Voldemort was secretly shocked, but none of it showed on his face.
His gaze swept twice over Polaris, who had suddenly appeared behind him, before he said in a cold, rigid tone, "At a time like this, you still refuse to show your true face? How are we supposed to cooperate like this?"
Polaris let out a soft laugh and completely ignored Voldemort's words. Looking toward the distant stadium, he said in a slightly excited tone, "What a splendid stage, isn't it?"
A surge of anger rose in Voldemort's heart. It had been a long time since anyone dared to ignore him like this. Even Albus Dumbledore back then would not have done so!
He was no longer who he once was. Now, he was stronger than ever before. Without exaggeration, he had already grasped the power of death itself. Calling himself the God of Death would not be inappropriate.
How could anyone dare to disregard the mighty Lord Voldemort like this?
Voldemort secretly began to gather the power he had newly obtained, intending to teach his "ally" a lesson and make him understand that Lord Voldemort and the secret society were equal partners—not subservient servants!
Of course, if this Polaris could not display strength equal to his own, Voldemort would not mind renaming the secret society into the Death Eaters.
Polaris sensed the unusual movement from his suspicious ally, yet he made no move. He merely turned his head and glanced at Voldemort.
What happened next shocked Voldemort to his core: the power of death he had just begun to gather dissipated instantly.
"Power itself is not frightening. What's frightening is its master. Tom, you are still far from fully mastering this power," Polaris said calmly.
Just as the reports from below had indicated, this new ally he had found was not particularly clear-headed.
He had indeed grown stronger, but he had never once considered where his power came from, or who had granted him such strength.
The shock in Voldemort's heart was quickly replaced by boundless rage. However, after witnessing Polaris's actions just now, he did not dare to show it and could only bury it deep within himself.
After taking two deep breaths, Voldemort steadied his emotions and replied in a calm tone, "You're right. Having just been revived, I still need time to adjust to this power. Tonight is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity."
Polaris did not respond immediately.
After a few seconds, he cast Voldemort a half-smiling glance and told him to go all out tonight.
"How could those fools in the British Ministry of Magic possibly be your match?"
Hearing this, Voldemort also smiled.
Indeed, he had never regarded those idiots in the Ministry as his opponents. He had only one true enemy—Albus Dumbledore.
Polaris smiled as well, clearly in high spirits.
To him, Voldemort was nothing more than bait on a hook. He intended to use Voldemort to lure out the big fish lurking beneath the surface.
Recently, the wizarding world had felt somewhat off to him. He wondered whether those old "friends" of his were truly dead. The wizarding world was declining day by day, but whether there were still wizards who had control over the divine domain, he could not be certain. At the very least, remnants of such powerful beings still existed within Hogwarts. These were obstacles on his path, variables in his plan.
So he would let Voldemort test the waters.
If that mysterious powerhouse chose not to appear, then he would simply drive Voldemort to inflict maximum destruction upon the wizards gathered here to watch the match.
He didn't believe the elites among wizards would fail to take the bait. After all, even the previous dark lord and his subordinates had said it themselves: "Every drop of a wizard's blood is precious." This was an open scheme.
As for Voldemort, who was playing the role of bait, whether he survived would depend on his luck.
"How many people are here tonight?"
"About a hundred thousand, it's said," Aries interjected promptly, making her presence known.
Polaris let out a clicking sound of approval, then looked at Voldemort and remarked that this was a grand stage, and he had better perform well—lest he disgrace the power of death.
Voldemort nodded, his face full of confidence.
He wanted the entire wizarding world to know that Lord Voldemort had returned. He wanted everyone to submit to him, to make those traitors who had betrayed him kneel at his feet and tremble.
Just as the two were getting along well in conversation, a series of footsteps sounded from the woods. Voldemort immediately suppressed his smile and, together with Aries and Taurus, turned to look toward the source of the sound. Polaris, on the other hand, acted as if he hadn't heard anything and couldn't even be bothered to turn his head.
A puppet stepped out from the forest, instantly locking its gaze onto the four of them.
This was a construct urgently purchased by the Ministry of Magic to maintain order at the venue. Its service modules had been completely removed, and the remaining modules were kept only at their most basic level, but its patrol and detection systems had been greatly enhanced, specifically to deal with those harboring ill intentions.
[Please present your tickets.]
Voldemort and the others appeared far too suspicious, immediately triggering the puppet's defensive protocol.
"Did you buy tickets?" Polaris asked.
Aries, Voldemort: "…"
Polaris let out a sigh. These people were far too prone to causing trouble.
Seeing that the four had no intention of presenting tickets, the puppet raised its alert level and prepared to take compulsory action against them.
However, before the situation could escalate further, flames suddenly burst from the puppet's joints, and in the blink of an eye, it turned into a blazing fireball.
"Your preparations beforehand were far too crude. Would the organization really be short of money for three tickets?" Polaris reproached Aries and Taurus in a scolding tone.
Aries lowered her head.
How could she have had the mind for that earlier? Her thoughts had been entirely occupied with how to escape from Voldemort's side—she hadn't considered making a thorough plan at all.
Voldemort was even less likely to make any plans. Teleport to the stadium, launch the Dark Mark, and then start—why bother with all those unnecessary details?
Looking at the puppet that had turned into a pile of ashes, Polaris narrowed his eyes. It seemed the wizarding world had developed something remarkable. Could this thing be mass-produced? How many of them were there?
"Tom, without the support of a divine domain, how many of these puppets can you handle?"
Voldemort was instantly enraged. Polaris actually dared to compare him to such a foolish construct?!
"As many as there are. No matter how many come, they'll all be reduced to ashes by my magic."
Polaris couldn't be bothered to respond.
In his view, although he had destroyed the puppet instantly, it would not be so easy to deal with without the advantage of a divine domain. The original Voldemort might be able to handle three or five of them, but what if there were ten, twenty? How would he cope then? Voldemort was only one person, but the production of these puppets could be endless.
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12 Chaps ahead at Patreon.com/HornyFBI