After a pause, he said again, "But I don’t think he will completely forget , that person is as stubborn as a rock. If you need, I’m always willing to kill him!"
"No need," said baby Voldemort comfortably. "He is still useful to us, keeping him in this state is just right. The spell in the Brain Hall was very successful, there is no need to worry that he will expose us."
Barty Crouch Jr. looked at the snake-faced infant beside him with admiration and said in a low voice, "It’s said that even the Unspeakables in the Departnt of Mysteries dare not use the Brain Hall to alter the consciousness of the wizard community, yet you know how to utilize it... If Grindelwald were as erudite and fearless as you, perhaps he wouldn’t have failed ti and again."
Baby Voldemort let out a laugh and said, "Grindelwald’s cause was built on the tide of Muggle warfare. Once the Muggle governnt he allied with declared defeat, his cause was inevitably dood—even the Brain Hall couldn’t change that."
In the distance, the manor was very quiet, looking like a static painting. The waiting ti was too dull, and baby Voldemort did not mind talking a bit more with his most loyal subordinate.
"You know, Barty, when I was young, I once worked at Borgin and Burkes. Though it wasn’t a decent job, it allowed to co into contact with many hidden, ancient secrets."
"So impoverished noble descendants even sold their treasured magic books for money, and a precious research note was finally exchanged for only 2 Galleons and 13 Sickles."
Baby Voldemort sneered, "Its owner was once an Unspeakable who researched the Brain Hall, understanding that place better than anyone. But among all who ca into contact with that note, only I... recognized its value."
Barty Crouch Jr. listened attentively to Voldemort’s past, whether it was this person’s forr humble employnt or acquiring priceless notes at a very low cost, none of it caused his expression to change at all.
Unlike those who beca Death Eaters due to their admiration for violence, pursuit of fa, fortune, status, or desire for destruction and killing, Barty Crouch Jr.’s loyalty to Voldemort was very pure.
Even if Voldemort beca his current weak and ugly form, exposing an inner vileness matching his current appearance, this extre loyalty was not shaken in the slightest.
Baby Voldemort changed his sitting position and said, "The Brain Hall can silently alter a person’s consciousness but cannot excessively violate personal will."
"If Grindelwald wanted to use the Brain Hall to make all the world’s wizards loyal to him, it would not only have no effect, but he himself would beco a shell of a person, an idiot."
"It can only be used to change so subtle, imperceptible thoughts—like, making everyone unconsciously ignore two people universally recognized as long dead."
He flashed a smug smile and said, "So, while those guys fight tooth and nail, we can leisurely watch the show. Until we are ready for my resurrection, and all loyal subordinates have returned to my side. By that ti..."
Voldemort did not continue, rely smiling as he reached out and stroked the head of the large snake, Nagini, beside him.
Barty Crouch Jr. glanced enviously at Nagini, but realizing it was just a brainless beast, he quickly regained his composure.
"I will definitely bring Harry Potter to you, my Lord,"
Barty Crouch Jr. said calmly, "—no matter what risks I face."
—And then kill all those traitors and cowards!
Harry Potter belonged to his master, but what Barty Crouch Jr. hated most were those trash who never tried to find the Dark Lord.
When Barty Crouch Jr. was imprisoned by his father, dizzied and unaware of the passage of ti, each montary clarity burned with the desire to return to the Dark Lord’s side.
But what about those who evaded the law’s sanction? They continued to enjoy comfortable and affluent lives, never contributing even a bit for the Dark Lord, leaving their master’s soul to wander miserably in the forest, living a fate worse than death.
"I won’t let you take lethal risks, my child. It’s incredibly important for that you remain alive." Baby Voldemort said kindly, "Be patient, the opportunity will co..."
Suddenly, sensing sothing, he whispered, "They’re here!"
Before the words fell, space several hundred ters from the manor suddenly seed to twist, the air forming swirling vortices, and soon, a large number of silhouettes erged.
A shrill, piercing alarm echoed through the manor, a sea of heads sward, and countless figures poured out from those seemingly quiet houses.
"Looks like they can’t ambush us," Voldemort propped his head with one hand and laughed, gloating, "The other side was prepared long ago, Dumbledore is on his way... Haha, now this is interesting."
"Boom!"
Amidst the deafening explosion, a missile shot forth with a sharp whistle and a scorching tail fla towards the gathering place of the Witch Pure Party.
...
"Boom—boom—boom—"
Huge sparks exploded above the manor one after another, hot air streams blasted in all directions, and faintly you could see so charred objects being flung outward.
Machine guns sprayed bullets like torrential rain, but the leading dark wizard suddenly jabbed his magic wand into the ground, conjuring an enormous, invisible shield from thin air, protecting all his companions.
The wizards using Portkeys a step too late also appeared one after another, the manor’s periphery a mass of silhouettes, like a mourning flock of crows.
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