I became Voldemort

Chapter 245: You’re a bit too extreme

Cyrus hadn't expected that, after all its fierce display, the Romanian Longhorn would just turn tail and run.

But for the creature itself, this was hardly surprising. Even a powerful dragon possesses sharp instincts, and Cyrus's overwhelming presence made it abandon any thoughts of resistance.

In the Romanian dragon sanctuaries, one had to sense danger early to survive among the dragons.

However... Cyrus hadn't gotten the clue for the next task.

"I didn't give you permission to leave just like that,"

Cyrus said, raising his wand toward the dragon's retreating silhouette in the sky.

A black chain shot out from the tip of his wand, clanking as it extended, snaking through the air like it had a mind of its own. It locked onto the dragon's throat, claws, and beating wings!

Cyrus immediately felt a tremendous force pulling against him, as though he had latched onto a speeding train!

With the dragon's strength, if anyone else had tried to restrain it from behind, the dragon might not have even noticed. Like a cloud hanging on a plane's wing, it would have flown off with ease, then shaken off the opponent.

But Cyrus's strength was beyond that of an ordinary wizard!

His feet seemed rooted in the scorched earth. Though his body beneath his wide wizard's robes wasn't particularly muscular, it held power rivaling the dragon's own!

He was like Antaeus from mythology, his feet planted on the ground, drawing endless strength from the earth.

The mighty dragon was like a pitiful kite, unable to break free!

Still, a dragon was a dragon. Even though Cyrus possessed the physique of a Thunderbird, he was at a disadvantage in pure strength, and his lighter weight made him the weaker party.

The Romanian Longhorn inched forward, dragging Cyrus with it, leaving a deep trench in the ground where his feet dug in.

But Cyrus remained unfazed. He clenched his wand tightly and yanked back with explosive force, electricity crackling as he released a burst of thunderous power.

Crack!

The air exploded as the dragon was jerked back like a kite string snapped taut. It crashed heavily to the ground, flattening a line of sturdy trees beneath its massive bones. The dragon reared its head, howling in agony, but the chains held it tight.

With strength that could snap steel and claws sharp enough to tear through metal, the dragon was helpless against Cyrus's conjured chains, bound tightly and unable to rise.

Out of respect for Newt, Cyrus refrained from dealing a fatal blow to the dragon. Otherwise, this would've been much simpler.

Though a dragon's hide could resist most spells, Cyrus wouldn't have needed a second move to kill it if he'd chosen to.

At this moment, over a thousand wizards were left speechless.

Though they'd had some measure of Cyrus's power after his sparring with Dumbledore, watching him pull a speeding dragon back with sheer physical strength had utterly astounded them.

What was the difference between this and an ant pulling back an airplane?

"Is he really a wizard? Or is he another dragon that learned spells and took on a wizard's form?"

This thought popped up in nearly everyone's mind at the same time.

If Harry could see this scene, he might remember that night when Voldemort, brimming with confidence, had rushed up to Cyrus only to have his arm shattered with a single twist.

But he was destined not to see it.

At this moment, Harry was struggling through the depths of the Forbidden Forest.

As the youngest contestant, he was under much greater pressure than the others. He didn't know how to Apparate, he was forced to clumsily tread on slippery leaves and moss-covered fallen trees.

He had ventured into the Forbidden Forest a few times before, but it was so vast, and the scenery looked almost identical everywhere.

The deepest he'd ever gone into the forest was in his second year, searching for spiders with Ron and Ginny—ehm—Cyrus.

Back then, they'd only ventured in for about half an hour, but now, he'd already crossed a charred, sunken area, where he spotted lifeless, desiccated spider corpses scattered across the ground.

They lay scattered, stretching their dried, lifeless legs in the charred soil, like twisted, withered thorns.

He knew he had ventured farther this time.

With each breath, Harry could feel his heart pounding heavily, a heightened sense of life brought on by fear and tension. His green eyes scanned the dim forest as he moved forward. He guessed the sun had fully risen by now, yet the deeper he went, the darker his surroundings became.

Switching his wand to his left hand, he clutched the magical firearm tightly in his right, his palm slick with sweat, as if the grip might steady his nerves.

The first thing Harry had done upon entering the forest was to follow Dumbledore's advice and summon the magical firearm back to himself.

Since being chosen as a champion and preparing for the tournament, he and Cedric had been training under Dumbledore's guidance.

Harry had asked Dumbledore to help him restock some alchemical bullets.

Not only had Dumbledore done so, but he'd also encouraged Harry to try making them himself. Harry hadn't mastered it yet, though Cedric occasionally managed to create one successfully.

Right now, Harry's priority was finding Cedric.

This challenge was beyond anything he'd anticipated, and without joining forces with Cedric, he doubted he'd complete it. As for other strategic insights, Harry hadn't even begun to consider them.

He hadn't signed up for this tournament himself, so there was no need to go all out.

However, finding Cedric in the Forbidden Forest was proving to be another challenge entirely.

Harry looked up at the sky, but his view was blocked by the dense, gray-green foliage above. With a sigh, he resigned himself to the situation.

He and Cedric had initially planned to send up sparks after entering the forest to locate each other. This method worked at first, but the farther they went, the less effective it became, with wand sparks unable to break through the thick canopy, leaving the sky completely obscured.

Now, Harry could only forge ahead, relying on his initial sense of direction. But the forest itself was a massive maze, and getting lost in it was all too easy.

He hadn't come across Cedric; instead, a rustling sound came from a nearby bush.

He immediately tensed. In this kind of environment, anything that emerged from those bushes—whether wizard or magical creature—was bound to be a threat!

Suddenly, a flash of gold darted out.

Harry's heart skipped a beat, his mind going blank, unable to think of any spells.

Instead, his right hand, already gripping his gun, instinctively shot forward, his finger pulling the trigger involuntarily.

Bang!

The enchanted bullet fired instantly.

The figure seemed startled as well, but she reacted quickly. The bullet didn't hit her; instead, it struck an invisible barrier. The spell was fully discharged—a powerful Disarming Charm, nearly shattering her Shield Charm.

"It's you, kid?!" Cassandra glared at Harry, visibly furious.

If it hadn't been for her quick response, she might've been hit by Harry's spell.

Or rather, she hadn't actually reacted in time; she'd just been cautious enough to cast a Shield Charm preemptively, which, by sheer luck, blocked the attack.

"You're... Miss Cassandra?" Harry recognized her now. Not that he could ever forget her strikingly beautiful face, even if he tried.

He let out a sigh of relief. Cassandra was one of Cyrus's followers, after all. Both of them bore the mark, so in this sense, they were allies, and he didn't need to worry about an attack.

However, Cassandra's attitude was less than friendly.

"Call me Voleur. We're not that close," she said icily.

"Alright, Miss Voleur." Harry didn't mind. In a place like this, running into someone he knew was a blessing. He offered a suggestion. "Miss Voleur, I think we could cooperate."

"I don't mind," Cassandra nodded.

Compared to the interschool rivalry, she was far more interested in the contest between Cyrus himself and those two who could be called Dark Lords—Dumbledore and Grindelwald.

Teaming up with Harry, Cassandra planned to eliminate her former classmates from Durmstrang first, then deal with the rest afterward.

"And Beauxbatons' wizards too. It'd be best if they're all knocked out in the first round!" Cassandra said furiously.

"But technically, Beauxbatons' champions can't be eliminated. No one can force them out," Harry reminded her in a low voice. Cassandra's intensity always made him feel a bit intimidated.

"By Merlin," Cassandra shot him a disdainful look and sneered, "Are you some goody-two-shoes? If everyone played by the rules, your name wouldn't have shown up in the Goblet of Fire."

Harry was left speechless.

But she had a point. Even before the tournament started, plenty had already been bending the rules.

The rules of the Goblet of Fire were as laughable as Hogwarts' own school rules.

"So what's your plan?" Harry asked.

"It's simple. The rules say they won't be eliminated, but nothing says they can't withdraw from the tournament~"

"I doubt they'd be willing to quit willingly."

"Heh! If they won't quit gracefully, we'll make them," Cassandra sneered, her beautiful face masking the malice in her words.

"Just beat them up so badly they can't continue. Besides, in a tournament like this, a death or two isn't exactly unheard of!"

Harry looked at her with a shiver. Who could have guessed that behind such a lovely face lay someone so ruthless?

He was terrified but decided to try to reason with her.

"Are you crazy? We can't kill people!"

"Cyrus told me the Beauxbatons champions were replaced. Aside from that half-Veela, the other two are Death Eaters," Cassandra scoffed, casting a sideways glance at him. "Do you have such pity for Death Eaters too?"

"A Death Eater's life is still a life… wait, Death Eaters?" Harry paused, seeming to recall what that meant, then quickly added, "How do you plan to kill them?!"

He looked almost eager, lifting his pistol. "What about this? This thing's way better than a wand!"

"I've got twelve magic rounds, six for each of them!"

He looked ready to empty the magazine. "What if I hit them with the Slug-Vomiting Charm and a laxative curse, then stun them for good measure?"

Cassandra: "???"

Cassandra's mind immediately filled with disturbingly revolting images.

"Ehm.. I think you're taking it a bit too far."

She hadn't expected this side of Harry; his past experiences had clearly started to shape him differently. After multiple kidnappings by Voldemort and the Cruciatus Curse inflicted by Pettigrew, he understood firsthand the cruelty of Death Eaters.

Harry might not kill, but teaching those vile people a lesson with some nasty spells? He had no objection!

"Anyway, let's figure out how to find them," Cassandra suggested. "Remember the order of departure? That half-Veela went first, then you and I. That means they're behind us."

"But our entry points into the Forbidden Forest were a little different, and they have a map, so they might've gone farther by now," Harry noted.

"They won't go too far—they're not supposed to be eliminated, remember? They'll be searching for clues to the second task," Cassandra reasoned. "We should also recruit more help; those two Death Eaters might be more than we can handle."

Though Cassandra was skilled in dark magic, she was no match for Death Eaters.

Voldemort's followers weren't all bumbling fools.

In fact, quite the opposite—the top Death Eaters were extraordinarily powerful, capable enough to serve as professors or even heads of houses at Hogwarts.

If they were weak, the Order members who fell during the war would have died in vain, which was unthinkable.

Their enemies were powerful and ruthless—that was reality.

What made the name "Voldemort" so terrifying wasn't actually Voldemort himself, but the Death Eaters. In that era, when wizards spoke his name, Death Eaters would inevitably follow.

"But I can't find Cedric, and he's really skilled!" Harry said, frustrated.

Cedric's talent was something Harry deeply admired. He was only in his sixth year, yet he excelled in every area and had the honorable demeanor of a knight.

Though Harry had never met Madam Hufflepuff herself, he felt that if there were an heir, Cedric would be the most fitting.

"Well, then, we'll just have to rely on luck. But I know how to locate those two Death Eaters," Cassandra said with a smirk. "Professor Cyrus taught me how to use the Dark Mark!"

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12 Advance Chapters—