Chapter 878: Battle, Voldemort's Loss of Reason
Chapter 878: Battle, Voldemort's Loss of Reason
How many fake Kyles has it been... the seventh or the eighth?
Voldemort didn't keep count, or perhaps the rage clouding his mind had made him completely indifferent to such details.
It all began two hours ago.
On a hillside, he found a panicked Kyle and without hesitation, cast Avada Kedavra, ending his life swiftly and cleanly, just like the Muggles and Aurors who had died at his hands.
Voldemort was elated, even more so than when he had taken the Elder Wand from Dumbledore. As 'Kyle' lay on the ground, he felt a sense of returning to his childhood.
It was the first time he had taken someone who had mocked him to a seaside cave and tormented them with his unique methods of intimidation.
It was much later that he learned those methods were called magic.
But that didn't matter; the fear and despair on those Muggles' faces had given him an unprecedented sense of satisfaction and an urge to continue, as if his whole body was filled with an exhilarating power.
Years later, with time and changes, Voldemort couldn't believe he had found that rare emotion again.
He decided to take 'Kyle' with him, planning to throw him into Hogwarts, certain that Dumbledore's expression would be a sight to behold.
The thought made Voldemort chuckle.
In his good mood, he even forgave the Death Eaters who had failed him.
But soon after, he witnessed something shocking. The dead body of 'Kyle' suddenly contorted and transformed into another person within seconds.
As a former favorite student of Professor Slughorn, Voldemort instantly understood what had happened.
Polyjuice Potion...
Kyle had given the Death Eaters a Polyjuice Potion containing his hair, creating a decoy.
And Voldemort had fallen for it, even congratulating himself for his success.
Voldemort's eyes turned blood-red, and a chill spread through him.
He had been tricked again.
Why did he think of it as 'again'? Voldemort didn't know, but that was indeed his subconscious thought.
In a fit of rage, Voldemort went completely mad, transforming into a dark fog and racing through the mountains. Anyone in his path, be it Death Eaters, the Black Dragon, or 'Kyle', met the same fate—their lives reaped by the Killing Curse.
To ensure he wasn't fooled by such tricks again, Voldemort made a slight alteration to the Killing Curse, enabling it to 'kill' the Polyjuice Potion as well.
As a master of dark magic, this minor adjustment was effortless for Voldemort.
But this decision pushed him over the edge.
Every 'Kyle' he had encountered on his path was a fake, Death Eaters who had consumed the Polyjuice Potion.
In a sense, the number of Death Eaters he had personally killed was close to double digits.
If there were a leaderboard for killing Death Eaters in the Hebrides, Voldemort would be at the top, followed by a string of dragons.
The once mighty force of over fifty Death Eaters had been reduced to less than twenty through their joint efforts.
But Voldemort didn't care. Even when he encountered a 'Kyle' who clearly acted like a Death Eater, he showed no mercy, instantly casting the Killing Curse.
Voldemort wasn't sure if this was Kyle pretending to be a Death Eater, but he knew Kyle's capabilities well. If Kyle could disguise himself as a Death Eater to infiltrate their ranks, he could certainly maintain his appearance to pretend to be one.
So, Voldemort had only one thought now: if he couldn't distinguish the real from the fake, he would kill them all. By eliminating every Kyle, he would surely encounter the genuine one.
As for the Black Dragon and MacFusty... who cared? They could go to hell.
Voldemort extended his wand, and a bright flame shot from its tip, transforming into a giant snake.
Wherever the fire serpent passed, trees and hard stones alike were set ablaze.
Voldemort's patience had run out, and he decided to use Fiendfyre to force Kyle out, unconcerned about the potential harm to his Death Eaters.
Even if they were affected, Voldemort didn't care... it was just a small matter now.
The Fiendfyre spread at an astonishing speed, turning the night into day as the central mountains of the Hebrides glowed under the fire's radiance.
In the firelight, Voldemort spotted another Kyle and cast the Killing Curse without hesitation.
But this time, the target dodged the curse.
Although it was just a casual spell from Voldemort, not everyone could have dodged it.
"I've found you," Voldemort said, his narrow red eyes slitting.
He knew he had found the real Kyle this time.
The one killed by the Killing Curse was a Death Eater, and the one who dodged it was surely Kyle. This method of identification was ironic but effective.
Voldemort's guess was correct; it was indeed Kyle.
Kyle himself was surprised that Voldemort was so ruthless, not only showing no mercy to his own people but also willing to eliminate all his Death Eaters and even the entire mountain range to kill him.
To escape the encroaching Fiendfyre, Kyle had to reveal himself.
"So close, yet so far," Kyle sighed.
Kyle was almost at the shore, and with a few more decoys to distract Voldemort and a well-timed Disillusionment Charm to disguise himself as Crabbe or Goyle, he had a good chance of escaping into the sea!
But now, with Voldemort's desire to kill everyone for him, this plan was clearly useless.
Facing the hideous Voldemort and the raging Fiendfyre all around, Kyle felt a sense of despair.
This time, it seemed there was no escape.
He never imagined that Voldemort would care so much about him. The Dark Lord, who revered absolute power, had not only set up Anti-Apparition Charms to block his escape route but was also willing to sacrifice fifty Death Eaters.
Unless Dumbledore descended from the heavens, Kyle knew he had no chance of getting away.
Kyle looked up at the sky illuminated by the fire, not a single cloud in sight, let alone Dumbledore.
"Merlin's strawberry socks," Kyle muttered, closing his eyes.
Of course, he wasn't planning to surrender.
In the mountains, several hidden locations suddenly lit up, revealing faint magical runes.
These were Kyle's backup plans... well, sort of.
If it was just Fiendfyre, he didn't think he was any worse than Voldemort, but he needed some time.
Voldemort and Kyle simultaneously raised their wands.
The hard ground turned into a swamp, and as Voldemort's body swayed, the Killing Curse that should have hit its target changed direction and landed on the cliff to Kyle's left.
Almost simultaneously, Voldemort forcefully waved his hand, stabilizing his body and summoning a hurricane.
The hurricane, carrying stones and fallen leaves, formed a giant serpent with bared fangs in the air, roaring towards Kyle.
A silver glow appeared before Kyle, and the shield transformed into a door... the entrance to Hogwarts Castle.
The serpent collided with the door, shattering with a loud boom.
"How much longer can you last!"
Voldemort crossed his arms above his head.
A crack appeared in the ground beneath Kyle's feet, and if not for his quick reaction, he might have fallen. But it didn't end there; countless black daggers emerged from the crack, rushing towards Kyle.
Kyle pried a heavy stone slab from the nearby cliff and slammed it over the crack, sealing it and shattering the daggers.
Kyle panted heavily; casting such a wide-ranging Softening Charm and Cutting Charm had taken a toll on him.
Fortunately, his goal was achieved.
As Kyle fought, the magical runes he had placed in advance around the area fully illuminated.
It was as if someone had added fuel to the fire; the Fiendfyre, which was only a few feet high, soared to over a dozen feet in the blink of an eye.
Kyle raised his wand.
All the Fiendfyre began to contract, gathering around Kyle in an instant, like a scorching sun.
As the fire contracted, its color rapidly changed from red to pale yellow, with a hint of elusive gold.
For the first time, Voldemort's expression changed, and he gasped.
He never imagined that his Fiendfyre would be instantly appropriated by this wizard who wasn't even twenty years old.
"Avada Kedavra!"
Without hesitation, Voldemort cast the Killing Curse to finish off Kyle.
The Killing Curse collided with the 'sun,' exploding like a firework and being devoured by a few strands of golden flames.
Voldemort's breathing grew heavy, and he had a premonition that if he were hit by that fire, he would die.
But Voldemort didn't feel fear; he only wanted to laugh.
"Ha! The great Dumbledore has taught you well, young wizard of Fiendfyre!"
Voldemort raised his wand.
As he did, the stable 'sun' of Fiendfyre suddenly became agitated, and its shape began to subtly change.
Voldemort was fighting for control.
Fiendfyre was different from other Dark Magic; once this magical fire appeared, it would break free from the caster's control and become a unique life form.
This was why most wizards could only release Fiendfyre, not control it, unless they used more complex rune magic.
However, this wasn't a fixed rule.
Just as Kyle could appropriate Voldemort's Fiendfyre, Voldemort could also reclaim the 'Fiendfyre Sun' and master it himself.
It was now a contest of skill.
Meanwhile, at the heart of the Fiendfyre...
Kyle, his face pale, took out his box, released the Niffler, and then put the box and a piece of parchment into the Niffler's pouch.
"Hide, and deliver this to Newt."
The Niffler could squeeze through any narrow crack and disappear into the depths of the earth; even if Voldemort burned the entire mountain range, he wouldn't find it.
But this was only true for the Niffler.
Kyle hesitated, considering whether to hide in the box with the Niffler.
But this method might not work.
Magic traces couldn't be hidden.
Dumbledore once said that every time magic was used, traces would remain. That's how he could see Voldemort's magic traces on the seaside rocks where the Slytherin locket was hidden and trace the boat hidden in the lake.
This box, created with a Traceless Extension Charm, was a clear magical trace.
Like individual threads of varying colors, these magical lines could intertwine with others when outdoors, but if a Niffler were to burrow underground, it would effectively expose its location.
Given Voldemort's behavior, he would undoubtedly pursue the Niffler, and upon discovering its absence, it wouldn't take long to detect the solitary magical trail beneath the surface.
It was only a matter of time before he was found.
Kyle hesitated, debating whether to take this risk!
If the Niffler dug deep enough, and if Voldemort couldn't penetrate the underground or blow up the entire island, perhaps he could use this tactic to buy time for reinforcements.
The raging Fiendfyre that had erupted moments ago had undoubtedly attracted attention, perhaps even Dumbledore's. Every second gained was a chance for Kyle's survival.
But Kyle worried—Voldemort had other abilities.
The Dark Lord's repertoire wasn't limited to the Killing Curse; no one could guarantee what other dangerous dark magic experiments had granted him.
For instance, the black fog he demonstrated could infiltrate any minute crack like genuine mist.
If captured, Voldemort would logically acquire the box, including the giant snake within.
He had the power to awaken the snake.
That would be truly troublesome.
Kyle hesitated, battling Voldemort for control of the Fiendfyre as magic surged from their wands.
During this struggle, his face paled, and his consciousness began to blur.
The surrounding Fiendfyre started to dissipate, clearly Voldemort's doing.
Forget it, no more gambling.
Kyle clenched his teeth, making an instant decision.
He wanted to take a chance... these flames weren't just gathered to protect him.
What if he could kill Voldemort? Even if he couldn't, he could at least buy some escape time.
As long as Voldemort was injured, perhaps he could even gather all the black dragons here for one final stand.
It was a challenging prospect, but there was a chance.
Kyle held his wand with one hand and prepared to draw his Fire Arrow with the other, always ready to flee.
But as he reached into the Chameleon Skin Bag, a hard object rolled into his hand.
He was reaching for a Fire Arrow, what was this? Kyle looked at the object in his hand, a blue gem fragment. When did he...
Wait, a gem fragment? Kyle's heart skipped a beat. He remembered what this was.
Kyle quickly reached out, grabbing the Niffler by its half-burrowed body, and pulled it out by its tail.
"No need to hide anymore," Kyle said, breaking into a relieved smile.
He had forgotten about this item, perhaps due to the passage of time.
Kyle took a deep breath, peering at Voldemort through the cracks in the Fiendfyre.
"Since you want it, I'll give it to you."
Kyle raised his wand, and flames erupted from its tip, connecting with the surrounding Fiendfyre.
'The Sun' moved.
"Fire God's Path!"
Kyle abruptly pointed his wand at Voldemort, and in an instant, he felt his magic pouring forth like a tsunami.
But the effect was immediate.
He had never used Fire God's Path to this extent, not only with Fiendfyre, but with the accumulated flames of both him and Voldemort.
The raging flames resembled a tidal wave, raising waves nearly twenty meters high that crashed down with immense force.
The entire area fell silent, even the constantly roaring Hebsidiri Archipelago Black Dragon closed its mouth at this moment.
From above, the entire Hebsidiri Archipelago seemed divided in half by a golden flame.
Voldemort, the primary target of the flames, had sensed the danger and transformed into a dark fog, but half of his body was still burned to a crisp.
For the first time, he felt the threat of death from someone other than Dumbledore... that curse earlier could have killed him!
If not for his precognition, Voldemort glanced back, and Crabbe, who had just run by, was gone.
Gone, nothing remained, as if he had never existed.
At this moment, Voldemort's anger peaked.
He didn't seek revenge for Crabbe but refused to let another 'Dumbledore' live.
No, Dumbledore was over a hundred years old, but Kyle was not yet twenty, making him a greater threat.
Voldemort raised his intact hand, holding his wand.
But he saw Kyle laughing, even waving at him with difficulty.
Between his fingers, a blue glow flashed, and Kyle vanished from sight.
Along with Kyle, Voldemort's limited sanity also disappeared.
"How dare you..."
"Come back, I command you, come back!"
Voldemort frantically waved his wand, unleashing countless spells upon the mountain where Kyle had been. Rocks shattered, and the towering cliffs were almost flattened by various dark magic.
But what did it matter? Voldemort had to watch Kyle escape from his grasp once again.
(End of Chapter)
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