I'm Going to... Kill Them and Crush Their Spirits!

Scotland Highlands

Located in northwestern Britain, it is sparsely populated and has a harsh environment.

This place features landscapes left over from the Ice Age, rugged mountains, and icy fields covered with boulders.

Voldemort walked barefoot across the vast snowfield, leaving behind clear footprints.

The location for the Dark Mark is at the Malfoy Manor, but the Dark Lord did not go there directly.

He took a slightly longer route to get here.

The reason is quite simple:

A strong magical fluctuation suddenly emanated from here.

Such fluctuations clearly indicate a battle is taking place, and only Grindelwald and Dumbledore could produce such an effect.

This was an unexpected delight.

Grindelwald hadn't told him the location of the battle beforehand.

They were probably afraid he would collect the heads.

Voldemort was surprised to find himself sensing magical energy halfway through his journey.

Since we've already run into each other, what's there to say?

No matter who attacks Dumbledore, Voldemort will always step in to help!

However, the best-case scenario is still a lose-lose situation.

Voldemort casually killed someone, stole the Elder Wand, and finally defeated Grindelwald, the decrepit first Dark Lord.

Backstabbing is something Voldemort was most adept at.

Despite his outward respect for Grindelwald, a senior figure, he secretly despises this loser.

If it weren't for Stark's rise to power, which presented unimaginable obstacles to his great cause, Voldemort would never have sought the old man's help.

How can a successful person associate with a loser?!

Following the devastated ground, Voldemort walked step by step toward the mountainside.

The signs of battle were quite obvious; halfway there, he even encountered a massive avalanche.

Voldemort cleared a path with magic, and snow poured down the mountainside like a torrent, then split off on either side of him.

After searching for about twenty minutes, Voldemort appeared on the mountaintop. Looking into the distance, he saw an old man sitting cross-legged on the ground, panting heavily.

Grindelwald jerked his head up and shouted, "What are you doing here?!"

Voldemort did not answer. He stopped five meters away from Grindelwald and asked instead:

Why are you all alone?

He didn't see Dumbledore, nor did he see Grindelwald's student.

"My students have gone after Dumbledore," Grindelwald said, taking a deep breath and standing up unsteadily.

"Dumbledore is seriously injured now. You'd better go and help him. You can definitely kill him."

Instead of wasting time with this old man.

Voldemort didn't move; instead, a strange smile appeared on his lips.

If Dumbledore were here, he would definitely kill that man first.

But he didn't see it; instead, Grindelwald...

Blood continued to seep from the face that was not covered by the robe.

The old man raised his elbow and wiped the bloodstains haphazardly, but before it could dry, fresh blood would start flowing out again.

Voldemort didn't know if Dumbledore was seriously injured, but the old man in front of him was definitely seriously injured and at his last gasp.

Let's give him a good beating first!

"Voldemort, we made a promise... Do you want to break it?!" Grindelwald demanded sharply.

"Dumbledore is our common enemy; he's not dead yet."

Voldemort chuckled for no apparent reason, "You're right, I'll go after him now..."

The old man seemed to catch his breath, but the next moment, he felt a gust of cold wind hit his face, and then he was knocked backward by the impact.

The magic surged and raged, carrying snowflakes that danced in the air.

When everything settled down, the first Dark Lord was seen with his back pressed against the rocks, Voldemort's hand gripping his neck, and his feet off the ground.

Grindelwald's wand was only halfway raised when it was flung away and fell into Voldemort's hands.

Voldemort gripped Grindelwald's neck with one hand, while gently toying with his wand in the other, as if caressing a stunningly beautiful woman.

He looked up at the frail old man, and in a hoarse voice laughed:

"As expected, you've been injured too many times; you've become this weak now."

I could kill you with one hand, like killing a chicken!

"Tell me now, is this the legendary Elder Wand, or I'll kill you!"

Grindelwald's thin body stirred, and he turned his skeletal face, staring at him with sunken eyes, before laughing.

"I knew it, you came for it, just as you were looking for Gregorovitch."

But your trip is pointless; you will never become the master of the Elder Wand...

"I'll kill you!"

Voldemort raised the Elder Wand, aimed it at Grindelwald's head, and a flash of green light appeared.

He released his grip, and the already dead Grindelwald collapsed to the ground, his body quickly buried by the wind and snow.

Voldemort closed his eyes, fired a Dark Mark into the sky, and gazed at it, lost in its beauty.

This wand is definitely more powerful than the yew wood one!

It's absolutely wonderful, it's definitely the Elder Wand!

It's more real than Grindelwald's death.

Voldemort believed it without a doubt.

"Hahahaha..." He suddenly burst into wild laughter, his face contorted in pain.

"I've got it! I've got the invincible magic wand! Who can stand against me now?"

Who else!

Voldemort stood atop the snow-capped mountain, gazing into the distance, his arms outstretched as if embracing the world.

It was as if, at this moment, the sky, the earth, the world... had all fallen into his hands.

He is the king of this world!

A true god among men!

Since he's a god, then slaughtering a few mortals tonight for entertainment wouldn't be a problem.

For example, Dumbledore, Stark, and... Potter.

Malfoy Manor.

Draco huddled on the sofa, staring blankly at Potter hanging in the living room.

His mother has been sent away and reunited with his father, and he is waiting for the Dark Lord.

They waited to hand Potter over to him, completing the task William had entrusted to them.

After summoning the Dark Lord using the Dark Mark, Malfoy bound Potter.

This is how you truly capture Potter.

However, Draco was confused; he didn't understand why William would hand Potter over to the Dark Lord.

Just minutes ago, Draco suddenly didn't want Potter to die anymore and wanted to let him go and run away with him... but Potter refused.

Did Harry not know that he... was going to die?

Why didn't you run away?!

Harry hung from the ceiling, but instead of pondering the question, he was surprisingly calm.

He even had the leisure to take a look at the living room's decor.

It would be a lie to say I'm not scared, but... after tonight, it will all be over.

No more pain from scars, no more living in fear...

Da da da da!

Footsteps sounded, and the newcomer made no attempt to conceal himself, swaggering out of the shadows.

Harry's forehead felt like it was about to explode; he stared intently at the man.

The two looked at each other.

Voldemort tilted his head slightly to one side, looked at Draco, and asked:

"You captured it?"

"Yes, Master." Draco stood up from the sofa, his pale, thin face beneath his light blond hair.

"I met Potter on the train and used the Imperius Curse to control him... When the army attacked Hogwarts, I took him with me and we escaped through a secret passage in the chaos."

The reasoning was impeccable, Voldemort smiled with satisfaction.

"Draco, well done. I will forgive the Malfoy family and give you unprecedented glory..."

Voldemort ignored Draco and stared at Harry, his lipless mouth twisting into a smug smile.

"Harry Potter," he said, his voice soft, like a hissing, flickering flame, "The Boy Who Lived."

"Dumbledore and William will come to save me..." Harry shouted.

"They're too late; all they can do is collect your body."

Voldemort knew all too well the saying, "Villains die from talking too much."

Back then, he talked too much nonsense, which gave that Mudblood Lily Evans time to cast her protective spell.

He'd learned his lesson; without hesitation, he raised the Elder Wand.

Harry stared into those red eyes, hoping that moment would come immediately, as soon as possible, before he could reveal his fear.

A flash of green light, and Harry felt the Killing Curse strike his chest, his whole body aching.

Finally, the pain subsided, and Harry's eyes were filled with light.

It was as if stars were falling from the sky.

Harry fell heavily to the ground, his pupils glazed over, lying alone on the floor.

Death... came.

To Draco's horror, something terrible happened: in that instant, not only Harry, but even the Dark Lord collapsed to the ground, as if he had been killed.

After an unknown amount of time, Malfoy crept over.

He was about to step past Voldemort to check if Harry was alive when the Dark Lord suddenly opened his eyes and gripped his arm tightly.

"Master... Master..." Draco was terrified.

"I'm fine." Voldemort's voice trembled as he tried to stand up.

"Master, let me—"

"I don't need help," Voldemort said coldly, as he rolled over and sat on the ground.

"That boy... is he dead?" Voldemort urged. "Go and see!"

Draco walked shakily toward Harry, and after a moment, he answered in a weak voice:

"Dead! Potter... is dead!"

Voldemort stood up, and in that instant, he felt himself transformed, different, his body brimming with confidence and power.

That ill-fated relationship from sixteen years ago has come to an end.

He proved his invincibility once again.

"Draco, you take Potter's body and come with me..."

"Where to... Master?"

"Hogwarts! I want to... kill him and destroy his spirit!!!"