappeared."

"Disappeared?"

Cyrus raised an eyebrow. This caught him by surprise.

Voldemort was now just a soul fragment. If he wasn't staying with his loyal followers, where could he have gone?

"I don't know," Lucius shook his head. "I guess even Barty doesn't know. He just told us that during the Dark Lord's absence, we must follow all of his instructions."

"I think he must have some plan. Otherwise, he wouldn't continue pushing for the Triwizard Tournament in such a weakened state."

When Lucius said this, Bellatrix's face clearly showed concern.

But Cyrus didn't seem bothered.

"No need to worry. Even if he has a plan, so what?"

"I'm here!"

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12 Advance Chapters—