Harry Potter and the Great Old Ones

Chapter 690 Paying Homage
The faint black mists moved away from London at an unusually fast speed. Although they went in different directions, they eventually converged in a small village near the English Channel. As they approached the village, the black mists grew thicker and thicker. Soon, when the black mists arrived in front of a small, somewhat dilapidated mansion, they transformed into one man and two women, three wizards dressed in strange black robes.

"Who is it?" A timid voice came from the back door of the dilapidated mansion.

“It’s us, Wormtail.” The leading witch said indifferently in a very thick Yugoslavian accent, “Artoria Brandt, Radhojane Maddox, and Celestina Torres. We have completed the investigation of the task the Dark Lord assigned us.”

"Hand over the crystal ball, and you won't have to come through." Wormtail originally wanted to refuse their entry, but the next second he suddenly paused, because he directly felt a voice appear in his mind. Then Wormtail immediately opened the door and changed his words, "Please come in, three of you. The great Dark Lord is willing to receive your audience."

“Thank you very much for conveying this message, Mr. Wormtail.” — The leading witch

Artoria Brandt, impeccably dressed, answered politely in a very thick Yugoslavian accent.

After speaking, Artoria Brant, accompanied by the two wizards behind her, followed the Wormtail and slowly entered the dilapidated doorway.

Perhaps due to the Unseen Extension Charm, the interior of this dilapidated mansion was much larger than it appeared from the outside. None of the three wizards spoke after stepping into the mansion; they kept their heads slightly bowed and followed silently behind Wormtail.

After walking for about five or six minutes, they began to climb the downward steps.

After walking for about ten more minutes, they finally stepped onto the hard rocky ground. After passing through a narrow, dark stone corridor, they finally appeared in a huge cave that resembled an underground plaza.

It was pitch black all around them, and they couldn't see anything, but they could tell from the echoes of their footsteps that they were in a very large and extremely empty space.

"Welcome, warriors from faraway Eastern Europe." A young voice suddenly came from the darkness, and then three flames were suddenly lit, illuminating the huge cave.

The cave appeared to be entirely man-made; thanks to the sudden appearance of light, Artoria Brandt, Radjoane Maddox, and Celestina Torres were finally able to make out the general outline of the entire underground cavern—

The massive, raised cave ceiling has a perfect arc shape, as if it were a circle polished by the most skilled craftsman.

A boy of about sixteen or seventeen years old sat on a bronze throne slightly to the left of the center of the cave. He had jet-black hair, black eyes, a tall and slender build, and a pale face. He was very handsome. Above his head, a cluster of bluish-gray flames burned dimly in the empty rocky plaza.

A paler and older young man sat on a medium-sized silver throne, dressed in a simple black suit, dignified and refined, but occasionally a red light would flash in his eyes. Above the young man's head burned a cluster of bright silver flames, bright and dazzling, which provided most of the light in the cave.

And on the throne further to the right is the Dark Lord, as people imagine him—

It has bright, long, narrow scarlet eyes that appear even brighter in the dark.

His pupils were slits, like a cat's eyes. His body was tall and thin, like a skeleton, covered in what appeared to be scales. His skin was pale, seemingly emitting a pearly sheen. Similarly, as depicted on the wanted posters, he had no hair, no lips, two thin nostrils, and fingers like pale spider legs. He seemed to wear only a large, hooded cloak. He sat on a suspended throne, which appeared to be made entirely of gold. A flame still burned above his head, a golden flame the same color as the throne, obscured by the light of silver fire, quietly radiating a flowing light like molten gold.

According to information deliberately leaked and publicized by the British Magical Union, Artoria Brant, the leader of the three wizards, immediately recognized that this was Voldemort in his youth, his adulthood, and his current appearance after his resurrection.

“Great Dark Lord, we have completed your task. As you instructed, we have completed the reconnaissance work around the Ministry of Magic in London, and used the spells you taught us to detect divine creatures in the London area. Here are our reconnaissance results, please take a look.” The witch with a very thick Yugoslavian accent rattled off a long speech, then pulled out the crystal ball from her wizarding robes that should have been handed to Wormtail at the door.

Artoria Brandt stood there, holding the crystal ball in her hands, completely stunned.

Obviously, Artoria Brandt should have tried to give the crystal ball to Voldemort at this point, but the problem was...
The problem is that Voldemort, or rather Voldemort's youth, adulthood, and resurrected form, sits on three thrones that are suspended at least ten meters above the ground.

In such a situation, drawing one's wand to use levitation or flying up to hand the crystal ball to Voldemort would be extremely inappropriate.

“Hmm, great Dark Lord, these are the results of our investigation.” After thinking for a moment, Artoria Brandt had no choice but to bend over and carefully hold the crystal ball with both hands, then raise it above her head.

"Heh." One of Voldemort's—

Artoria Brandt deduced from the voice that it must be Voldemort in his youth or early adulthood.

The young Voldemort chuckled softly, then raised his hand towards the crystal ball.

The crystal ball, like a bubble released from the seabed, slowly floated up from Artoria Brandt's hand and landed in her palm.

“Very good,” Voldemort praised in a hoarse, snake-like voice from his golden throne.

Although it was meant as a compliment, it always sent chills down Artoria Brandt's spine.

"You have completed my task perfectly, and you deserve a reward," said Voldemort, seated on the central throne, the Silver Throne, in a refined manner.

“You’re too kind. It’s our honor to serve the greatest dark wizard in history.” The leader, Artoria Brant, bowed deeply, expressing her loyalty. “Helping us to destroy that foolish Tyella and restore the original order to our country’s wizarding society is the greatest favor you can bestow upon us.”

"Ah, yes, yes, Tyella," Voldemort suddenly muttered to himself on the golden throne, his words revealing a deep-seated hatred.

(End of this chapter)