Chapter 551 Please allow me to offer my final loyalty to your great cause

Snape's task had been arranged, and Voldemort turned his attention to Barty Crouch Jr. who was standing nearby.

This most loyal follower stood quietly, waiting for his master's instructions, with a fanatical light flashing in his eyes, as if he would execute any order without hesitation.

The room fell silent again. Voldemort did not speak immediately. Instead, he looked at Little Barty and made a difficult decision.

Half a minute later, he slowly said: "Since I returned to the magic world, many things are different from what I remember. The old enemies still exist, but new variables have quietly emerged."

His eyes were deep and his tone was a little playful: "Sebastian... I only heard of this name more than ten years ago. I knew that he was a smooth and elite Auror. But now, he has grown to the point that I have to face him."

Voldemort spoke slowly, as if he was merely evaluating an experiment worth studying: "Of course, he only relied on Slytherin's legacy and his clever dragon form to barely fight me without losing."

"Dragon form..." Voldemort narrowed his scarlet eyes and said in a low voice, "I have to admit that this form is indeed unique. I was quite interested in it and read a lot of ancient magic books. I even asked Severus to find Sebastian to explore the secrets."

He shook his head slightly, with a hint of regret in his tone: "Unfortunately, in the end, we gained very little. The only thing that is certain is that the dragon form needs a unique wand to match it in order to exert its true power."

"Without a suitable wand, the so-called dragon form cannot exert its true power. Because of this, I finally gave up this path, because it is not a power that belongs to me."

Voldemort paused, a gleam of mockery flashed across his eyes: "Sebastian is lucky enough to have obtained a legacy left by Gryffindor to Slytherin. Tsk... How ironic."

As soon as he finished speaking, Little Batty took a step forward and said without hesitation: "Master! The dragon form is just a trivial skill, not worth wasting your energy! That kind of deformed power is not worthy of your greatness at all!"

His eyes burned with absolute admiration, and his voice was firm: "No matter how much Sebastian relies on his dragon form, he will never be your opponent. In front of your true power, he is just a clown who was blessed by luck."

The corners of Voldemort's mouth slightly raised, his eyes deep: "The dragon form is just a trick. We are wizards, and the real power always comes from ourselves."

"After giving up the dragon form, I set my sights on something more essential - the magic wand! Only a powerful enough magic wand can greatly improve my combat effectiveness in a short period of time and make me truly invincible."

After saying that, he turned and walked to the side of the living room and opened the window.

Under the cover of night, the backyard of the Riddle Mansion was immersed in silence. Only a tall snakewood tree stood tall in the darkness, its bark strong and its branches swaying slightly in the wind, like a giant sleeping snake, quietly lying dormant, waiting for its owner's call.

"Little Barty," Voldemort said softly, gazing at the giant tree in the yard, "Do you remember this tree?"

Little Barty then stepped forward, his eyes also falling on the tree, and his tone was filled with a trace of awe: "Of course I remember, Master. This is your snakewood staff. At that time, you used the snake language to guide its growth. In just a few minutes, it grew from a magic wand into a towering tree. I still remember how shocking the scene was."

Voldemort nodded slightly. "The snakewood staff - Slytherin's own wand. Unlike those legendary wands, it is not out of reach, but a powerful weapon that actually exists in the world."

He slowly stretched out his hand, his fingertips brushing across the windowsill, as if touching a past memory: "It is very powerful, and I once thought it was the most suitable wand for me. Until the confrontation at the Ministry of Magic, I witnessed Dumbledore's power with my own eyes and experienced the unparalleled power of that wand personally -"

"At that moment, I realized that the so-called legends were not all false."

Voldemort turned around and praised Barty Jr., "With your help, I got Dumbledore's wand - the legendary Elder Wand. Only such a wand can help me defeat powerful enemies."

"Master, this is what I should do!"

"Tonight, I will try my best to kill Sebastian, but..." He paused and said softly, "I have encountered a problem, Batty."

"Owner?"

Voldemort gently raised the Elder Wand, his slender fingers gracefully grasping the shaft, as if he were manipulating an exquisite baton. Under the light, the surface of the wand glowed faintly, like a work of art full of historical atmosphere.

"The Elder Wand, the Wand of Destiny, the Deathstick," he whispered in a misty and deep voice, "Each name indicates its power, and there are countless legends about it. But Barty, do you know that it has no effect on me?"

Barty was slightly startled, a look of confusion on his face: "Master? I don't understand. You have used this wand to perform advanced magic, haven't you? A few days ago in Gringotts, you used it to fight Sebastian, and I saw with my own eyes that your spells were extremely powerful."

“No.” Voldemort shook his head slightly, a hint of indifference in his voice, “That is only my own strength. I just used the magic I usually cast. It is me who is powerful, not it.”

He lowered his head and his eyes fell on the old wand between his fingers: "This wand, it does not show the miracle it should have, just like when it was in Dumbledore's hand."

"Strictly speaking, the Elder Wand is only slightly stronger than the yew wand I bought from Ollivander many years ago. And compared to the serpentwood wand...it is even inferior."

As he spoke, he began to pace back and forth in the room, thinking and pondering. The corner of his robe lightly brushed the ground, making a low friction sound in the silence of the room.

"I kept asking myself, why? Why is the Elder Wand unwilling to exert its true power? Why doesn't it work miracles for its owner as the legend says?"

"Until I read a lot of ancient books and traced its history. Finally, I finally understood the key."

Voldemort stopped pacing and cast a deep gaze on little Barty.

"Bati, the Elder Wand is unwilling to serve me because I am not its true master. It only obeys the wizard who killed its previous master, and you..." He paused, his scarlet eyes flickering slightly under the light, "You are the one who killed Dumbledore."

"Master... Master," Barty's pupils suddenly shrank, as if he had lost focus in an instant, and he was stunned. His lips trembled, and his voice became slightly hoarse, "You mean... as long as I am alive, the Elder Wand will not truly submit to you?"

"That's right." Voldemort had a blank expression on his face, his voice cold and calm, "I must completely conquer this wand. I need its power to kill Sebastian, to fight Grindelwald, and to conquer the entire wizarding world."

Barty's face turned pale in an instant, and his fingertips trembled slightly. But the next second, his eyes suddenly became fanatical, and a kind of extreme piety appeared on his face.

He suddenly fell to his knees, raised his head, his eyes flashing with a fiery light, and almost shouted excitedly.

"Master! If my life can help you accomplish your great cause, please take it!"

He took a deep breath, and a hint of arrogant smile appeared on the corner of his mouth: "I originally belonged to you! Everything I have is yours. It was you who gave me a new life, freed me from my father's control, and made me your most loyal servant. Now, if my death can exchange for your true invincibility, it will be my greatest honor!"

His eyes were full of fanaticism, without any fear, and even with a hint of pride. He straightened his back, as if waiting for the final coronation.

Voldemort stared at the other person in silence, with a complex emotion in his heart. He always prided himself on being cold and ruthless, but at this moment, his fingers curled slightly, almost without him noticing.

Barty the Younger was his most loyal subordinate, the first Death Eater to welcome his return, the one who was willing to wait for him for more than a decade, risk lurking in Hogwarts, and even risking his father's life to help him resurrect. Voldemort was always ruthless, but it would be a lie to say that he had no feelings for Barty the Younger.

He had known the rules of the Elder Wand's recognition of its master for a long time, but he had been procrastinating and had not taken action. But now, he had no choice.

Little Barty looked at Voldemort with a pious smile on his face and his hands open, as if welcoming the arrival of fate.

"Master, please allow me to offer my final loyalty to your great cause."

Looking directly into Barty Jr.'s eyes, Voldemort slowly raised the Old Wand in his hand, as if he was performing a sacred ritual.

"Bati, I will bury you in the backyard of the Riddle Mansion so that you can witness my great deeds."

"Avada Kadawa!"

A green light suddenly flashed in the dim room. Little Batty's figure suddenly paused, and he slowly fell to the ground with a pious smile.

Voldemort stared at him in silence for a long time, then waved his wand and used Transfiguration to create a coffin and put little Barty inside.

"Bati, after you win, I will help you hold a grand funeral."

Having said that, he strode out of the room, came to the courtyard in front of Riddle Mansion, and gave orders to the neatly arranged Death Eaters.

"Let's go to the new city of Hogsmeade..."