"Let's go. We'll perform the resurrection ritual now."
When Voldemort said this, Pettigrew Peter clearly froze for a moment, then spoke in some panic, "But you still haven't gotten Link Flamel's blood yet."
"You think we can still get that blood now?"
Voldemort spoke with utter mockery, and after saying it, even cast a contemptuous glance at the fully armored Death Eater beside him, as if to ask why he wasn't continuing to act so high and mighty.
Yet the armored Death Eater didn't bother with Voldemort at all, still silent, still staring down at the battlefield.
Seeing this, Voldemort gave a cold snort and once again urged Pettigrew Peter to take him to carry out the resurrection ritual.
The current situation no longer allowed him to wait any longer. What mattered most was to resurrect immediately, to restore his strength first, only then could he turn the tide of battle and continue plotting to obtain Link's blood.
Although this would mean his resurrection wouldn't reach its maximum potential, right now this was the only option.
Under Voldemort's prodding, Pettigrew Peter unwillingly shuffled toward a giant cauldron not far away.
Voldemort had made extensive preparations for this ritual. At present, the liquid inside this enormous cauldron was already boiling under the flames, and the unconscious Harry Potter was bound right beside it.
"Hurry! Now!"
The Voldemort who was cradled in Pettigrew's arms shouted impatiently. Hearing this, Pettigrew no longer hesitated. With trembling hands he unwrapped the swaddling cloth and threw the frail, infant-like Voldemort into the cauldron.
Hisssss!
A strange sound rose from the cauldron. The potion within boiled furiously, bubbles bursting and releasing a nauseating, stewed-meat stench.
———
At that very moment, in the very center of the battlefield, Link suddenly sensed something. He whipped his head around to stare at Pettigrew and the cauldron in the distance, and his blue-glowing eyes widened sharply.
The greatest crisis of the night had finally appeared.
If Voldemort were to resurrect now, then basically everyone here would be doomed.
"Charge that way!" Link pointed gravely in Pettigrew's direction. "We must stop them from completing that ritual! At all costs!"
The moment he spoke, the magical beast hunters were the first to react.
They didn't care whether Link's order was right or wrong, they simply grabbed up their weapons in unison and launched an all-out attack toward where Link had pointed.
The German elder wizards hesitated at first, but their vast knowledge told them at a glance the kind of significance Voldemort's ritual carried. In an instant they became even more stirred than the hunters.
Link's magic, nourished by potions and rest, had already recovered considerably. As the one giving the order for the charge, he naturally couldn't shrink back, and so he raised his wand and rushed at the very rear of the group.
Their sudden assault left the Death Eaters baffled. Those caught directly in the path had almost no time to react before being blasted to pieces.
But at the same time, the flanks and rear of the charging formation were harassed by Death Eaters who quickly shifted their formation and attack points.
Even though Link deliberately stayed in the back to cover everyone's retreat, several hunters at the flanks were still struck by Killing Curses and forced to leave their lives behind forever.
Looking at those corpses, their bodies completely ashen, Link's expression grew extremely grim.
He wasn't only angry at their deaths.
After all, his bond with the hunters wasn't deep. From his perspective, they weren't truly Frey family private soldiers, but more like long-term mercenaries.
Faced with their deaths, what he felt at most was a trace of instinctive human empathy.
What really shook his emotions was the fact that the fully armored Death Eater, who had been spectating from afar, had finally entered the battlefield.
At this moment, he had gathered a large group of Death Eaters and blocked the charging squad's only path forward.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
The hunters didn't care who it was.
Seeing someone block their way, they relied on their ballistae's range and unleashed a first round of volleys.
Then, once in range, the other hunters and German elder wizards fired a barrage of spells.
For a moment, the area where the armored Death Eater stood was engulfed in explosions of all colors.
But unfortunately, the armored Death Eater had already ordered the others to raise a golden half-dome shield formed by the "Unbreakable Protection Charm."
The assault could cause some shockwave damage, but it basically didn't trouble the Death Eaters inside at all.
Seeing this, Link didn't remain behind. He turned into a shadowy blur, slipping past the crowd to rush straight at the enemy.
"Break for me!"
With his shout, a hair-thin water-cutting blade wrapped with a drill-shaped curse of spinning force stabbed fiercely at the golden shield.
Buzz!
At the instant of contact, large amounts of golden light-dust flaked off the shield, and the drill burrowed deep into it.
But that was all.
The armored Death Eater had long been prepared, waiting just behind the shield. With his wand glowing brilliantly gold, he thrust forward fiercely, and that overwhelming force directly knocked Link's attack back.
Afterward, the armored Death Eater didn't attack further, but simply stood behind the shield, calmly watching Link.
His entire face was hidden beneath the helmet, making his expression unreadable.
But those pale brown eyes of his carried a trace of mocking amusement, which made flames of anger rise in Link's chest.
"Damn it! Hunters! Blast that turtle shell with the dragon-ballista fire! I want to see how long your magic can last!"
At Link's roar, the hunters launched volley after volley at the shield again.
Such attacks weren't useless, they did consume the Death Eaters' magic, but the effect was painfully slow.
The German elder wizards, arriving a bit later, frowned at Link's tactic, looking disappointed. They were just about to persuade him to change strategy when Link preempted them.
"Gentlemen, please cast 'All-Curse's End' again and break this turtle shell. Don't worry about being interrupted, right now the hunters' assault is the best cover you could have."
"Huh?!"
The tall wizard leading them was momentarily stunned, then his eyes lit up.
It seemed this young master Link did indeed have some real tactical ability.
Feeling both stirred and relieved, the tall wizard thumped his chest and promised, "Leave it to us, young master!"
With that, he led the elder wizards forward under the cover of bombardment, preparing to set up "All-Curse's End."
Watching their backs, Link's face grew even darker.
Though "All-Curse's End" was faster than whittling away at the shield, it still required time to prepare.
And right now, the thing he lacked most was, time.
———
Meanwhile, Pettigrew Peter stirred the cauldron while keeping an eye on the battlefield.
When Link had first charged, he nearly abandoned Voldemort and ran.
Luckily the armored Death Eater had responded fast enough, and that steadied him.
Still, he found the armored Death Eater's actions strange.
After all, he was little more than Voldemort's caretaker, and a very poor one at that.
He didn't know much about Voldemort's secret plans, nor how he had gathered so many followers.
At best, he only knew Voldemort was cooperating with the forces behind the armored Death Eater.
But from his observations, that cooperation wasn't pleasant.
In fact, not long ago the armored Death Eater's faction had used the excuse of attacking Link Flamel to wipe out many of the ordinary Death Eaters Voldemort had painstakingly gathered.
So why would someone like that step forward now, risking his life to block Link Flamel's army for Voldemort?
Pettigrew simply couldn't understand, just like back then, he hadn't understood why James and Sirius had resisted Voldemort so fiercely.
Fortunately, he had enough self-awareness. Faced with things he couldn't figure out, he chose not to think about them, and instead focused on the resurrection ritual.
Watching Voldemort's broken, frail body completely dissolve in the cauldron, Pettigrew finally stopped stirring.
He picked up his wand, closed his eyes, and with a trembling voice recited to the night sky, "Bone of the father, unknowingly given, you will restore your son to life."
A small, withered finger bone floated from his robes and landed in the cauldron.
The surface, smooth as mercury, shattered apart. With hissing sounds and sparks flying, the potion instantly turned a vivid blue.
Seeing this, Pettigrew trembled even harder.
With difficulty, he pulled out a silver dagger, and in a sobbing voice full of fear, cried, "Flesh of the servant… willingly given, will revive your master!"
As soon as the words left his lips, Pettigrew stretched out his mutilated right hand, then gripped the dagger with his left and slashed down hard.
"Ahhh!"
A piercing scream split the night sky.
Wailing, Pettigrew clutched his wound and curled on the ground.
His ugly severed hand fell into the cauldron, and with another violent boil, the potion turned blood-red.
Only after a long time did his cries weaken.
His chest still heaved violently, moans escaping uncontrollably from his mouth and nose.
Even so, he forced himself through the pain, crawled to Harry, and suddenly slashed Harry's arm.
The sudden pain woke Harry.
He clutched his wound, slowly opened his eyes, and the first thing he saw was Pettigrew Peter's ugly, twisted face.
"Ah!"
Startled, Harry struggled violently. Even bound, his desperate burst of strength carried him several feet away.
But it was already too late.
Pettigrew ignored him, instead carefully raising a glass vial.
At its bottom was a small amount of Harry's blood.
"Blood of the enemy… forcibly taken… you will resurrect your foe!"
Suddenly he seemed energized, his face flushed bright red. He leapt to his feet, chanting as he stumbled toward the cauldron.
One step.
Two steps.
Three steps.
Finally, he reached the cauldron and poured in Harry's blood.
"Task… complete."
Murmuring, Pettigrew collapsed to the ground, clutching his stump and wailing in tears.
At that moment, the potion in the cauldron boiled completely over. Diamond-like sparks flew in all directions, dazzlingly bright, turning everything around into the color of black velvet.
At the same time, Link's German wizards finally completed the casting of "All-Curse's End."
With a silver beam rising from a crack in the ground, the golden shield that had troubled them for so long instantly collapsed.
Then, the waiting hunters unleashed another storm of bolts.
The exhausted Death Eaters, drained from maintaining the shield, had no way to dodge such a barrage. They were blown apart into pieces of flesh.
The armored Death Eater was perhaps the only one still with energy left.
At the moment of the blast, he turned into a black mist and shot out of the explosion zone, even managing to save two despairing Death Eaters as he went.
"Charge with me!"
Link, eyes red, led the charge.
This time, the armored Death Eater didn't block him, only stood in place watching from afar with a look of smugness.
That made the ominous feeling in Link's heart grow even heavier.
Sure enough, when he and his forces reached Pettigrew, he was stunned to find the flames under the cauldron had gone out.
Thick steam drifted out, obscuring the inside completely.
And then, from within, a tall, thin, skeleton-like black figure slowly stood.
At just one glance, a piercing chill surged through Link and all the others, freezing them in place, even the German elders.
"Give me my robes!"
A cold, sharp voice cut through the fog.
Weeping and groaning, Pettigrew crawled up, grabbed a bundle-like black robe, and with great difficulty draped it over his master's body.
Then, the figure leapt nimbly from the mist, revealing a pale, hideous, nightmare-like face to all present.
"Hoo~"
Link exhaled heavily.
His feelings were impossibly mixed, but the magic within him surged even more violently.
Voldemort had resurrected.
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