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In George's view, if the wizarding world continued to develop at this pace, it was only a matter of time before they were discovered by the Muggles.
Over the years, the wizarding world had barely progressed. Compared to decades ago, the only real improvements were a few spells that made daily life more convenient.
Meanwhile, the Muggle world had witnessed rapid, exponential advancements in science and technology.
The miraculous feats of cutting-edge Muggle technology were no less impressive than magic.
Once the Muggles discovered the existence of wizards, a war would inevitably erupt. Ruling classes on either side would never allow a threat to their authority to exist.
It would either be wizards ruling Muggles, or Muggles ruling wizards.
Take the New World, for instance—there, Muggles ruled over wizards. Wizards had to live by rules set by Muggles and were restricted in number to avoid becoming a perceived threat.
And by then, chances were high that wizards wouldn't be able to hold their own.
In terms of destructive power, magical spells—no matter how powerful—couldn't compare to nuclear weapons and other advanced technology.
In terms of cunning and strategy, the battle-hardened Muggles could outmaneuver most wizards by a mile.
The only real advantage wizards had was superior one-on-one combat ability, and the overwhelming power of top-tier wizards capable of targeted assassinations to eliminate key Muggle leaders.
But considering how Muggle society functioned, killing a leader would mean nothing—another would immediately rise to take their place. There were too many nations, too many people. You simply couldn't kill them all.
Most importantly, if a war between Muggles and wizards were to break out—
No Muggles would side with the wizards. But there would certainly be wizards who sided with the Muggles.
Wizards born to Muggle parents might defect if the Muggles offered enough benefits, and they could very well end up leading a government department tasked with managing wizards after the war.
And there were also wizards like Dumbledore, who, in the name of peace, might actively stop the assassination of Muggle leaders.
If things kept heading in this direction, the odds of a wizard victory were slim.
So George's actions were preemptive—he was triggering the inevitable war between Muggles and wizards ahead of schedule.
While Muggle technology was still not overwhelmingly advanced, he wanted to help wizards win the war and establish a unified world where wizards led and Muggles followed.
And why was he helping wizards instead of Muggles?
Because in this world, he was a wizard. Naturally, he would side with his own kind.
If he had been born a Muggle, he would have sided with them instead. It was simply a matter of perspective.
In conflicts like this, between wizards and Muggles, there was no such thing as justice or injustice. It was about survival and self-interest.
It was like a lion hunting an antelope. From the lion's point of view, failing to catch prey meant starvation. From the antelope's perspective, being caught meant death.
There was no right or wrong—if you were a lion, help the lion. If you were an antelope, help the antelope. Know where you stand. Don't be an antelope helping lions or a lion pitying antelopes.
"Voldemort, shut your filthy mouth! You butchered countless people back then, and now you claim it was for the benefit of the wizarding world? What a joke! You did it all for yourself! You're a damn demon!"
"Release Dumbledore and the Minister, or I'll make sure you die again today!"
A thunderous voice echoed through the stadium, interrupting everyone's thoughts on Voldemort's speech.
The speaker was none other than Rufus Scrimgeour, Head of the Auror Office at the Ministry of Magic. Behind him stood a large group of Aurors, all with grim expressions, wands raised, pointed directly at George on the commentator's platform.
George burst into arrogant laughter at the sight.
"You lot? Even Dumbledore couldn't beat me in my current form. And you pathetic insects think you can?"
"Attack!"
Rufus didn't waste another word. He immediately ordered the Aurors to launch a coordinated assault on George.
But George simply waved his hand, casting the Protego Maxima shielding spell in front of him.
Countless spells struck the shield in rapid succession, but it didn't even ripple.
"What?! That's impossible!"
The faces of Rufus and the other Aurors twisted in disbelief. Voldemort was powerful, yes—but not even he should've been able to block so many spells with a single shield charm.
"Petrificus Totalus—Chain Lightning!"
While one hand maintained the shield, George raised the other and unleashed a paralyzing chain spell. Half of the Aurors were instantly frozen in place, immobilized on the spot.
Seeing the situation deteriorate rapidly, Rufus shouted loudly to the crowd:
"Everyone, please help! We can't let Voldemort get away! If he escapes, the wizarding world will descend into chaos!"
Hearing Rufus's cry for help, many wizards gritted their teeth and raised their wands, pointing them toward Voldemort on the commentator's platform.
Among the 100,000 wizards present, many were just ordinary civilians—afraid of Voldemort's wrath, some had already quietly slipped away.
There were also children in the audience, too young and inexperienced to fight.
But there were still many others—Aurors and officials from foreign Ministries of Magic, like Lena, the Head of the French Auror Office—who had taken time off to attend the Quidditch World Cup.
Faced with a crisis like this, they had no choice but to step forward and fight.
Even those who weren't government officials but had a strong sense of justice—or personal vendettas against Voldemort and the Death Eaters—were ready to join in.
People like Sirius Black, Professor McGonagall, Professor Snape, and others.
Even Harry, Hermione, and Ron—just students—raised their wands.
Thousands upon thousands of spells burst from raised wands, all aimed at Voldemort.
Overhead, the Death Eaters holding the unconscious Dumbledore and others turned pale.
They knew Voldemort was strong—but no one could be this strong. Not even Voldemort could face tens of thousands of spells all at once and survive.
"Hahaha! Today, you'll witness the true might of Voldemort! Only I can lead the wizarding world onto the right path!"
George flew into the air using Voldemort's flight spell. With a flick of his wand, a killing curse the size of a tree trunk blasted forward, whirling through the air.
The powerful Avada Kedavra clashed with the incoming spells and shattered them effortlessly. Not a single spell made it through to touch George.
Everyone was stunned by what they saw.
Impossible. Voldemort couldn't be this powerful. Was he even still human?
Not even the legendary Merlin, not even the Four Founders of Hogwarts could stand alone against the combined assault of over ten thousand wizards.
In that moment, Voldemort appeared to be a god—an invincible being—and a deep, chilling fear took root in everyone's heart.
But just when despair had engulfed the entire stadium, a voice rang out like a thunderclap:
"Voldemort! Don't get ahead of yourself—let me take you on!"
George tore off his Quidditch jersey, revealing an ornate wizard's robe beneath. From his back, eight pairs of radiant white wings spread wide, his entire body glowing with holy light as he soared into the sky—standing face to face with Voldemort.
(End of Chapter)