"Avada Kedavra!"
A flash of green light streaked through the room, instantly killing the rat scurrying past the corner.
Voldemort's expression remained cold as he picked up a handkerchief and wiped the sweat from his forehead.
He had recovered some of his strength now. At least he was no longer left completely defenceless after casting a single Killing Curse, as he had been when he first obtained a wand.
That was very good news for him.
By Voldemort's own estimation, he would need only three years to recover the strength of his prime.
But that prospect did not satisfy him, because even at his peak, he had still been no match for that mysterious powerhouse.
Voldemort found that completely unacceptable.
Having Dumbledore above him had already been irritating enough. Now there was Polaris from the Mystic Society, along with some unknown wizard who had appeared from nowhere...
Voldemort once again began craving power.
He did not merely want to recover all his strength. He wanted to rise even higher!
He would kill Dumbledore, Polaris, and the mysterious wizard, then absorb them into his Domain and turn them into his servants!
He would also bestow the highest honour upon them, allowing them to become his most loyal servants. With their strength, they were qualified for such a privilege.
Rhys's impression of Voldemort was not wrong. He was an extremely selfish man.
In the "grand vision" he had constructed, the wizarding world should resemble a pyramid.
At its summit would stand the one and only Lord Voldemort.
Beneath him would be his most loyal Death Eaters, followed by the wizards who willingly followed him.
Those who were less obedient and submitted only because they feared his power would occupy the middle of the pyramid.
Muggles and magical creatures would form its foundation.
As for those who refused to obey or submit, they would not even be worthy of enslavement.
However, the structure of the pyramid had recently undergone a slight change.
Voldemort had replaced the Death Eaters near its summit with the dead souls absorbed into his Domain.
Death Eaters who refused to embrace death and become his eternal servants were unworthy of serving closest to him.
It was not surprising that Voldemort had developed such thoughts, because he had genuinely experienced betrayal.
When he had lost power all those years ago, quite a few Death Eaters had immediately turned against him, something he had never forgotten.
If Voldemort had still possessed a trace of trust in his Death Eaters twenty years ago, he now trusted only himself.
Perhaps he could also include those lovely snakes.
For now, however, all these thoughts were nothing more than empty fantasies, no different from the dreams of a virgin before falling asleep at night.
He had not even recovered the ability to cast magic without a wand!
At the thought, Voldemort could not help wanting to sigh.
He silently rose, walked to the corner, and retrieved the dead rat.
After some simple preparation, Voldemort began enjoying the meal before him.
At that moment, the door of the ruined house creaked open.
Voldemort stopped moving and gripped the wand lying on the table.
To his surprise, the figure that entered was one of the Ministry of Magic's standard puppets.
"The Ministry? How did they find this place?"
Alarm bells rang in Voldemort's mind.
In his current condition, if Ministry forces surrounded him, he truly would die here.
"Do not be alarmed, my friend. I am Polaris of the Mystic Society."
Just as a fight seemed about to erupt, the puppet spoke and dispelled the tension before it could turn into conflict.
However, even after the other party revealed the name Polaris, Voldemort did not relax in the slightest.
To him, there was little difference between the Ministry and the Mystic Society.
The latter was merely slightly preferable to the former.
"Why have you come to see me?" Voldemort asked coldly.
Although he had lost more than ninety-nine per cent of his strength, his presence remained as imposing as ever.
The bluff of that degree naturally could not fool Polaris, but he did not expose his suspicious ally.
"Our cooperation is not over, is it? Although we suffered a minor setback during the final, fortunately, that was only the Quidditch World Cup final, not the final confrontation between us and Hogwarts."
Voldemort's expression remained cold, but he relaxed considerably.
Judging by Polaris's words, he would be able to continue cooperating closely with the Mystic Society for some time.
Voldemort had been somewhat worried that, after losing his strength, the Mystic Society would forcibly reclaim the divine remains inside him. Having spent so long with the Mystic Society, he understood what successfully fused divine remains meant to them.
It meant powerful fighters who could be mass-produced.
Once the malice within divine remains had been worn away, they became far easier to fuse with. The Mystic Society regarded such remains as priceless treasures.
"You seem to need some help."
"Lord Voldemort does not need help," Voldemort retorted forcefully at once, refusing to admit that he had suffered extremely severe internal injuries.
"The puppet's eyes may be decorative, but mine are not." The puppet controlled by Polaris made a hissing sound. "The power of a Domain is running rampant inside you. The Mystic Society can help you remove those lingering forces. Relying on your strength alone would take at least three years, and I cannot wait that long."
Voldemort fell silent. He understood that if he rejected Polaris again, the Mystic Society would truly turn its attention towards recovering the divine remains from him and allowing one of its monks to fuse with them instead.
Seeing Voldemort cease his objections, Polaris, hidden behind the puppet, revealed a satisfied smile.
He did not want to forcibly replace the host of the divine remains either. Voldemort was the person most capable of bringing out their full power, and the organisation currently had no one more suitable than him.
"I will send monks from the Society to find you here. I do not want them to make a wasted journey, nor do I want to see any change in their condition, because I have other arrangements for them."
After saying this, the puppet froze in place and stopped moving.
Voldemort stared at the piece of rubbish Polaris had left inside his house, extreme disgust flashing through his eyes, but he could not do anything about it.
...
After more than half a day of revelry, Hogwarts Castle was shrouded in a listless atmosphere.
That was only natural. Even energetic young people would feel exhausted after celebrations as intense as yesterday's.
Rhys, however, was not one of them.
For someone whose physical age was only in his teens, his daily routine was far too healthy.
He had enjoyed a long, satisfying sleep the previous night and woke that morning feeling several pounds lighter, even down to his bones.
When Rhys entered the common room, he found Daphne emerging from the dormitory while yawning. Her silver hair was in complete disarray, making it obvious that she had only recently woken up.
Upon seeing Rhys, Daphne froze briefly before immediately waving at him with delight.
"Good morning. Would you like to get some breakfast? I certainly didn't eat very well during that month," Rhys replied to her greeting before inviting her to breakfast.
"Of course!" Daphne agreed without hesitation.
On the way to the Great Hall, she belatedly remembered something.
"Rhys, I met an Ilvermorny contestant during the competition. He said that, in preparation for this tournament, Ilvermorny used a relic belonging to Salazar Slytherin!"
Rhys: Hmm?
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12 Chaps ahead at Patreon.com/HornyFBI