Chapter 703
Resurrection
Chapter 703 Resurrection
“Wade Gray”.
The baby slowly turned his deformed head, his snake-like red eyes locking onto Wade, his cold voice carrying an eerie gentleness:
"Your puppet... has demonstrated astonishing fighting prowess in the competition. Pledge your allegiance to me, and I will allow you to stand on my left in the future..."
Little Barty looked at Wade with envy. Although his own position seemed more important, how many years had it taken him to climb to his current status? And what had this kid done?
Wade looked up, seemingly stunned by Voldemort's appearance, and asked in a daze, "Wh...what?"
Voldemort let out a sharp chuckle and slightly raised his arm: "You don't understand now... but that's alright. Watch closely, this is the power of your future master!"
"On the path of immortality, I have gone further than anyone else! As long as you pledge allegiance to me, I will bestow upon you the same glory!"
With a flick of his finger, Vader's small body was lifted by an invisible force and landed lightly on a bench prepared for church believers.
Immediately afterwards, the armrests of the chair twisted and deformed, turning into several curved iron rings that bound Wade's hands and feet, rendering him unable to move.
In the blink of an eye, countless thoughts raced through Vader's mind.
—A magic puppet? What magic puppet?
Is that what I will be able to do when I grow up?
But how did I end up in this situation?
They're not native to the wizarding world, so how could they not know that Barty Jr. tampered with the Triwizard Tournament trophy...
Speaking of which, what's Barty doing here? Shouldn't he be transformed into Moody, waiting at Hogwarts for his master's next order, before being captured by Dumbledore?
If I deliberately touched the trophy, took Cedric's place, and was transported to this place with Harry... if it was all part of my own plan...
So what exactly do I want to do?
—To take the opportunity to defect to Voldemort?
impossible!
If you want to become a Death Eater, you'll have a better chance in your first year... and what's the point of joining this noseless loser?
At the same time, Vader didn't think he could accept Voldemort's treatment of his subordinates, because he had heard that Death Eaters had to lick his toes to show their obedience and loyalty...
So, if it's not about seeking refuge... then we should think about it the other way around...
How would I plan this event when I'm older?
Some unfamiliar terms mentioned by the others flashed through Wade's mind—
Live TV broadcasts, communication peas, magic puppets...
And those things that don't exist in memory—
A green leopard, a strange golden water jug, a king cobra that replaced Nagini, a changed resurrection location, a mirror that Voldemort couldn't use to look at himself...
If all of this is a butterfly effect caused by him, the time traveler... then what exactly did he do to turn the world of Harry Potter into this state?
Fragmented images seemed to flash before his eyes, but they were shrouded in fog and remained blurry.
But Wade glanced at the mirror and suddenly had a vague realization.
……
Voldemort stopped paying attention to Vader, who had been left aside.
No matter how many amazing inventions this child will make when he grows up, even if he is as good as an army, he is just a five or six-year-old child at the moment, and is not worth the Dark Lord's too much effort.
He was too lazy to bother with Wade's brain.
In this state, Voldemort's magical power isn't actually that abundant. And what valuable things could a child of only a few years old possibly have in their mind? Probably only their parents, playmates, food, water, and toys.
The Dark Lord looked at Harry, his emotions actually surging even more than Barty's beside him.
But his intended audience has not yet arrived, and he is not in his best condition. He has been waiting far too long to prepare for a perfect resurrection.
So Voldemort didn't waste any words, he simply waved his arm and said, "Let's begin."
"Yes."
Barty immediately responded, waving his wand and sending a stone cauldron filled with liquid flying from the corner. As soon as it was placed, flames shot up from beneath the cauldron, and the liquid inside quickly boiled, sparking and billowing steam.
Voldemort let out a shrill laugh and urged, "Now! Quickly!" Barty the Younger respectfully picked up the infant Voldemort and placed him into the cauldron.
Harry let out a scream.
The baby sank to the bottom without a sound, as if melting into the pot.
Little Barty waved his wand and said, "Your father's bones, donated unintentionally, can give your son a second life."
A wisp of grayish-white bone meal flew out of the jar in the corner and landed in the crucible.
The liquid turned a vibrant blue, hissing and sparking.
"The flesh of your servant, given voluntarily, can bring your master back to life!"
Little Barty stretched out his left hand and, without hesitation, severed it off. Amidst the spurt of blood, the severed hand fell into the crucible.
He groaned in pain, but the smile on his face became even more distorted.
The potion turned fiery red again, bursting with intense light.
"The blood of your enemy, forced to be offered, can bring your enemy back to life!"
Harry struggled desperately, but the scarred man still lifted him up and hung him above the cauldron.
He thought he was going to be boiled alive, and immediately closed his eyes in despair, unable to make a sound.
Then, the boy felt a sharp pain in his arm—Little Barty had slashed his wrist with a dagger, and a stream of bright red blood flowed into the crucible.
The scarred man moved the bound boy aside, still holding him in his hand, his eyes fixed intently on the crucible in front of him.
The liquid turned a dazzling white, and an extremely bright and dazzling light instantly filled the entire church.
Wade instinctively let out a soft cry and closed his eyes.
For some reason, he subconsciously felt that this white light must be extremely hot and warm, and would turn all dark creatures into ashes.
However, it is not.
Although the sparks in the crucible sprayed out like fireworks, their light was cold, and even the thick white mist that rose was not hot and humid, but rather carried a chilling coolness, like the fog on a clear autumn or winter morning.
In the misty steam, a tall, thin, black figure slowly rose. He spread his arms, as if looking down at himself, and then flicked his fingers slightly.
A long black robe flew over and wrapped around him. He stepped out of the cauldron, and the mist quickly dissipated, finally revealing the man's features clearly.
He was as thin as a skeleton, his pale skin clung to his bones, his nose was flat like a snake, and his red eyes slowly scanned his surroundings.
When he opened his mouth, his voice was even colder and more piercing than before:
"I am back."
……
Despite having some suspicions, when they witnessed the scene firsthand, the entire stands fell into a deathly silence. Everyone stared wide-eyed at the man on the screen, as if they were all making a silent scream, and their faces instantly lost all color.
Then, deafening screams and commotion erupted in the stadium. Timid spectators ran out in droves, some even collapsing due to weak legs. Minister Fouché fainted, younger children cried in fear, and students froze in place as if struck by lightning.
As panic gripped the arena, Grindelwald remained seated, his long fingers tapping lightly on the armrest. Amid the screams and cries, he couldn't help but tilt his head back slightly and take a deep breath.
"What a nostalgic sound..."
He murmured, glancing up at the screen at the man who was overjoyed at his resurrection. A barely perceptible smile played on his lips, and his eyes held undisguised contempt.
“Look,” Grindelwald said with a smile, turning to the person beside him, “this is the Dark Lord.”
(End of this chapter)