The Eternal Bet 3 (Part 2)

Undoubtedly.

Even Dumbledore in his youth could not possibly have been this powerful.

"No! No! No! Don't come any closer! Stay away!" The Death Eater staggered back a step and barely managed to steady himself. All color had drained from his face, leaving only the pallor of despair and incredulous terror. He looked up at Ian, his eyes filled with the madness of a cornered beast and the deepest fear.

"Y-you... who exactly are you?!" His voice was hoarse and trembling, utterly stripped of its previous arrogance and coldness, leaving only a bluffing challenge. "Do you know what you're doing? You're interfering with the Dark Lord's affairs! Attacking his servants! He'll never let you get away with this!" He tried to invoke Voldemort's name—the greatest backing behind his unchecked rampage through the wizarding world, and the nightmare that made countless wizards tremble at the mere mention of it. Therefore.

The Death Eater, whose brain development was perhaps somewhat lacking, hoped that this name would inspire even the slightest bit of apprehension in his opponent.

How should one put it?

Ian naturally found it nothing but amusing.

"Tut, tut, tut. The Dark Lord will never let me go? Should I say I'm sooo scared?" Ian finally turned around to face the Death Eater directly. His gaze remained calm, like a bottomless, frigid pool that reflected not the slightest ripple. At the name "Voldemort," he did not even blink an extra time.

"Voldemort?" Ian's tone was flat, as though they were discussing the weather. "Never heard of him."

Those four lightly spoken words carried more impact than any mockery or contempt. In Britain's wizarding world in 1979, daring to speak the name of "He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named" aloud with such casualness—carrying even a hint of, "Who's that? Is he important?"—was itself the greatest provocation and