In the open space, there was only the sound of gasping and groaning in pain, lingering in the air.
Elwyn opened his eyes and watched everything quietly. It was almost done, only the last step was left.
The man staggered in front of them. Blood had already dyed his black robe red.
He ignored it completely, letting the blood splatter, a last trace of madness flashed across his face.
"The blood of the enemy is forced to be sacrificed, and it can revive your enemy!" he said coldly, almost shouting with all his might.
Harry struggled in despair, trying to break free from the ropes that bound him.
Through the gaps in his eyes, he saw the silver dagger trembling in the man's single hand, stabbing towards him.
Harry was unable to move and could only watch helplessly as his opponent moved.
In the next second, he felt the dagger's tip pierce into the crook of his arm. Amid the piercing pain, blood flowed down the torn sleeve of his robe.
The man, who was still gasping in pain, trembled as he took out a small glass bottle from his pocket and placed it next to Harry's wound.
A small amount of blood flowed into the bottle. He took Harry's blood and staggered to the crucible, pouring it into it.
The liquid in the crucible immediately turned a blinding white. The sticky white liquid gave off a fishy smell.
The man finished his task and knelt beside the crucible. His body tilted and he collapsed to the ground, holding his bleeding arm and gasping for breath.
Beside him, the crucible boiled violently, sparks like diamonds splashing in all directions, so bright and dazzling.
"It's a success!" Elwyn stared closely at the stone crucible. Lord Voldemort had used Harry's blood to revive.
Harry's mother's blood curse would be used on both of them, protecting Harry and becoming incomparably powerful!
Suddenly, the sparks on the crucible all went out.
A gust of white steam rose from the crucible and blended with the surrounding fog, concealing everything.
Their senses were obscured, and the uneasy mystery grew stronger. It was a creepy feeling.
Through the thick white fog, they saw the black figure of a man slowly rising from the crucible.
He was tall and thin, like a skeleton, and his skin was pale and eerie.
"Dress me!" said the cold, shrill voice behind the steam.
The man groaning on the ground hurriedly got up, still protecting his broken arm.
He hastily snatched up the black robe wrapped in the bundle from the ground, rose, and with one hand pulled it over his master's head.
The thin man stepped out of the crucible, put on his clothes, and stared at Harry with his red eyes.
Harry saw the face that had appeared in his nightmares for the past three years. It was paler than a skeleton, with two big red eyes, a nose as flat as a snake's, and two thin slits for the nostrils.
The Lord Voldemort had been resurrected!
Lord Voldemort shifted his gaze from Harry to Elwyn, who was beside him, and began to examine his own body.
His hands were like large, pale spiders, and his long, pale fingers stroked his own body, inch by inch.
Thighs, chest, arms, and face. His movements were slow, delicate, and gentle.
The pair of red eyes were even brighter in the darkness, and the pupils were two slits, like a cat's eyes.
After slowly touching his whole face, he raised his hands and moved his fingers, his expression wild with joy.
Lord Voldemort was immersed in the joy of his new body. After so many years, he had finally been resurrected and returned to the magic world. He did not care about the man lying on the ground, bleeding and twitching, nor did he care about Elwyn, Harry, and the giant snake.
It swam back, hissing, and circled around Elwyn and Harry.
The atmosphere was strange and quiet, and time seemed to drag on.
Elwyn knew it was time to leave. The purpose of this trip had been achieved, and there was no need to let Lord Voldemort kill Harry here.
There were many things that he had not prepared, and he was not interested in staying to participate in Lord Voldemort's resurrection party.
The door key given to him by Keresis was in his pocket, and he had already activated it when he arrived.
There was still some time before they could leave this place.
If anything unexpected happened in the meantime, he could use the thing given to him by Dumbledore.
Finally, Lord Voldemort finished inspecting his new body, and seemed satisfied.
He reached his strangely long fingers into a deep pocket and pulled out a wand.
He stroked the wand lightly, then raised it high and let out a cold and sharp laugh.
"I'm back!" he said softly. "How many people still remember me!"
Lord Voldemort shook his wand, and the Mark of Dark Magic suddenly appeared in the air. A green skull spat out a snake from its mouth.
The snake flickered in the air, and became more and more obvious, rising higher and higher. Lord Voldemort looked at it carefully.
"They will all notice it. Now, we will see it, we will know." Lord Voldemort's face showed a cruel expression of satisfaction.
He straightened his back, tossed his head, and scanned the deserted clearing.
"After feeling it, how many people will have the courage to come back?" he murmured. "And how many will be stupid enough not to come back?"
He began to pace back and forth in front of Elwyn and Harry, scanning the clearing from time to time.
As for the man moaning on the ground, he did not even look at him, as if he were a useless piece of trash.
The man had used a special method to stop the bleeding, but he was still very weak and on the verge of death.
The vampire who had surrendered to Lord Voldemort did not expect his new master to be so heartless, and he begged weakly.
Elwyn watched all this coldly, counting the time, and held Harry tightly with one hand.
Suddenly, Lord Voldemort pointed his wand at the pile of things on the ground. They flew high and landed in front of Elwyn and Harry.
They were his father's ashes, one of the necessities for his resurrection, but now they had completely lost their use.
Lord Voldemort's gaze fell on Harry, and the snake's face twisted into a cruel smile.
"Harry Potter, we meet again!" he hissed softly.
He hissed softly. "These bones, they belonged to my father. He was a Muggle and a fool, just like your own mother. But they all had their uses, didn't they? When you were young, your mother died to protect you, and I killed my father. You see how useful he was after he died? "
Lord Voldemort laughed again. He paced back and forth, looking around. The snake was still wandering on the grass.
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