— — — — — —
From the moment Tom appeared to the moment the chaos was brought under control, only five minutes passed.
Of course, that was just this one camp.
"Fleur, you stay with Madame Maxime. I'll go check the other areas."
The boy gave Maxime a slight nod, then took off toward the other camps with the phantom image of a phoenix blazing in the sky above him. At the same time, streaks of light kept bursting from his wand. Unlike ordinary spells, they didn't fade after being cast. Instead, they followed behind him, flying along in his wake.
By the time he reached the next camp, a dragon made entirely of spells had already taken shape.
Tom didn't slow down at all. He swept across the sky, and when the spell-dragon entered the camp, it automatically broke apart into countless individual spells. With the talents he got from Jeanne, he could easily tell good from evil. Every spell followed his will, striking targets according to the intensity of their malicious intent.
When the spell-dragon left the camp, its size had shrunk by more than half, but it was quickly replenished again.
At this point, Tom no longer had to think about how much magic he was using. His total magical reserves were even more terrifying than Andros', and paired with his powerful recovery ability, he effectively had an infinite mana bar.
What really demanded careful management was his mental focus. Precisely controlling spells to weave around innocent bystanders and strike only the rioters was no simple task.
Magic was about acting on instinct, but the mind still had to hold every detail clearly at once.
The situation was far too chaotic. Even though the Transformers were present, they couldn't accurately distinguish friend from foe in such a complex environment, so they were limited to basic protection duties.
On another front, Ikaros was picking up speed as well. In addition to members of Astra Abyssum, several bold and capable wizards had joined their ranks.
...
And then it happened.
High in the sky, a burst of green light exploded. The color was identical to that of the Killing Curse. The scattered lights rapidly assembled themselves into a massive skull.
From the skull's mouth emerged a gigantic python, like a grotesque tongue. The skull rose higher and higher, resembling a newly formed constellation or a neon sign, illuminating the surrounding area.
A large number of British wizards who saw it sucked in sharp breaths, their throats tightening as if someone were choking them, unable to speak.
"What… what is that?" Harry, standing with a group in a small wooded area, saw it too. He noticed the people around him turning deathly pale, terror written all over their faces.
"That's the Dark Mark," Fred said after taking a deep breath. "The symbol of You-Know-Who."
"But… it's just a symbol, isn't it?" Harry still didn't understand why everyone was reacting so strongly. Voldemort himself wasn't actually here. Was it really worth being this afraid?
"Potter, you don't understand."
Luna's father, Xenophilius Lovegood, spoke in a near whisper. "To every British wizard, the Dark Mark is a nightmare. Back then, whenever You-Know-Who and his followers committed atrocities, they always left this mark behind."
"Seeing it means a tragedy has already happened. Imagine this: you work all day, exhausted, finally come home, and there's a Dark Mark hovering over your roof. How would you feel, knowing what you're about to find inside? It's every wizard's worst fear. The absolute worst."
This time, Harry's hands and feet went ice-cold. His mind flashed back to that night, the one he had dreamed of countless times.
---
"Heh… the Dark Mark?"
Ariana could see the enormous skull in the sky as well. She let out a cold laugh.
This was the most remote camp, reserved exclusively for the Grindelwald Acolytes and wizards from regions under his control.
"That muck-brained idiot really has a flair for theatrics," she scoffed. "But if I remember right, this trick was something Grindelwald used first, wasn't it?"
She turned her head to look at the woman beside her.
Vinda Rosier tugged at the corner of her mouth, then gave a slight nod, "Back then, Sir Grindelwald used the Deathly Hallows symbol to gather allies. But he would never flaunt it the way Voldemort does."
"Bullshit," Ariana shot back without any politeness. "I clearly remember Berlin and Bhutan. You lot set those marks off like fireworks. If that's not showing off, what is?"
"Tsk. He's no different from Voldemort. Just more clever, better at dressing it up."
The people standing behind Ariana were all core members of the Acolytes, Grindelwald's most fanatical followers. The old men and women lowered their heads, pretending they hadn't heard a thing.
Nothing this young lady said was surprising anymore. It wasn't the first time they'd seen her argue with Grindelwald, arguments that ended with spells flying and Avada Kedavra being cast without hesitation.
When Riddle spoke with Grindelwald, he at least treated him as an equal. This girl, on the other hand, seemed determined to bully the old man at every opportunity.
And every time, Ariana came out on top, forcing Grindelwald to back down again and again, conceding one condition after another.
"Aunt Vinda." After staring at the Dark Mark for a moment longer, Ariana spoke again. "Go. Blow that thing up."
Vinda immediately raised her wand and released the triangular symbol of the Deathly Hallows, slamming it straight into the Dark Mark. The massive skull shattered like fireworks in the sky.
Only then did Ariana nod in satisfaction.
"Let's go."
"Go where?" Vogel asked, confused.
"To kill people," Ariana replied as if it were obvious. "They caused trouble at an event Tom was hosting. That's a capital felony."
Vogel looked troubled. "Miss… it's not that we don't want to help Mr. Riddle. But our identities are sensitive. If we move openly, people will misunderstand. When that happens, no one will know who's fighting who."
Ariana's expression turned icy in an instant. "What, Grindelwald can give you orders, but I can't?"
Vogel shuddered and nodded repeatedly. "You can, Miss. Of course you can."
"Then stop talking nonsense and move."
Very quickly, nearly a hundred Acolytes were gathered by Vinda and Vogel. Ariana pulled up a black hood, hiding herself completely within a wide cloak that obscured her face. With her subordinates in tow, she set off in force.
In the darkness, a figure perfectly blended into the surroundings watched the Dark Mark shatter. He snorted coldly, narrow eyes squinting as venomous light spilled out.
"Grindelwald…"
To British wizards, the Dark Mark was a nightmare. As for the Deathly Hallows symbol, it was a taboo across the entire European continent, even the whole wizarding world, except for the Acolytes.
Most people didn't even know the Deathly Hallows existed, let alone understand what the symbol truly meant. They had never seen it with their own eyes.
But the bloody legends passed down from their elders, combined with what Grindelwald had done since his return, were more than enough to terrify them.
Now things were really spiraling out of control.
Tom hadn't expected Ariana to jump in at all. This was a textbook case of good intentions making everything worse.
With a helpless sigh, Tom directed the phoenix that had been shining above him toward the Deathly Hallows symbol. At the same time, he released a black dragon. When the Deathly Hallows mark followed the Dark Mark into oblivion, the cry of the phoenix and the roar of the dragon echoed across the night sky.
A dragon and a phoenix together formed the Riddle family crest, and also the emblem of the Astra Abyssum Guild.
The face of the man hiding in the shadows darkened even further.
That man was, of course, Voldemort.
For now, Voldemort still didn't dare return to Britain, not with Tom and Dumbledore watching so closely. His resurrection was at a critical stage, but he couldn't stand seeing Tom bask in success either. That was why he had chosen to use an "eye" to observe the situation up close and stir up some trouble to vent his anger.
He had been rather pleased with himself at first. But watching his Dark Mark get torn apart so easily ruined his mood completely.
When Ariana reached the first camp, she finally realized she had messed up.
The drunken troublemakers sobered up instantly. The Quidditch hooligans quickly shifted their focus. Even many of the ordinary wizards who had been fleeing in panic pulled out their wands and stared warily at the Acolytes.
Ariana hurriedly split her attention and apologized to Tom through the study space.
Given the situation, even Tom, looking through Ariana's perspective, admitted that if he didn't know the truth, he would have assumed the Acolytes were taking advantage of the chaos to wipe out their enemies.
Just as a clash seemed inevitable, a rapid series of explosions rang out. More than fifty wizards descended from above.
They were reinforcements summoned by Aurors tasked with monitoring the Acolytes. Leading them was the Head of the Auror Office, Rufus Scrimgeour.
"Rosier, what do you think you're doing?" Scrimgeour's expression was grim. Things were already bad enough. Was all of this Grindelwald's plot?
"I invited them to help maintain order."
Tom's voice descended from the sky. Instantly, the Aurors felt their bodies grow heavy, as if pressure itself had taken physical form.
"Arrest the ones who were causing trouble earlier, Rufus. Don't make things worse."
"Move."
Tom himself never showed up. Scrimgeour's face darkened dangerously. He was the Head of the Auror Office, yet here he was being ordered around in front of so many people.
With Tom's approval, Vinda immediately directed the Acolytes to start arresting the troublemakers. Only then did the tourists finally believe the Acolytes weren't here to arrest them, and they stepped forward to identify the culprits.
...
By the time Tom finally regrouped with Ikaros, all twenty camps had been stabilized.
Fudge and the other ministers arrived fashionably late.
"Merlin…" Fudge almost wailed as he spoke. Staring at the bodies on the ground, he felt like he was seeing his own future.
How could someone cause this much chaos?
What Fudge didn't know was that the real trouble was still ahead.
As today's "victim," Tom Riddle was only now baring his fangs.
.
.
.