#427 - Chapter 427 The Return of the Demon King

Again, a dizzying sensation. Harry crashed to the ground with a thud. The sound of distant waves made him realize he was on an island.

In the darkness, a blurry figure in a cloak gradually appeared. Harry tried hard to make out the person's face, but it was completely hidden by the cloak's hood. He could only vaguely discern that it was a small figure.

The figure seemed to be holding something in their arms. As the distance shortened, Harry gradually realized it looked like a baby wrapped in cloth.

It's Voldemort! I've seen him like this in my dreams!

The instant he thought this, Harry's scar flared with intense pain. The pain was like a red-hot blade piercing his brain, instantly engulfing his entire body. He closed his eyes in agony, fine beads of sweat appearing on his forehead.

This was an unprecedented pain, as if his entire soul was being torn apart. He tried to raise his hand to press his forehead, but the paralysis of his body made him unable to move. Even his moans of pain could only turn into indistinct whimpers.

"Master!" Crouch's voice rang out in the darkness, mixed with a kind of fanatical reverence.

He quickly stepped forward and carefully took the baby from the small figure's arms, cradling it in front of his chest as if it were an invaluable sacred object.

The cloaked figure then came to Harry's side, waved his wand gently, and conjured a thick rope from the stones on the ground.

The rope flew towards Harry like a living thing, binding him tightly.

"This way, there will be no mistakes."

Hearing the familiar voice, Harry strained his eyes to look at the person, discovering that under the hood was the person he had seen before.

Using all his strength, Harry mumbled a few words from his mouth: "It's you... Wormtail!"

"Wormtail is dead. He died along with my mother the moment she died," Peter bent down, staring at Harry with a sinister gaze. "There is only Peter Pettigrew here. You better remember that name!"

"Wormtail! What are you dawdling about?" Crouch's stern voice came from the side. "Where's the cauldron? Take us there quickly."

Peter's face immediately changed to a fawning expression: "It's this way, follow me."

Saying that, he waved his wand, causing Harry to float behind him, and then led Crouch to the side.

Soon, a stone cauldron appeared before them. This cauldron was incredibly large, bigger than any cauldron Harry had ever seen. At least one adult could sit inside.

A huge snake guarded the edge of the cauldron. After seeing the group approach, it happily went to Crouch's side, slithering around the baby in his arms.

"Master, it's ready," Peter looked at the liquid in the cauldron and reported to the baby.

"Quick! I can't wait any longer."

Hearing this, Crouch carefully uncovered the wrappings, revealing the baby's entire body.

Harry had never seen a more hideous baby. The curled-up little thing had no hair, and the dark red color of its skin reminded one of raw flesh after a burn. Its limbs were thin and soft, as if they had no skeletal support.

But the most horrifying thing was its face. It didn't resemble the face of any living child, but rather a flat, snake-like face. Thin nostrils were slightly open, and a pair of blood-red eyes were embedded in that bizarre face, emitting a cold and bloodthirsty light.

With just a glance, the scar on Harry's forehead throbbed even more violently. He gritted his teeth, trying his best not to make any sound.

"Master, you will regain your power!" Crouch's expression was fanatical, his voice filled with a morbid reverence.

He held the terrifying creature and came to the edge of the cauldron, gently throwing it into the boiling potion.

Afterward, Wormtail stepped forward and began the final ritual—the bone of the father, the flesh of the servant, and the blood of the enemy.

Harry endured the headache, staring intently at the cauldron. Everything was proceeding as Sebastian had told him. Next, Voldemort should appear.

The fire under the cauldron went out, and a thick white vapor rose from the cauldron. In the vast mist, the figure of a man rose from the cauldron. He was tall and thin, like a skeleton.

As he stepped out of the cauldron, thick black smoke rose, turning into an exquisite black robe on his body.

Voldemort was resurrected. He raised his hands in front of his eyes, flexing his fingers nimbly: "The feeling of being alive is truly wonderful."

Saying that, he looked at Harry: "Harry Potter, we meet again."

Harry was not afraid at all, staring fiercely into the other's eyes with hatred.

Voldemort didn't care about Harry's gaze. He just sneered, then turned to Barty Crouch Jr. and held out his hand.

The effects of the Polyjuice Potion had worn off, and Barty Crouch Jr. had returned to his youthful appearance. He bowed and held up a wand with both hands.

"Master, your wand!"

Voldemort took the wand, gently stroking it once, and then praised Barty Crouch Jr.

"Barty, my most loyal servant, you have done well."

"Master," Barty Crouch Jr. was extremely excited, immediately prostrating himself on the ground and fervently kissing Voldemort's robes, "This is all I should do. I am willing to give everything for you."

Voldemort nodded and looked at Peter, who was covering his bleeding arm: "Wormtail, you cowardly rat, I am surprised to see loyalty in you."

"Master..." Peter endured the pain and crawled to Voldemort's feet on his knees.

"You helped me obtain a body, and you have been dutiful this past year. Voldemort will not mistreat loyal servants." Saying that, Voldemort waved his wand, conjuring a glittering human hand and attaching it to Peter's bleeding wrist.

"Continue to maintain your loyalty, and do not let it waver, Wormtail!"

"Of course, I will always be loyal to you, my master!" Peter fervently kissed Voldemort's robes, only by being loyal to Voldemort could he have the opportunity to use the other's power to complete his revenge.

"Master," Barty Crouch Jr. said, "What should we do with Karkaroff?"

"Hmph," Voldemort's face revealed a contemptuous expression, "That traitor, his efforts this year are merely to atone for his sins. He actually dares to hope for my forgiveness. Barty, what do you want to do with him?"

"My personal grudges with him are nothing. Everything is subject to the master's will," Barty Crouch Jr. respectfully lowered his head. "Of course, the master is currently in need of manpower. We can spare his life to reassure the other cowards."

"Cowards!" Voldemort let out a cold snort. "Hold out your arm!"

Hearing the order, Barty Crouch Jr. immediately stretched out his left arm, rolling up his sleeve to his elbow, revealing the Dark Mark on it.

Voldemort stretched out his wand and gently tapped the mark. After the wand was moved away, the mark had become as black as ink.

A cruel expression appeared on his face, and he raised his head and smiled slightly.

"Then let's see if those cowards dare to return after sensing the summons."