Spellcasting Gods

"Beauxbatons' representative is—Fleur Delacour!"

As Dumbledore's voice rang out again, a breathtakingly beautiful girl stood up, raised her chin high, and walked towards the next room with an elegant and proud demeanor.

Wherever she went, the boys couldn't help but widen their eyes, their breathing became rapid, and the air was filled with a strong scent of hormones.

Fortunately, this awkward situation only lasted for less than thirty seconds, otherwise it might have led to some embarrassing jokes.

After watching the girl with special bloodline leave, Dumbledore turned back and took out the third parchment from the Goblet of Fire.

Just as he lowered his head to read out the name, he suddenly froze, an expression of disbelief appearing on his aged face. After two or three minutes, he announced in a deep voice, "Representing Hogwarts in the Triwizard Tournament is—Ron Weasley!"

"What?!!!"

"My God! How is this possible!"

"The Weasleys' youngest son? What qualifications does he have to represent Hogwarts in the tournament?"

"That's right! This is absolutely the most absurd thing I've ever heard in my life!"

……

Immediately, every Hogwarts student couldn't help but protest loudly, even Ron's Gryffindor house was no exception.

After all, in everyone's mind, only two people are qualified to represent Hogwarts in the competition.

One is Draco Malfoy, who rose rapidly from the second grade to become the school's recognized dueling king;

The other is Harry Potter, the "savior" who strikes back after Draco and keeps close behind.

As for Ron himself, upon hearing these criticisms and insults, he neither tried to explain nor loudly refute them; he simply lowered his head and squeezed out of the crowd.

But through his tightly clenched fists, it was easy to see how angry he was inside, to the point that a pale yellow light would occasionally flash in his pupils, as if he wished he could transform immediately and shut up those bastards who were mocking him.

strength!

The boy had never longed for the power to crush everything before!

Only now did he finally realize how ridiculous his previous attempts to curry favor with Harry Potter had been. If he hadn't come to his senses, he would have remained a clown surrounded by the "savior" in the eyes of others.

Driven by intense jealousy, every cell in Ron's body began to absorb magical energy from the surrounding air and then release it violently.

boom!

After a violent airburst, the marble beneath his feet collapsed, shattering into countless fragments that scattered in all directions, silencing the students who had been denouncing him.

Shock!

Confuse!

puzzled!

Even the Weasley twins couldn't believe that their little brother could shatter a solid block of marble with magic without even needing a spell...

Chapter 0771 Escape

As one of the most powerful wizards still alive in the British wizarding world, Albus Dumbledore could not possibly fail to notice the changes in Ron, and subconsciously frowned.

However, before he could decide whether to stop them and say something, the Goblet of Fire changed color again and spewed out a charred parchment.

This bizarre phenomenon not only made him somewhat incredulous, but the other two principals and the noisy students below the stage were also dumbfounded, as if they had seen something impossible.

The Triwizard Tournament is called that because each of the three schools sends a representative to participate.

But now, after all three contestants have been selected, there is one more person.

For a moment, the entire hall fell silent as everyone waited for the principal to read out the names on the slips of paper.

Sensing the increasingly strange atmosphere, the old man quickly cleared his throat: "Ahem! I must admit this is a bit unexpected, but according to the magical contract of the Goblet of Fire, please invite the fourth contestant of the Triwizard Tournament—Harry Potter—to the waiting room."

"No! I protest! How can Hogwarts have two contestants? This is against the rules! It's unfair!"

No sooner had he finished speaking than Igor Karkaroff, the principal of Durmstrang School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, jumped up and shouted impatiently.

“That’s right! You must give a reasonable explanation, otherwise we have the right to boycott the match,” Olim Maxim echoed.

In any case, the Triwizard Tournament is a contest of reputation and status for each school. The winner has the right to declare itself the best magic school in all of Europe before the next competition. So, both the principal and the students are determined to bring back the glory of final victory.

The problem is that Hogwarts has suddenly gained two spots, doubling its chances of winning, especially with the renowned Harry Potter in the wizarding world at the time. How could this not cause a backlash?

“Excuse me, gentlemen, I don’t think this is the place to talk. Perhaps we should go to the back and figure out what happened.” Dumbledore glanced at the boy with a cold look in his eyes and offered a suggestion.

Since their complete falling out last semester, he had never spoken to Harry Potter in private again, knowing that the other's personality was drifting further and further away from his expectations.

"Okay! Let's go to the next room."

"Hopefully this won't be a farce."

Amid the murmurs and complaints of the headmasters, the adult wizards quickly left, leaving Zhang Cheng still sitting motionless in his seat, seemingly completely unconcerned about the matter.

But his indifference doesn't mean Harry is indifferent.

Taking advantage of the fact that no one was paying attention to him, the boy who had miraculously survived quickly stepped forward and asked in a low voice, "Teacher, I don't understand why Ron was chosen. Is there some kind of conspiracy behind it?"

"A conspiracy? No, my dear student, a conspiracy has been unfolding around you ever since the Quidditch World Cup final," Zhang Cheng replied meaningfully.

"Around me?" Harry paused for a few seconds, but quickly recovered. "You mean... Voldemort?"

“That’s right! Think about it, has anyone been particularly enthusiastic towards you lately, to the point that you feel something is amiss?” Zhang Cheng continued to subtly offer his hint.

"Professor Moody?! Is he one of Voldemort's men?" Harry exclaimed, his mouth agape in surprise.

Despite having many flaws in his personality, such as recklessness and stubbornness, it doesn't mean he's a fool; on the contrary, he's quite intelligent.

He was always manipulated and arranged by Dumbledore, which prevented him from using his intelligence and ultimately turned him into a disappointing fool.

Seeing the horrified expression on the other person's face, Zhang Cheng subtly hinted, "Remember, sometimes what you see isn't necessarily the truth, but a disguise. So be vigilant. This year will be a difficult start for you; you can treat it as a test in your life journey."

"Understood! Thank you for your guidance." Harry bowed deeply before walking through the door into the next room.

……

Meanwhile, Voldemort, hiding in his family's old mansion, was reclining in a chair, listening to his subordinates report on the latest developments of his plan.

More than ten minutes later, he shifted his body slightly and asked in a hoarse voice, like that of a snake, "So, Barty Crouch Jr. is confident he can get Harry Potter out of Dumbledore's sight?"

"Yes, Master! He swears that he will resurrect you in the most perfect form." The man, completely wrapped in a robe, replied without hesitation.

Hearing this answer, the Dark Lord nodded in satisfaction: "Very good! It seems he is more loyal than many of the Death Eaters I originally favored. On the day of our success, I will bestow upon him the highest honor. However, I still have a question: what is that mysterious Easterner doing right now?"

"According to Barty Crouch Jr., the other side doesn't seem to have made any noteworthy moves recently. Oh, by the way, he recently had a direct confrontation with Dumbledore in front of everyone, which might be good news for us."

"Oh? A conflict! Hahahaha! That old senile Dumbledore probably still doesn't realize what kind of people he's dealing with. But it's alright, I believe it won't be long before our dear ally delivers a big surprise. Alright, you can go now. Tell Barty Crouch Jr. to be careful and not to mess with that Easterner."

Having said that, Voldemort waved his baby-thin arm, signaling that his servants could leave.

The latter bowed respectfully, then quickly turned and left.

No sooner had he left than the Dark Lord couldn't help but sneer to himself, "My dear teacher Dumbledore, this time you've met your match. Watch closely, he will tear off your hypocritical mask layer by layer, exposing your hidden thirst for power and authority, and subject you to the contempt and scorn of the world, just like me. At that time, you will realize that you are no different from me, except that I bravely chose to embrace fate, while you fled from it..."

The words had barely left his mouth!

A bolt of lightning suddenly struck the dark sky outside!

next second...

The deafening thunder arrived as expected, followed by raindrops the size of soybeans pattering against the window, as if weeping for someone's future.

Voldemort stared silently at the dark sky, seemingly lost in thought.

No one knew what he was thinking, and no one dared to speculate on what decision he would make next...

Chapter 0772 The Evil Twins

Undoubtedly, cheating in a competition is a despicable act that undermines fairness by taking shortcuts, but if all the participants cheat, it is equivalent to no one cheating, and everyone is back to the starting line.

In fact, from the moment those ferocious fire dragons, resembling savage beasts, were transported to Hogwarts, the four students representing their respective schools in the competition already knew through different channels what they would be facing next.

As a scholar once said, when faced with sufficient benefits, so-called "morality" is utterly worthless.

What's even more interesting is that most people not only don't condemn those who stop at nothing for profit, but instead laugh at those who are willing to abandon profit and choose morality, considering them foolish and inflexible idiots, and even nailing them to the pillar of historical shame, making fun of them whenever they have nothing better to do.

Watching this farcical performance, Zhang Cheng had neither the interest to participate nor to expose Barty Crouch Jr.'s disguise, but instead turned his attention to studying the power of creation in depth.

After several live experiments, he had roughly grasped some of the patterns and was even able to control the degree of mutation within a certain range, briefly bringing inanimate objects to life and giving them some thought and consciousness.

Of course, this does not mean that we have reached the point where we can create life out of thin air; it is merely a simple simulation. Before unlocking the mysteries of the soul, creating a real life is extremely difficult.

Even the supreme authority, a divine artifact with independent thought, cannot be considered alive in the strict sense. Although it is more intelligent than most intelligent life forms, it lacks one of the most important things—a soul.

fortunately!

The idea of ​​tearing apart a soul to create a Horcrux offers a relatively simple approach: since creating a soul is so difficult, why not extract a ready-made soul from an intelligent being, then tear and fuse it to erase the original memories and consciousness, and then modify and restructure it according to one's own will to form a completely new soul?

To verify the feasibility of this idea, the laboratory hidden in the secret underground chamber of the castle was sealed off for two weeks, and extremely miserable screams echoed inside every day.

However, for Zhang Cheng, this little disturbance was nothing.

He coldly ignored the suffering of the test subjects, simply tearing their souls into countless pieces time and time again, then fusing them back together before the fragments dissipated.

After being repeated dozens or even hundreds of times, these originally conscious and healthy souls will lose themselves and turn into a silvery-white, semi-transparent liquid similar to spiritual matter.

Although it lost nearly a third of its quality, it was incredibly pure, completely free of the impurities found in a normal human soul. It was like a pristine white canvas, allowing the creator to freely paint the colors they desired.

"Perfect! This is exactly what I wanted..." Zhang Cheng, who hadn't slept for half a month, slightly curled the corners of his mouth, a satisfied expression appearing on his face.

However, this did not come without a price. The row of corpses fixed to the wall and emitting a faint stench of decay were the price paid for this cruel experiment.

Without any hesitation!

He directly injected these refined pure souls into a pre-prepared clone body, and then activated it with the power of creation.

In just a few seconds, the old man who looked exactly like Dumbledore slowly opened his eyes, looking around with a slightly curious gaze. After a full ten minutes, he finally opened his mouth and stammered, "Who...who am I? Where...where am I? And who are you?"

"Heh! Your name is Leon Dumbledore, the twin brother of the greatest wizard in the British wizarding world, and the stand-in for the headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. As for who I am and where this place is, none of that matters. What matters is that you are about to learn how to fight using magic." Zhang Cheng grinned, revealing a malicious smile.

That's right!

Create your own evil twin of Dumbledore!

He intends to use this guy to ruin Dumbledore's reputation. If he times it right, even if the guy has a thousand mouths, he won't be able to explain himself.

“Lyon Dumbledore?” The clone stared at his reflection in the mirror, then quickly nodded blankly. “Alright, I am Lyon Dumbledore, brother of the greatest wizard in British wizarding history, and the stand-in for the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry…”

“Excellent! My dear Mr. Dumbledore, I am about to instill some knowledge and memories into your brain. This process may be a little painful, so you'd better bear with it.” As he spoke, a faint silver light appeared in Zhang Cheng’s pupils, and then he raised his right hand and placed it on the other’s forehead.