Chapter 1320 Voldemort, the Escape Master
The anti-material sniper rifle transformed from Pandora appeared remarkably understated in the dim light of the Department of Mysteries, but its equally exaggerated caliber muzzle exuded a menacing presence.
Regarding its power, Delisi, who was once hit by a rubber bullet, is the most qualified to speak on the matter.
With seven broken ribs, massive internal bleeding, and a severely misaligned spine, Delixi has not fully recovered even after nearly half a year.
Facing Voldemort, Vincent certainly wouldn't use rubber bullets; the bullet he loaded was a specially made mithril bullet engraved with a combination of various magic spells, such as Niven.
The black mist pointed at by the gun seemed to pause for a moment, then a cold laugh full of contempt suddenly rang out:
"Ha... a Muggle's broken toy... dares to point it at me?"
The disdain in his tone was utterly pure, as if Vincent held not a weapon capable of causing harm, but a feather that couldn't even scratch an itch, a stick that tainted the sacred battlefield of magic, a filth from the sewers.
The violence born of defeat, mixed with the humiliation of being provoked by "lowly things," coalesced into a pure killing intent.
Escape? Yes, but before leaving, Voldemort wanted to crush this annoying bug, turning its filthy blood and ridiculous "toy" to dust in the cruelest way possible.
This massacre will reaffirm his power that surpasses all others!
The black mist churned rapidly, vaguely revealing a distorted face, with two crimson spots locked onto Vincent.
Even Arthur, who was watching over the Death Eaters from afar, could feel that the surrounding air seemed to have been sucked out, leaving only the deathly aura of sulfur and metallic corrosion.
"Kid, get back!" Moody stomped his prosthetic leg heavily on the ground, trying to grab Vincent.
But Vincent did not back down at all; his finger remained firmly on the trigger.
Just then, the black doors of the prophecy hall opened.
"Tom." Dumbledore slowly walked out, the Elder Wand in his hand gleaming with a soft light.
The black mist churned, and the hideous face turned towards him.
With just a call and a glance, Voldemort's about-to-burst magical power suddenly froze, and his two crimson spots erupted with intense resentment and hatred.
Dumbledore's appearance meant that the best opportunity to kill had passed, and continuing the entanglement would only lead to an endless drain on resources.
"Let's go!" A roar filled with rage and frustration exploded in Bella and Labastan's ears.
The black mist ceased its attack and suddenly expanded, like a giant black claw, instantly enveloping the wounded Bella and Labastan.
Immediately afterwards, the thick black mist, without any hesitation, transformed into a fierce black lightning bolt and crashed into the magical barrier at the entrance of the hall with a resolute attitude.
In an instant, the Phoenix Order's carefully laid spell was blasted to pieces.
Dumbledore quickly reinforced the spell, but the black mist, combining the urgency to escape with the resentment of failing to kill, was incredibly powerful, and the door that was hit cracked like glass.
"boom--!!!"
The specially made mithril bullets pierced the black mist with precision at a speed imperceptible to the naked eye.
"Ugh—" A short, muffled groan came from behind.
Although there was no violent explosion, everyone knew that Vincent's attack had worked and that the bullet could harm Voldemort.
The churning black mist trembled violently, its edges crumbling, but it did not stop its onslaught.
Vincent quickly cocked the gun, and without any unnecessary movements, decisively pulled the trigger.
The silver trail flashed by, then plunged deep into the black mist once more.
“You filthy little mud-blood…how dare you…!” Boundless hatred and murderous intent swept through the entire hall.
Vincent remained unaffected and continued to steadily pull the trigger.
The black mist surged instantly, and everyone thought it would retaliate, including Vincent, but instead it rammed into the gate with an even more frenzied attack.
"Boom—" The sturdy door finally shattered completely.
The Elder Wand in Dumbledore's hand burst forth with a dazzling silver light, lashing out at the black mist like a whip.
Another muffled groan, and Voldemort's extremely furious face flashed in the black mist.
The malice in his scarlet eyes seemed to materialize as he shrieked and charged into the shadows outside, disappearing without a trace, leaving only a few wisps of thin black mist and the nauseating aura of black magic.
“We can’t catch up.” Dumbledore slowly put down the Elder Wand, looking at the empty corridor outside, his face devoid of any joy of victory.
Vincent loosened his grip, and the Pandora he had been holding transformed back into its original gunmetal-colored briefcase.
Compared to the Dark Lord, the title "Escape Master" seems more suitable for Voldemort.
The hall was a mess. Lupin was panting, leaning on his knees. Sirius was frowning. Moody was staring intently at the remaining black mist. Arthur pointed his wand at the "mummy" on the wall again.
They successfully stopped Voldemort, but left behind a mess.
“Cornell needs to know what happened tonight.” Dumbledore’s voice clearly reached everyone’s ears. “Tom personally infiltrated the Ministry of Magic with the Prophecy Orb in his sights. This is no longer a crisis that can be handled in secret. The wizarding world needs to know what they are facing.”
His expression was extremely solemn. "As Minister of Magic, Cornelius must open his eyes and face reality."
"And then what, Professor?" A discordant voice broke the silence; it was Vincent. "Hope Fudge suddenly realizes his mistake? Cries and admits it with tears streaming down his face? Cooperates with you and the Order of the Phoenix to fight Voldemort?"
He took a few steps forward, his feet crunching over some broken pieces of the door.
“You believe that there is always a good side to human nature, and that even when blinded by the lust for power, conscience will always awaken in the face of sufficient evidence and crisis. I respect this belief, but it does not apply to people like Cornelius Fudge.”
Vincent's gaze sharpened as he met Dumbledore's eyes. "Look at what he's done over the past year. After the Triwizard Tournament, he ignored your warnings and turned the Ministry of Magic into his personal fiefdom. He'd rather accuse me of being the Dark Lord who colluded with Dementors than acknowledge Voldemort's return."
Why? Because acknowledging Voldemort's return would mean acknowledging the failure of his past policies, and it would mean his power base would be shaken. For someone like him, the stability of power is far more important than right or wrong, or the truth.
Dumbledore fell silent; the Fudge of today was indeed not the Fudge he knew.
Even if you bring evidence to him, he won't see irrefutable proof of Voldemort's invasion. Instead, he'll only see Dumbledore, together with the most wanted criminal Vincent, staging a grand attack on the Department of Mysteries.
The destruction of the Prophecy Hall and the other two halls? That's the best proof of Vincent the Dark Lord's atrocities!
……
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