He waved his wand.

December 27, 1992.

The alchemist Nicole Mailer fought against the French Dark Lord and died heroically. The next day France fell, and the Ministry of Magic hoisted the unicorn flag.

PS: Thanks for the blades and spicy strips of the juicer, and thanks to Xuanyuan Huayu for the blades

There is one more chapter tonight

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Section 408 Chapter 50 European Magic War

"Father's bone."

Quirrell threw the white human bone in his hand into the green medicinal soup.

"Servant's meat!"

He carefully glanced at the fleshy piece of Voldemort in Peter Pettigrew's arms, gritted his teeth, and ruthlessly cut off his severed palm with a dagger, plunged it into the medicinal soup, and quickly dissolved.

Quirrell groaned in pain, quickly stopped the bleeding for himself, and stepped back carefully.

Peter Pettigrew timidly stepped forward, picked up the meat Voldemort, and slowly sank into the green medicine soup.

He took out the sage's stone again, and while stirring the medicinal soup, he put this crimson, vitality-filled six-sided spar into the medicine vat, the vigorous vitality was liberated from the dissolved sage's stone, and then a The scarlet light pierced the dark sky.

Peter Pettigrew hurried back to Quirrell's side, full of unease.

"Mr Quirrell... Master should be fine, right?"

He was very worried.

The original black magic ritual requires the bones of the father, the flesh of the servant and the blood of the enemy to complete the true resurrection.

But before that, he must add enough vitality to make his soul complete.

Voldemort used the Sage's Stone as a medicinal guide, and with his profound knowledge of black magic, he modified the resurrection ceremony, locking the vitality of the Sage's Stone in the medicinal soup, and even skipped the blood of the enemy.

"We have to trust the master," Quirrell said.

The medicinal soup was bubbling hot, and the ceremony lasted for a full ten minutes.

A naked, hairless man, skinny as a mummy, slowly floated out. As soon as he stretched out his hand, his wand fell into his hand, and a dark robe appeared on his body.

"I'm finally resurrected!"

Voldemort (the demon) gently landed on the ground, sighing like a chant.

Feeling the condition of his body, he shook his head in dissatisfaction. Although he made the best preparations and suppressed the snake venom curse and mental imprint in the Sage's Stone to a minimum, he was still affected to a certain extent.

This influence makes him intimidated by Medusa coercion.

But compared to other Voldemorts, it is already much better.

Other Voldemorts are the real life and death in the hands of Medusa, if he wants to live or die, he will die.

"Master!" Quirrell and Peter stepped forward respectfully and happily, Voldemort glanced at the severed palm, and with a flick of his wand, Quirrell grew a metal palm.

Quirrell quickly bowed his knees in gratitude.

"Summon the Death Eaters." After Voldemort passed the joy of being resurrected, a sense of crisis came to his mind. He didn't know what was going on outside and what the other six Voldemorts had done.

Those Voldemorts were the same person as him, and Voldemort's expression became more and more solemn.

Peter Pettigrew and Quirrell raised their wands together and exploded their own magic.

A Dark Demon sign appeared in the sky.

Green skulls and misty snakes.

Lucius, who was far away in Malfoy Manor, only felt a burning pain in his arm. He saw the dark symbol glowing, and his panic dissipated immediately. stand up.

"He... Lord Dark Lord summoned me."

"Lord Voldemort did not abandon us!"

The manor was having a gathering of Death Eaters, and everyone had a look of happiness and joy on their faces. They quickly changed into black robes and used phantom migration to disappear into the manor castle.

In the empty hall.

The crumpled newspaper of the Daily Prophet was still placed on the dark-grey European-style log table.

"The French Ministry of Magic has fallen, where shall we go!" 》

"The German magic world was invaded by Death Eaters, the German Minister of Magic spoke, and will resist to the last soldier! 》

From title to text.

In a desperate tone, the editor announced that the end is near.

......

Gaunt's old house, the sky is gloomy.

Crack!

Dozens of phantom moving sounds appeared one after another. The Death Eaters in black robes hid their faces in their hoods and knelt down in front of Voldemort, their bodies trembling with excitement.

Voldemort continued to wait.

But he waited a long time, and there were only a dozen or so Death Eaters in front of him.

"Only you?" Voldemort walked over in disappointment, lifted Lucius' hood, and said softly, "Bellatrix is ​​still locked in Azkaban?"

Lucius was stunned. He raised his head and looked carefully at Voldemort.

"Bellatrix... Didn't you rescue him?"

Snapped.

Voldemort put his palm on Lucius' head, his voice could not contain anger, and he whispered, "Tell me clearly, Malfoy!"

"I think he made it very clear."

A cold, familiar voice appeared behind Voldemort.

crackle crackle crackle!

The shadow of the phantom movement landed on the ground, manifesting its figure.

At the head was the equally ugly, hairless fifty-two-year-old Voldemort, who was wearing a wizard's robe with a spider pattern, and behind him stood the Death Eaters rescued from Azkaban.

"Damn, you impostor!"

Voldemort turned around abruptly, and glared at the other self with a ferocious face.

The wand in his hand stabbed a red electric light, and it stabbed the fifty-two-year-old Voldemort with lightning speed, but it was offset by Bellatrix behind Voldemort.

"Bellatrix, I am your master!"

Voldemort himself looked coldly at him, who once loved and worshipped himself, and was also the most loyal Death Eater.

"No, my master will always be an adult by my side!" Bellatrix covered her mouth and laughed madly. She ignored Voldemort's increasingly angry eyes and looked at the fifty-two-year-old Voldemort with admiration.

Lucius, Quirrell, and Peter have been baffled by the unexpected situation.

Especially Lucius and the Death Eaters behind him are a group of people who follow the strong. If Voldemort is resurrected, they will follow, but there are two Voldemorts in front of them.

Which one should you follow?

However, they didn't know that they had been abandoned by other Voldemorts long ago, and only Voldemort himself was just resurrected, and he was willing to accept them without any influence.

"You said I was a fake?" Fifty-two-year-old Voldemort showed a cold and dangerous smile, and glanced at Lucius with disdain: "But they don't think so, whoever is stronger is the real Dark Lord. ."

A large number of magic power fluctuations came one after another.

More and more Dark Marks appeared in the sky.

The pure white unicorn, the violent wasp dragon, the dark eight-eyed giant spider, the strange and dangerous basilisk.

crackle crackle crackle!

The sound of the Apparitions became a dense music.

Lucius and other old Death Eaters approached Voldemort in fear, and new forces appeared around them. They were dressed in white robes and embroidered with unicorns. Eighteen-year-old Tom Riddle, with a body Twenty-year-old Tom Riddle in scarlet robes and tattooed with dangerous dragons.

Behind him was a group of violent vampires, a twenty-two-year-old Voldemort with bloodshot eyes and a cold smile on the corners of his mouth.

Voldemort himself is surrounded by four styles of Death Eaters at the center.

Gaunt's old house.

In the land of the Voldemort family, five Voldemorts gathered.

Feeling that the four are not weak at all, and even surpassed their own magic fluctuations, Voldemort's face became more and more gloomy. He looked at other age groups behind him, whether they were energetic, dangerous, or violent Death Eaters , and looked at the herbivorous Death Eater on the wall behind him.

There was a kind of depressed mood.

"It seems that you, the Dark Mark, have summoned a lot of people?" Fifty-two-year-old Voldemort restrained the sneer on his face, and pulled out his wand dignifiedly.

Twenty-two-year-old Voldemort, his eyes fixed on the central body.

"'I' is resurrected, of course I have to come and meet, what should I do if I don't see you in the future?" He showed a distorted smile at Voldemort, who was like a great enemy: "Why do you want to be resurrected, you have to come too? Join the game?"

"What game?" Voldemort asked in a low voice.

Eighteen-year-old Tom Riddle, elegant and generous, full of gentlemanly demeanor, wearing a pair of white gloves, symbolizing the purest holy beast, smiled and said: "A game about who is the real Voldemort, the Dark Lord."

Voldemort himself knew the rules of the game.

This is a game of killing each other.

He was as uncomfortable as eating shit. Not only did he have to be resurrected in a hurry and unprepared, but he also had to bring a bunch of waste to fight the once split soul to the death.

"The real Dark Lord is naturally the adult beside me!"

Behind twenty-year-old Riddle, Viktor Klum answered confidently and proudly.

As the base of the Death Eaters, Durmstrang School of Witchcraft and Wizardry is quite suitable. Tom did not put much effort into taking this school into his pocket.

"The Dark Lord by your side can't even win a German Ministry of Magic~"

Eighteen-year-old Tom's playful gaze fell on twenty-year-old Tom's face.

"It's just stubborn resistance!" Twenty-year-old Voldemort slowly stretched out his five fingers, and an orange flame appeared in his palm, but he was playing with it in his hand, and the flame reflected the dim light in his eyes.

"I am now the acting minister of the French Ministry of Magic." Eighteen-year-old Voldemort: "I can help the German Ministry of Magic to bring things right in the name of France. What should you do?"

Twenty-year-old Voldemort raised his head, with flames floating in his eyes.

He laughed.

"That's not good, you can kill it together!"

The Death Eaters of Beauxbatons pulled out their wands indifferently, and the Death Eaters of Durmstrang also pulled out their wands, and the two waves of forces were about to explode.

Voldemort himself, surrounded by it, watched every movement and listened to every conversation.

He was silent and calmly restrained his sense of existence. He only hoped that these people would be beaten to death so that his fisherman could benefit.

"Fight!"

Voldemort before the blood clan clapped his hands excitedly: "Why don't we just decide the outcome here?"

The Death Eater rescued by Azkaban also pulled out his wand, his eyes excited, and he just wanted to start killing.

However, Voldemort, who was twenty and eighteen years old, made his subordinates put away their hostility.

"cut."

Seeing that he couldn't fight, the twenty-two-year-old Voldemort sighed in disappointment.

"We are all the same person, although of different ages." Fifty-two-year-old Voldemort said in a low voice, "I can also guess why you came here."

"France is my territory." Eighteen-year-old Tom Riddle said calmly: "Blessed by Tony Lemay, I need time to suppress the rebels, and I can wait for you to be ready."

"It won't take long for Germany to master it!"

Twenty-year-old Tom Riddle's eyes were full of violence, and the dragon's blood was burning and boiling in his body. He lightly squeezed the flame in his hand.

"Hohoho, since you've all divided your territories, then I'll take it as hard as I can to accept Eastern Europe." The twenty-two-year-old Voldemort sighed with disappointment: "Compared to England, France and Germany, the Romanian Ministry of Magic is really a little more challenging. None?"

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