Chapter 427 Return of the Demon King

The world spun around again and Harry fell to the ground with a thud again. The sound of waves in the distance made him realize that he had arrived on an island this time.

In the darkness, a blurry figure in a cloak gradually emerged. Harry tried hard to see the other person's face clearly, but the other person's face was tightly covered by the hood of the cloak. He could only vaguely make out that it was a short figure.

The other person's arms seemed to be holding something, and as the distance shortened, Harry gradually realized that it looked like a baby wrapped in cloth.

It’s a mysterious man. I have seen him like this in my dreams!

Just as he thought of this, Harry's scar suddenly felt a sharp pain. The pain was like a red-hot blade piercing his mind, instantly sweeping through his whole body. He closed his eyes in pain, and beads of sweat appeared 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 whole body made him unable to move, and even his cries of pain could only turn into indistinct moans.

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

He quickly stepped forward and carefully took the baby from the short figure's arms, holding it against his chest as if it were an inestimably precious holy object.

The cloaked man came up to Harry, stretched out his wand and waved it lightly, using the gravel on the ground to create a thick rope.

The ropes flew towards Harry like a living thing and entangled him tightly.

"That way it's foolproof."

Hearing the familiar voice, Harry tried to open his eyes wide and looked at the other person, and found that the person under the hood was the person he had seen before.

Using all his strength, Harry uttered a few words incoherently: "It's you...Wormtail!"

"Wormtail is dead. He died at the same moment my mother died," Peter bent down and stared at Harry sinisterly. "There is only Peter Pettigrew here. You'd better remember this name!"

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

Peter's face immediately changed to a flattering expression: "Over here, follow me."

As he said this, he waved his wand, making Harry float behind him, and then walked to the side with Crouch.

Soon, a stone crucible appeared in front of everyone. This crucible was extremely large, larger than any crucible Harry had ever seen, and could at least accommodate an adult sitting in it.

A huge snake was guarding the cauldron. When it saw everyone approaching, it happily came to Crouch and swam around the baby in his arms.

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

"Hurry! I can't wait."

Hearing this, Crouch carefully opened the package and exposed the baby's whole body.

Harry had never seen a baby uglier than this one. The curled-up little thing had no hair, and its dark red skin color reminded people of tender flesh after burns. Its limbs were thin and soft, as if there were no bones to support them.

The most horrifying thing was its face, which did not look like the face of any living child, but a flat face like a snake. Its long and thin nostrils were slightly open, and a pair of blood-red eyes were embedded in that weird face, emitting a cold and bloodthirsty light.

Just a glance made the scar on Harry's forehead sting even more violently. He gritted his teeth and tried his best not to make any sound.

"Master, you will regain your power!" Crouch said fanatically, his voice full of morbid reverence.

He carried the horrible creature to the cauldron and gently dropped him into the boiling potion.

Then Wormtail stepped forward and began to perform the last rites - the bones of his father, the flesh of his servants, and the blood of his enemies.

Harry suppressed his headache and stared at the crucible. Everything was going as Sebastian had told him, so Voldemort should appear next.

The fire under the crucible went out, and thick white steam rose from the crucible. In the vast vapor, a man's figure rose from the crucible. He was tall and thin, like a skeleton.

As he stepped out of the crucible, thick black smoke rose up and turned into an exquisite black robe on his body.

Voldemort was resurrected. He raised his hands in front of his eyes and moved his fingers flexibly: "It feels so good to be alive."

Then he looked at Harry and said, "Harry Potter, we meet again."

Harry was not afraid at all. He stared into the other's eyes fiercely with hatred in his heart.

Voldemort didn't care about Harry's look. He just sneered, then turned around and stretched out his hand to little Barty.

The effect of the Polyjuice Potion had worn off, and little Barty had turned back into his young self. He leaned forward and held a magic wand high in both hands.

"Master, your wand!"

Voldemort took the wand, stroked it gently, and then praised little Barty.

"Little Barty, my most loyal servant, you have done a great job."

"Master," Barty was extremely excited. He immediately fell to the ground and kissed Voldemort's robes enthusiastically. "This is what 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 severe pain and crawled to Voldemort's feet on his knees.

"You helped me gain a physical body, and you have done your job well over the past year. Voldemort will not treat his loyal servants unfairly." As he spoke, Voldemort waved his wand, and a glittering human hand appeared, which he placed on Peter's still 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 kissed Voldemort's robe enthusiastically. Only by being loyal to Voldemort could he have the opportunity to use the other's power to complete his revenge.

"Master," Little Barty began, "how do we deal with Karkaroff?"

"Humph," Voldemort said with contempt, "That traitor, his efforts over the past year have only been to atone for his sins, yet he actually dreamed of getting my forgiveness. Little Barty, how do you want to deal with him?"

"My personal grudge with him is nothing. Everything is based on the master's will," Little Batty bowed his head respectfully. "Of course, the master is in need of people now, so he can spare his life and let the other cowards rest assured."

"Cowards!" Voldemort snorted. "Stretch out your arms!"

Upon hearing the order, Barty Jr. immediately stretched out his left arm and rolled up his sleeve to his elbow, revealing the Dark Mark on it.

Voldemort stretched out his wand and lightly tapped the mark. When the wand was removed, the mark had turned as black as ink.

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

"Then let's see if those cowards dare to come back after sensing the call."