Hogwarts: Oh no, I've become Voldemort!

His tone was very tolerant, like that of a teacher with plenty of patience who could tolerate children making mistakes.

At that moment, the flames burning in the secret vault changed color instantly. They were no longer as red as dragon fire, but turned into a ghostly blue.

Like endless bluebells in a wilderness, swaying like waves in the howling wind.

They seemed to come alive, voluntarily making way and revealing a flat open space. Cyrus stood there with a cold face, looking through the fire at the man whose name he couldn't even mention.

The two looked at each other, and Voldemort was immediately stunned.

He had almost forgotten how handsome he used to be.

After a moment, he slowly spoke:

“I have to say, dyeing the ends of your hair a little gold really suits you. If I had done that back then, it would have been much easier for me to get the gold cup and pendant.”

“I’m not going to talk to you about these old stories. Neither you nor I are the kind of people who like to dwell on the past, are we?” Cyrus was very calm at this moment.

He hadn't expected to encounter Voldemort here, but he felt no fear whatsoever.

A Voldemort in someone else's body is clearly not in his complete form.

Of course, Cyrus himself had only been resurrected for a short time, and his current magical level was far inferior to Voldemort's peak. Otherwise, he wouldn't have been so eager to pursue the power of ancient magic.

If a conflict were to break out with Voldemort at this moment, the outcome might be uncertain.

Moreover, his opponent was using a body that could be easily replaced, while his own body had only recently been resurrected. Cyrus had no reason to fight Voldemort to the death. Even if he won, there would be no benefit to it.

But if the other party takes the initiative to come to you, that's a different story.

"You're mistaken. In some ways, I'm quite particular about old things. For example, I want to know what happened to the diary I left behind back then?" Voldemort's face turned cold, and his voice became even more ruthless.

“A very interesting question,” Cyrus mimicked Voldemort’s tone.

This isn't difficult. Voldemort's essence is calm madness; calmness is merely a facade, while madness is his true nature.

The moment Cyrus appeared before Voldemort, he already knew what he was going to say.

He held the exquisite wand in his right hand, always on guard for any potential battle. However, outwardly, he merely gracefully waved it in front of him, as if displaying himself.

"Right in front of you!"

At this moment, it seemed as if even time itself had stopped.

For a long time, neither of them spoke or moved, frozen in place like wooden figures. Although neither of their wands were pointed at the other, the air was thick with tension.

Whether it's communication or combat, no one can be sure.

Cyrus was naturally apprehensive, for he was facing the most powerful dark wizard on par with Dumbledore. But he was not afraid.

Moreover, he soon realized that Voldemort, like him, was not so confident, and that the other party also had some concerns.

Whether Voldemort was worried about his current strength or unsure whether Cyrus still possessed the characteristics of a Horcrux and dared not act rashly, this was good news for Cyrus.

'Should I be able to take the initiative?' Cyrus couldn't help but think.

He doesn't like being led by the nose.

"I never expected you to dare show your face in front of me."

Having made up his mind, he immediately launched a verbal offensive. This tactic, known as the preemptive strike, aimed to confuse Voldemort.

Voldemort was indeed stunned.

"What do you mean?"

“What do you mean? You lost to a child, twice!” Cyrus looked at him coldly, as if Voldemort had humiliated him.

"Twelve years ago, on that night, the invincible Dark Lord lost to a one-year-old baby. How absurd, don't you think?" Cyrus asked softly. He kept his distance from Voldemort, and the two looked at each other from afar. He could see Voldemort's distorted face in the firelight.

"Have you been living like this ever since? You're a pathetic wretch."

“That’s fake!” Voldemort retorted angrily. “It has nothing to do with Harry Potter. I lost to Lily Potter’s ancient magic. If it weren’t for that magic, I wouldn’t be in this situation!”

“We all thought you were probably dead,” Cyrus continued, referring to the Horcruxes. “After that night, I couldn’t sense your presence, which is why I went to great lengths to resurrect you and continue our great work. Fortunately, Lucius was obedient enough.”

Cyrus's words were meant to exonerate Malfoy. After all, Malfoy's resurrection was thanks to Lucius's help, and he wasn't the kind of person who would betray someone after they've served their purpose.

“Lucius, ah, yes, he’s a fine servant,” Voldemort remarked.

Although the truly loyal Death Eaters are all in Azkaban, in reality, there are quite a few like Lucius who exonerate themselves. At least Lucius Malfoy did not escape punishment by betraying the identities of other Death Eaters like Karkaroff.

"But now, you see, I am not dead. I think you know better than anyone that no one has gone further on the path to immortality than us!" Voldemort could not help but feel proud and smug whenever he mentioned this.

He created an unprecedented number of Horcruxes so that he could make a comeback at any time.

Although the Horcrux in front of him seemed to be somewhat out of his control, he didn't think it was a big deal.

He believed that he was the one who understood him best, and that if he could join forces with him, he would no longer have to fear Dumbledore.

Then Voldemort's tone shifted, revealing a serpentine greed in his words:

"Things are different now, aren't they?"

“It’s definitely different now; you’re weaker than before,” Cyrus said sarcastically.

He mercilessly reopened Voldemort's wounds, causing Voldemort to feel a bloody humiliation.

“No, I mean, we can cooperate!” Voldemort’s snake eyes gleamed. “I must admit, neither of us is a match for Dumbledore, but what if the two of us join forces? There is no one in the world closer than us; we are one and the same!”

“Killing Dumbledore is a piece of cake. Not to mention we've now discovered ancient magic—”

Voldemort became more and more excited as he spoke, as if conquering Hogwarts and ruling all of Britain, Europe, and even the world was a piece of cake.

But Cyrus interrupted his passionate reverie.

“Us? Sorry, you’ve got it wrong, it’s me. And only me!” Cyrus said coldly.

The blue flames that stretched between the two seemed to draw a line between them.

Upon hearing this, Voldemort's expression turned cold, and a murderous intent flashed in his eyes, as if a blood-red river was flowing within them. He stared at Cyrus with his vertical pupils for several seconds before speaking in a deep voice:

"You dare to dream of replacing me?"

Cyrus could tell that if he showed even the slightest hint of such an intention, Voldemort would kill him without hesitation.

But he is not afraid now.

“Replace you? I have no interest in replacing a loser,” Cyrus said calmly. “However, I must remind you that many people have heard that you hid in the dark jungles of Albania after being defeated by that boy. Dumbledore happens to know about it.”

"I don't need your reminder. This was a message I deliberately released. I thought I could attract a few loyal servants to help me resurrect, but alas..."

Voldemort didn't dwell on the Death Eaters' loyalty, and continued, "Dumbledore did come to Albania to see me several times. He wanted to kill me completely, but he couldn't succeed! He simply couldn't do anything to me! As long as the Horcruxes aren't destroyed, I'm immortal!"

“But you are different. You were resurrected from a Horcrux, or you could even say you are the Horcrux itself. You can be destroyed,” Voldemort tempted. “Come, cross the flames and return to me. That way, you will no longer be threatened by death.”

"Really? Have you ever thought about why, after spending ten years in that stinking ditch without a single servant, a wizard who was about to become a Defense Against the Dark Arts professor happened to go to Albania in the same year that the boy was about to go to Hogwarts?"

"Have you ever wondered who told you that the Philosopher's Stone could resurrect you?"

"Have you ever wondered why news of my escape from Azkaban traveled such a long distance to reach Albania? Who wanted you to know this?"

"And who was it that sent this dark wizard before you to become your vessel?"

The more Cyrus spoke, the uglier Voldemort's expression became.

He is now beginning to realize a terrible truth—

Cyrus helped him tell him the truth he dared not face.

"It's Dumbledore!"

“You’re not entirely stupid. I thought making so many Horcruxes had clouded your judgment,” Cyrus scoffed. “He wanted to verify if the prophecy between the Dark Lord and that child was true, he wanted to see if Lily Potter’s magic was still effective. Now, he wants to see how the two Voldemors react when they meet, which is why you’re standing in front of me, understand?”

Cyrus's words suffocated Voldemort.

Voldemort lived in Dumbledore's shadow, the only person he feared.

Now, someone—who may very well be himself—tells him that everything he has is in Dumbledore's hands. Dumbledore lets him live, so he lives; Dumbledore makes him cower in Albania, so he can only survive by relying on filthy beasts.

Of course, he wasn't intimidated by Dumbledore.

Horcruxes are his source of confidence; as long as Dumbledore can't destroy all of his Horcruxes, he won't die.

As long as he doesn't die, he'll eventually outlive that old man.

Besides, now that Cyrus is involved, the two of them can easily join forces. If one of them can't beat Dumbledore, surely the two of them can?

“I think he must think we’re narrow-minded and can’t tolerate each other, and he hopes to see us kill each other.” Voldemort laughed. “But he’s wrong. I would never lay a hand on my own Horcrux.”

However, Cyrus did not laugh.

He suddenly realized a very serious problem.

After transmigrating, he did indeed merge with a small, fragmented piece of Voldemort's soul.

Perhaps he really is like Harry, a human form of Voldemort's Horcrux.

After Voldemort was defeated by the magic of love, his connection with his former Horcruxes was severed, so much so that Cyrus had never considered this issue before.

But now, he probably has to face it squarely.

He didn't want an extreme person like Voldemort to live, nor did he want to exchange his own death for Voldemort's.

“If that’s what he wants, then we can’t let him have his way!” Voldemort said seriously. “Besides, once we join forces, Dumbledore is no threat.”

Cyrus pulled himself out of his worries; there was no point in thinking too much now. The priority was to solve the immediate problem.

As for Voldemort's suggestion of joining forces, he had no hope. If the two of them could team up, couldn't Dumbledore find help? There was already a wizard in Nurmengard who had been living a life of celibacy for half a century!