Now that we've figured out what to do...
The answer is obvious.
Voldemort's Legendary Trait may be...
"You guessed it, didn't you?" Young Tom smiled and spoke, as if he could read Grindelwald's thoughts. "Yes, thanks to that gift from 'above,' my dear 'Subject,' the characteristic it gained upon breaking through to the Legend is ' Soul Projection.'" He took a step forward, his scarlet eyes flashing with pride and madness.
"All the Horcrux he created, all those deeply connected to his soul—whether a book, a snake, or some poor dictator—have the potential to be 'activated' and become his independent avatars with complete consciousness and power once he reaches the Legend level."
"We share memories with him, Magic Power with him, and a thirst for power, yet we each possess our own... freedom." He spread his hands to show himself.
It's like displaying a perfect work of art.
"And I am one of his earliest and most powerful Horcrux— a fragment of his soul sealed in his diary when he was sixteen. After that foolish girl opened the diary, revealing her soul and the secrets of Hogwarts to me, I was able to draw power and gradually take shape. And when the main body broke through to the Legend level, his vast, chaotic Magic Power acted like a key, unlocking the dormant 'seeds' of all the Horcrux. We... were all awakened."
Grindelwald's heart skipped a beat.
Are they all awake?
Does that mean there's more than one?!
As if in response to his guess, several figures flickered in the darkness behind Tom. Although they were not fully revealed, the faint Magic Power Fluctuation were enough to prove their presence.
"Of course, we are not entirely independent of the subject," Tom added, a hint of playful regret in his tone. "We still maintain a connection with him on a spiritual level. For example, right now, he can sense that I'm 'chatting' with you, although he can't break free for the time being— Professor Dumbledore's mental intrusion has indeed caused him a little trouble, but not for long."
He paused, his crimson eyes fixed on the two frozen figures not far away, his smile deepening.
"The main body asked me to tell you: Enjoy your 'game' with me. He'll come back to play with you after he's dealt with Dumbledore. Oh, and there's that other guy too." His gaze swept further away to the dark-haired young man still standing quietly in the same spot, a brief, casual hint of doubt flashing in his eyes before he looked away again.
"That unknown 'spectator.' Hopefully, he can hold on until then." This person was, of course, referring to Ian, who was no longer the Tom the Diary that Ian had trained.
The Timeline has changed too much.
Ian remained motionless. His face appeared unusually calm in the dim ruins, his deep, unfathomable eyes observing everything as if watching a drama that had nothing to do with him.
Grindelwald took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. He was facing a young version of the Dark Lord who possessed most of Voldemort's memories and Magic Power, yet existed independently!
Moreover, there may be even more clones lurking in the shadows! Dumbledore trapped in a mental battle, unsure when he will escape, and may even... be defeated. And he, an old man, his Magic Power sealed for many years, now relying only on a stolen, not entirely obedient wand, must fight against such an existence alone?
The chances of winning are slim.
But he had no other choice.
He gripped his wand tightly, and the wand, sensing its master's tension and pressure, trembled even more violently in its resistance. Grindelwald snorted coldly. He pressed down with even stronger willpower, temporarily subduing it.
"A fragmented, incomplete soul dares to challenge me?" Grindelwald spoke coldly, his voice carrying the defiant arrogance of the former Dark Lord. "I've lived for nearly a century, and witnessed far more darkness and madness than you can imagine. Kid, if you want to play, I'll play with you."
Upon hearing this, Tom was not angry at all; instead, he let out a soft chuckle, a chuckle that was exactly like Voldemort's signature raucous laugh.
"Interesting. No wonder he once made all of Europe Grindelwald." He gave a slight bow, the movement elegant yet provocative. "Then, please."
He raised his hand, and the chaotic Magic Power gathering at his fingertips began to spin and expand, forming a small, constantly twisting dark vortex. The air around the vortex began to crack, revealing brief, fleeting, irrational void fissures.
Grindelwald took a deep breath, held his wand horizontally across his chest, and began chanting an ancient and powerful defensive spell. He knew that against this strange power, any underestimation would be instantly fatal.
Just as the two were about to clash...
In the distance, between the two frozen figures, Voldemort's body trembled slightly. A light seemed to flicker deep within his crimson eyes. The battle in the mental realm seemed to be nearing its conclusion.
Further away, the black-haired young man, forgotten by everyone, finally turned his deep, pool-like eyes slightly and landed on the young " Tom ".
His gaze was calm as water, yet deep as an abyss.
No one noticed that, the instant his gaze fell upon him, the dark vortex around young Tom, who was gathering Magic Power in preparation for an attack on Grindelwald, paused for an extremely brief, almost imperceptible moment... It paused for only a fraction of a second, vanishing in an instant. Tom himself didn't even notice it.
But it did happen.
Then.
Everything has returned to normal.
The next moment.
The clash between Grindelwald and young Tom erupts on the edge of the night market ruins.
The purplish-black Fiendfyre collided with the dark, chaotic vortex, erupting in blinding light and deafening roar. Although Grindelwald was old and his Magic Power had been sealed for many years, his ingrained fighting instincts and profound understanding of Dark Magic allowed him to unleash terrifying attacks even with a wand that was not entirely obedient.
" Fiendfyre Wild Dance!"
With a wave of his wand, Fiendfyre transformed into several Fiendfyre Fire Serpent, lunging at Tom from different angles, attempting to bypass the eerie, chaotic barrier. However, Tom merely smiled, raised his hand, and casually drew a circle with his fingertips—the Fire Serpent abruptly stopped three feet away from his body, then, as if striking an invisible millstone, were twisted, torn apart, and vanished into nothingness.
"It's useless, Mr. Grindelwald." Tom's voice was soft and pleasant, his scarlet eyes gleaming with a cat-and- Rat playfulness. "The power of the Main Force far exceeds your imagination. And I, as its earliest and most perfect avatar, also share this... gift from Deep Space." He raised his other hand, and a constantly spinning dark vortex appeared in his palm. The vortex grew larger and larger, from which countless tiny, living black tentacles surged, spreading towards Grindelwald. Wherever the tentacles passed, the rubble, debris, and even the air itself were Silencio "swallowed," leaving behind empty, chilling voids.
Grindelwald's expression changed drastically. He quickly Apparition, narrowly escaping the reach of those eerie tentacles. He appeared ten feet away, slightly out of breath, his hand holding the wand trembling slightly.
"Spatial devouring..." he murmured, his voice filled with barely concealed shock, "This is... this is..."
"This is an extended application of the Legendary Trait." Tom smiled as he retracted the tentacles, like a child showing off a new toy. "The main body calls it the ' Void Domain.' Any matter, energy, or even magic touched by it will be 'returned' to the void. Of course, it can only be used on a small scale for now, but it should be enough to deal with you."
He took a step forward, and the tentacles spread out from beneath his feet once more, slowly but irresistibly expanding their reach.
Grindelwald gritted his teeth, his figure flashing once more as he dodged the spreading death. He tried every attack imaginable— Fiendfyre, Cutting Curse, Reductor Curse, even Summoning Charm —but all the magic vanished the moment it touched that " Void Domain," disappearing without a trace. He was in an unprecedented predicament.
Further beyond these ruins, the slaughter continued.
Tom's appearance temporarily drew the attention of some Death Eater, but after their Death Eater. They scattered, like wolves drawn by the scent of blood, rampaging through the ruins of the night market and its surroundings. "Hahaha! There Muggle still a few hiding over there!"
" Crucio! Scream! Scream loudly!"
" Avada Kedavra! One, two, three... That was exhilarating!"
Screams, maniacal laughter, and incantations mingled into a symphony of hell. Muggle scattered like frightened sheep across the once-familiar city, but no matter where they fled, they could not escape the black-robed, masked Death of death.
Just then
A deafening roar echoed through the sky.
Several blinding beams of searchlight pierced the night sky, illuminating the area shrouded in death. Everyone— Death Eater and surviving Muggle —looked up in unison.
Three British fighter planes are approaching in low-altitude formation!
The silver-gray fuselage, the air-to-ground missiles mounted under the wings, and the resolute face of the pilot in the cockpit all stood out strikingly against the magically distorted night sky.
"Oh my god... it's our army!"
"Fighter jets! Fighter jets are coming!"
The surviving Muggle cheered as if they had escaped death, some even waving their arms excitedly. They didn't understand magic, nor did they understand why these the Black Robed Woman were so powerful, but they believed in the giant steel birds, the pilots, and the technological advancements of human civilization that could save them. However, after a brief moment of astonishment, the Death Eater erupted in even more frenzied laughter.
"Fighter jets? Hahaha! These Muggle think those tin birds can save them?"
"Let them see what real power is!"
A tall Death Eater wearing a silver mask stepped forward, his wand pointing to the sky. Instead of casting an attack spell, he began chanting a long and complex Transfiguration Spell —a nearly forbidden spell mastered only by the most skilled Transfiguration masters. The moment the first missile, trailing a fiery exhaust, detached from the wing and hurtled towards the ground...
His incantation was complete.
" Transfiguration: Turning Steel into Stone!"
An invisible Magic Power Fluctuation erupted into the sky, precisely enveloping the missile! Before everyone's horrified eyes, the weapon, representing the pinnacle of modern technology, began to twist, Transfiguration, and fade in its metallic shell, ultimately... transforming into an ordinary, even moss-covered, rock! The missile, now stone, lost its power, tumbled and plummeted to the ground with a dull thud, then shattered into several pieces. There was no explosion, no fire, only a pile of harmless rubble.
From the sky, the pilots witnessed it all through the cockpit canopy, their eyes wide with disbelief.
"What... what is that?!"
"My God! The missile turned to stone!"
"That's impossible!"
But one "impossible" thing after another happened.
Another Death Eater, laughing maniacally, pointed at one of the fighter jets. "Your turn! Transfiguration! Steel Wings—Turn into a paper kite!" A Magic Power struck the fighter jet precisely as it circled and adjusted its attack posture. The silver-gray metal fuselage, at a visible speed, began to become transparent, fragile, and rippled... A few seconds later, an advanced fighter jet costing tens of millions of Pound Sterling and representing the pinnacle of human aviation technology had transformed in mid-air into a giant, paper-folded toy airplane!
The paper airplane lost all power and weight, floated lightly in the air and tumbled a few times, then was blown erratically by the night wind, and finally fell like a giant leaf, crashing into the ruins and instantly shattering into countless pieces of paper.
The pilot didn't even have time to parachute—or rather, when his cockpit, seat, and parachute were all turned to paper, he himself became the most vulnerable being.
The remaining two fighter pilots, gripped by extreme fear, instinctively pulled back on the stick and climbed, attempting to escape the demon-stricken airspace. "Retreat! Retreat! This is hell!"
"They are not human! They are devils!"
The radio was filled with terrified screams. But it was too late.
The third Death Eater —a small, fanatical woman—let out a shrill, grotesque laugh, pointed her wand at the sky, and cast a wide-area " Falling Spell."
"All of you, get down here!"
Two fighter jets, which were climbing, suddenly lost their engines and all their instruments failed simultaneously. Like steel corpses stripped of their souls, they plummeted straight down from a height of hundreds of meters! The pilots' desperate screams reached the command center via radio, only to be swallowed by a violent explosion—two fireballs rose on the distant horizon, illuminating the night sky.
On the ground, the surviving Muggle were completely devastated.
They knelt on the ground, some weeping bitterly, some murmuring prayers, and some who had completely lost their minds, staring blankly at the sky with empty eyes.
The fighter jets... the fighter jets all failed.
What else can save them?
And what else...? Somewhere in London, in an emergency meeting room of the National Security Council, there was a deathly silence.
On the enormous projection screen, infrared images transmitted from a high-altitude reconnaissance aircraft were playing—strange energy fluctuations, missiles and fighter jets that had seemingly vanished into thin air, and phenomena that defied any scientific explanation. The Prime Minister's face was ashen, his hands gripping the table, his eyes fixed intently on the screen.
As the head of state.
He knew, of course, that they were Wizard.
He simply hadn't realized before how powerful Wizard could be!