https://novelcool.info/chapter/Chapter-711-This-Is-How-It-Is-Magic-Puppet/13685940/
Chapter 710: Submit or Die?
Voldemort stared at Harry lying motionless on the ground, his expression flickering with a brief moment of surprise—almost as if he hadn’t expected the Killing Curse to strike so easily. The boy, his destined rival, had fallen.
But only for an instant.
Then his lips twisted, first into a nervous twitch, then a suppressed chuckle, before erupting into a wild, unhinged laughter.
“Hahaha… hahaha…!”
The Dark Lord threw his arms wide, his pale face alight with euphoria. “Do you see it? Harry Potter is dead in my hands! He is dead!”
The Death Eaters, swept up by their Master’s frenzy, burst into their own cacophonous laughter. They raised their wands, and green sparks exploded across the cathedral’s vaulted ceiling, painting the entire space in a sickly, glowing emerald hue.
Suddenly, Voldemort’s laughter cut off.
He looked down at the fallen boy, a cruel smirk spreading across his face.
“The Savior? The boy who survived? Hah… in the end, he’s just a pitiful corpse. I hope, when he meets the God of Death in Hell, he doesn’t fall for Dumbledore’s lies again!”
He raised his voice sharply, fixing his gaze on the Death Eater holding the badge.
“Do you see this, Dumbledore? Your golden boy—now just a dead dog on the ground! Cruciatus Curse!”
With a violent flick of his wand, a beam of light lashed toward the lifeless body.
Clang!
The sound of magic colliding with metal rang out, sharp and jarring. The spell recoiled—striking one of the gathered Death Eaters square in the chest.
“AAAAAHHHHHH—!”
The towering man collapsed instantly, writhing in agony, his body convulsing as if being torn apart from within.
Voldemort’s eyes narrowed, his smile frozen. All traces of amusement vanished, replaced by cold, calculating fury.
The spell had been blocked.
By a half-moon-shaped iron ring.
Click.
Another ring landed on the stone floor, the crisp metallic sound echoing through the silent hall.
Wade stepped down from his chair with effortless grace. Red marks still circled his wrists, but his movements remained fluid, unshaken.
He looked down at the boy on the ground.
Harry Potter.
The name hadn’t vanished.
The boy was still alive.
But whether he was trapped within that Soul Station, unconscious and unaware—Wade couldn’t tell.
“Stop!” The scarred man lunged forward, reaching for him. “How did you—”
The words died in his throat.
Wade raised a hand—casually—and the man, towering at nearly two meters, was flung backward like a sack of flour, powerless to resist.
Voldemort raised his wand.
“Boy,” he hissed, his voice like a serpent’s whisper. “You dare defy the Dark Lord? Do you wish to join him in death?”
The Death Eaters held their breath. They waited. A single Killing Curse would end this insolent child.
The boy stood beside the body, hands open. For a moment, he seemed utterly indifferent to Harry Potter—his childish face now creased with a look of innocent curiosity.
“I just wanted to ask,” he tilted his head, “about that Magic Puppet you mentioned earlier… What exactly is it?”
A flicker of hesitation crossed Voldemort’s face.
The Death Eaters fell silent.
“You have no right to question the Great Dark Lord, Wade Gray!” One of them stepped forward, shouting. “Stay silent where you are, or you’ll face a harsh punishment!”
Had they not seen the live broadcast of Voldemort’s painting—of the Dark Lord personally inviting Wade Gray into his ranks—this would have been the moment he was struck down by a Cruciatus Curse.
To dare interrupt the Dark Lord’s Champion… that man was already six feet under, his grave long overgrown.
“Exactly!” Another voice rasped. “Don’t overstep, boy. That you’re still alive is a mercy from our Master.”
Voldemort raised a hand.
The room fell instantly silent.
The Dark Lord looked at the small boy—shorter than his own thigh—and softened his tone.
“Magic Puppet… it is what you will one day offer me. A soldier who knows no pain, who fears no death. That is your value, your reason for living.”
He glanced at Harry Potter on the ground, and finally understood the boy’s hesitation.
“You pity this body?” he sneered. “Because he once tried to protect you?”
“If so, you’re mistaken.”
He took two steps forward.
“Harry Potter was merely a puppet—crafted and trained. Dumbledore’s lies blinded him. He truly believed he was the Savior… and dared to resist me?”
“But you must understand—his power against mine? It’s like the sun in the sky compared to a single firefly. He ran headfirst into me… and his only outcome was death.”
“But you’re different.”
Voldemort paused.
“You have talent. Intelligence. Join me, and you’ll wield power even more reliable than any Magic Puppet. And I—The Great Dark Lord—will place you at the pinnacle of power.”
Wade blinked.
“Join you? You mean… like them?” He pointed casually at the Death Eaters around him. “A nodding, bowing yes-man, scurrying behind your cloak? Do you even know what’s under that robe? Not even a pair of pants!”
He didn’t know why he said it. Perhaps it was the echo of some old internet meme from his past life—something he’d unconsciously picked up.
For a heartbeat, Voldemort’s face twisted.
A wave of pure, terrifying rage exploded from him.
The Death Eaters flinched as if struck. All bowed their heads, shrinking under the weight of his fury.
Yet even in their fear, someone couldn’t help but glance toward the Dark Lord’s cloak—just once—wondering, beneath the fabric, if he was truly… bare.
“I’ll ask you once more, boy,” Voldemort growled, grinding his teeth. “Kneel. Submit… or die.”
“Is that all?” Wade chuckled. “So this is how you recruit your subordinates? No wonder you’ve died so many times. I’d guess you’ve got precious few loyal followers left.”
“Cruciatus Curse! Cruciatus Curse! Cruciatus Curse!”
Voldemort didn’t wait. His wand swept through the air, unleashing three spells in rapid succession.
Boom!
The cathedral window shattered outward in a storm of glass. A dark-green leopard leapt through the broken frame, roaring as it pounced straight at Voldemort.
“AAAAAHHHHHH—!”
A scream tore through the chamber. A figure convulsed violently on the floor, tears and snot streaming down his face.
Wade blinked—unharmed.
A flicker of surprise crossed his face.
“Ah… so this is what a Magic Puppet looks like.”
His eyes crinkled into a warm, almost sweet smile.
(End of Chapter)
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