Ancient Wizards Return to Hogwarts...

Chapter 409 Rice: Mass Dispel

Voldemort was secretly surprised, but he didn't show it on his face.

His gaze swept over Polaris, who had suddenly appeared behind him, before he said in a cold, hard tone, "Even at this point, you still haven't shown your true colors? How are we supposed to cooperate?"

Polaris chuckled softly, completely ignoring Voldemort's words. He gazed at the arena in the distance and said with a hint of excitement, "What a magnificent stage, isn't it?"

A surge of anger rose within Voldemort: he hadn't encountered anyone in a long time who dared to ignore him like this. Not even Dumbledore back in the day!

He was no longer the person he once was; he was stronger than ever before. To put it bluntly, he had mastered the power of death, and could even call himself the Grim Reaper without any problem. How could anyone dare to ignore such a powerful figure as Voldemort?

Voldemort secretly began to gather his newly acquired power, intending to teach his good ally a lesson and make him understand that Lord Voldemort and the Secret Order were allies of equal status, not servile followers!

Of course, if this Polaris cannot demonstrate abilities comparable to his, Voldemort wouldn't mind renaming the Secret Order the Death Eaters.

Polaris sensed something amiss with his suspicious ally, but he did nothing, only glancing at Voldemort.

Then, something terrifying happened to Voldemort: the death power he had just summoned vanished instantly.

"Power itself is not scary; what's scary is its master. Tom, you're still far from fully mastering this power," Polaris said calmly.

Just as the intelligence reported by his subordinates indicated, his newly acquired ally was not quite right in the head.

He did become stronger, but he never thought about the source of his power or who had bestowed such great strength upon him.

Voldemort's initial shock was quickly replaced by boundless rage, but given Polaris's actions, Voldemort dared not show his anger and could only bury it deep within his heart.

After taking two deep breaths, Voldemort composed himself and replied in a calm tone, "You're right. I do need time to integrate with this power after my resurrection. Tonight is a golden opportunity."

Polaris did not respond immediately.

After waiting a few seconds, he glanced at Voldemort with a half-smile and told him that he could do whatever he wanted tonight.

"How could those idiots at the British Ministry of Magic possibly be a match for you?"

Upon hearing Polaris's comment, Voldemort laughed as well.

Yes, he never considered those idiots in the Ministry of Magic as his enemies; he had only one enemy, and that was Albus Dumbledore.

Polaris was also smiling very happily.

Voldemort was merely bait on the hook; he intended to use Voldemort as bait to lure out the big fish lurking beneath the water.

The recent events in the wizarding world made him feel uneasy. He wondered if his old friends were truly dead. The wizarding world was declining and fading away, but he wasn't sure if any wizards still controlled Asgard—at least some powerful Asgardians remained at Hogwarts. These were all stumbling blocks on his path, variables in his plans.

Let Voldemort test the waters.

If the mysterious powerful figure chooses not to show himself, then he will use Voldemort to inflict maximum damage on the wizards who have come to watch the match.

He didn't believe that the best wizards wouldn't be lured out. After all, even the pure-blood wizards themselves had said that "every drop of wizard's blood is precious," which was an open conspiracy.

As for Voldemort, who was playing the role of bait, whether he survives depends on his luck.

How many people came today?

"It's said there are 100,000." Aries interjected promptly, raising his own profile a little.

Polaris clicked his tongue and looked at Voldemort, indicating that this was a big stage and he had to perform well and not embarrass the power of death.

Voldemort nodded, his face full of confidence.

He wanted all the wizards in the world to know that he, Lord Voldemort, had returned. He wanted everyone to submit to him, and he wanted those traitors who had betrayed him to kneel at his feet and tremble in fear.

Just as the two were chatting amiably, footsteps echoed through the woods. Voldemort immediately stopped smiling and, along with Aries and Taurus, turned to look at the source of the sound. Polaris, however, seemed oblivious, not even bothering to turn her head.

A puppet emerged from the forest and immediately fixed its gaze on the four people.

These are dolls urgently purchased by the Ministry of Magic to maintain order at the arena. The service modules have been completely removed, and only the most basic parts of the other modules have been retained. However, the patrol and perception modules have been greatly enhanced, and they are designed to deal with people with ulterior motives.

[Please show your tickets] Voldemort and his group were so suspicious that the puppet's defense mechanism was immediately triggered.

"Did you buy tickets?" Polaris asked.

Aries, Voldemort: ...

Polaris sighed: These people are just too good at ruining things.

Seeing that the four people had no intention of handing over the tickets, the doll raised its alert level and began to take coercive measures against them.

However, just before the situation escalated further, flames suddenly spewed from the joints of the doll, turning it into a large fireball in the blink of an eye.

"Your preparations were so sloppy. Do you think the organization would shortchange you on three tickets?" Polaris scolded Aries and Taurus in a reproachful tone.

Aries lowered his head.

She hadn't been thinking about this at all! Her mind was only focused on how to escape from Voldemort; she hadn't considered making a comprehensive plan at all.

Voldemort is even less likely to make plans. He can just teleport to the arena, launch the Dark Mark, and start acting. Why bother with all that fancy stuff?

Looking at the doll that had turned to ashes, Polaris narrowed his eyes. It seemed that the wizarding world had come up with something incredible. Could this thing be mass-produced? How many dolls were in stock?

"Tom, without the divine aura buff, how many of these puppets could you take down?"

Voldemort was instantly enraged: How dare Polaris compare him to this foolish puppet?!

"Endless, no matter how many puppets come, they will all be reduced to ashes by my magic."

Polaris was too lazy to bother with Voldemort.

In his view, although he had instantly killed the puppet, it was still difficult to deal with without divine intervention. Voldemort could handle three to five at once, but what if ten or twenty came? Voldemort was only one person, but the puppets' production capacity was endless.

Such a huge change has occurred in the wizarding world. I, who have been living in seclusion for so many years, have been careless.

The potential for development of wizards, a species that can grow through training, is unimaginable. Polaris felt a pang of regret; she shouldn't have relaxed her surveillance of the wizards.

"Then I wish you every success." Disheartened, Polaris didn't want to waste any more words and decided to let Voldemort experience it for himself.

"My lord..." Aries was anxious when he saw that Polaris was about to leave, and quickly called out to him.

"Oh, right." Polaris realized that she hadn't dealt with Aries's problem yet.

"You stay here to maintain contact between the Secret Order and Mr. Voldemort."

Aries: ...

She felt despair overwhelm her. After spending so much time with Voldemort, couldn't she see what kind of monster he was? He was a serpent in human skin, a monster through and through.

By making such a arrangement, Lord Polaris is essentially treating himself as a pawn to be sacrificed!

Indeed, in Polaris's eyes, Voldemort is more important than a constellation monk, and Aries's mission is to stay here and act as bait with Voldemort.

He was aware of Taurus's unusual behavior, but he didn't care. His divine domain was insignificant; he could have as many non-core members like chess pieces as he wanted.

"I've brought you some helpers." Polaris snapped his fingers, and a dozen or so people dressed in robes and wearing hoods appeared.

Aries looked at them and felt even more desperate: the people who came were all their trusted subordinates. The organization clearly intended to use them to feed Voldemort.

"Now that you're all Death Eaters, go and add some fun to the competition with your Voldemort!" Polaris disappeared, his voice fading into the air.

"I really have to thank Lord Polaris for replenishing my ranks with so many subordinates." Voldemort looked into Aries' eyes and said with a smile, "I'm not picky about Death Eaters. As long as they are loyal to me, they are my servants. But only those who pass my approval can receive the Dark Mark."

Aries shuddered; she saw again the familiar predator's gaze upon its prey in those snake eyes.

Voldemort didn't care what Aries was thinking. He drew his wand and conjured more than ten robes and masks, dressing up the people Polaris brought as Death Eaters.

Once all the Secret Order monks were dressed up as Death Eaters, Voldemort suddenly found them much more pleasing to the eye, as if the powerful and influential man he was a decade or so ago had returned.

"Go and give the wizarding world a little surprise!" Voldemort let out a cold laugh.

Inside the stadium, the opening ceremony of the competition also began.

The Bulgarian team's mascots were the first to enter the field.

One hundred Vespas glided into the arena, their skin glowing with a soft, moonlit light, their hair flowing behind them even without wind. Their beauty was like that of fallen elves, rendering the wizards present incapable of thought.

"As expected of Veelas, they possess powerful innate charm abilities." Rhys acknowledged the Veelas' ability to charm the group.

Chaos had erupted in the box. Harry stood up, one leg propped against the wall. Beside him, Ron crouched on the railing, poised to dive. The other wizards were also displaying varying degrees of madness; only the witches remained relatively composed.

As witches skilled in the flow of magic, both Daphne and Astoria successfully resisted the Veela's allure.

The two exchanged a glance and simultaneously looked towards Rice, only to find him sitting calmly and composed in his seat.

"Rice, what's wrong with you...?" Daphne asked incredulously. There were a hundred Veelas, why was Rice completely unaffected? He was a warlock!

Rice shrugged, indicating that he simply had a strong will.

Besides, you two are both fine, so isn't it normal that I'm immune to Veela's abilities? If I couldn't even withstand this, what would I be doing here?

However, looking at the wizards around him who were making a fool of themselves, Rice was speechless: These people are too shameful.

He raised his hand and gently patted the armrest of the chair, and a surge of magic spread out from his body. Instantly, the drowsy wizards in the box all shuddered, as if a bucket of cold water had been poured over their heads.

With his eyes half-closed, Rice further expanded the range of his spell's influence.

Soon, like a stone thrown into a pond, Rice spread its spell throughout the stadium, waking the bewitched wizards.

The Veela continued to dance to the music, but the strange thoughts that had plagued the wizards' minds had vanished.

"Phew..." Rice let out a soft sigh of relief, a wave of fatigue washing over him.

Dispelling the charm spells cast on tens of thousands of wizards all at once was quite a challenge. The easiest way would have been to interrupt the Veela's dance, but that would have been disruptive, and Rice didn't want to ruin such a joyous opening ceremony for the finals.

Daphne and Astoria both noticed Rice's subtle movements. Facing their gazes, Rice said softly, "It's a group dispel spell, a very useful incantation. I'll teach you later."

After the Veela's performance, it was the turn of Ireland's mascots, the Goblins, to enter the arena.

The goblins hovered above the court, and then countless golden raindrops fell.

It's countless gold coins!

The wizards in the stadium went wild, cheering and scrambling around, some even crawling under their seats to collect the coins.

Daphne excitedly stood up from her seat and nimbly grabbed several gold coins into her hand.

Then she turned around and saw that her sister and Rice were sitting motionless in their seats. She immediately urged them, "Aren't you going to pick up some gold coins? These are—"

"The goblin's gold coins," Rice said, rubbing his forehead and sighing, "Take another look."

Astoria covered her mouth and chuckled secretly.

Thank goodness I didn't try to steal the gold coins!

Actually, Astoria didn't notice anything unusual about the gold coins. She just felt that such a small amount of money wasn't worth jumping around like a monkey. If she stood up and tried to grab the coins herself, wouldn't she become just like her sister?

Hearing what Rice said, Daphne took a closer look at the gold coin in her hand and noticed that the flow of magic on it seemed to be different from that of Galleons.

"This is……"

"Fake gold coins, things that disappear in a few hours," Rice explained to Daphne about the characteristics of the Irish leprechaun.

Daphne: ...

A dejected Daphne emptied all the gold coins from her pocket and scattered them away.

Astoria watched everything unfold, then lowered her voice and said, "Sister, did you throw out the normal Galleons too?"

Daphne: ?!

Rice sighed again and used magic to retrieve the gold coin that Daphne had thrown out.

"Don't worry about the game, the players are entering the arena."

At a single command, the grand spectacle began.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

Update delivered, goodnight~

(End of this chapter)