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Even the Bravestarr Potion, powerful enough to turn ordinary humans into little supermen in an instant, was not Dudley's most satisfying work.
He still had an even stronger trump card.
Unfortunately, it did not seem useful here.
The main reason was that these wizards were too weak. They looked intimidating because there were many of them, but their actual combat ability was poor.
They had no powerful spells to speak of, and very few of them could fight properly.
Forget Dudley. Even Sirius, who had not touched a wand for twelve years, could probably fight five of these wizards at once.
After several back-and-forth charges, a large group of wizards fell.
No.
They were not Death Eaters.
Dudley thought silently.
No matter how poor a Death Eater's level was, they were at least wizards measured against Aurors. Most Death Eaters were imprisoned in Azkaban, and the ones left outside held high positions. They would not possibly stand out like this and make trouble directly.
Then there was only one possibility.
Dudley's eyes narrowed.
These people were expendable decoys.
A feint.
Their true objective was not Harry either.
"Morsmordre!"
As if to prove his thought, a cold voice cut across the sky from the distant woods, lowering the temperature around them.
In the darkness, something enormous and glittering green emerged. It leapt above the treetops and shot straight into the sky.
The sky was dyed green.
It was a vast skull made of countless emerald star-like lights. A huge serpent protruded from the skull's mouth, like a tongue being spat out.
Under the pitch-black night sky, the green glow looked like a new constellation.
At that moment, every wizard outside froze and stared at the sky. Looking at that mark, memories of terror they had nearly forgotten surged back into their hearts.
Even among the attacking wizards, quite a few cries of fear broke out.
More than ten years ago, when Voldemort was at his strongest, Death Eaters left a sign after committing evil acts.
It was the mark above them now, the skull with a serpent for a tongue.
The Dark Mark.
And now, a single mark was enough to bring panic back to the entire wizarding world.
The Dark Mark was not merely a mark. It represented Voldemort himself.
It announced to the world that he had returned.
The wizards who had gathered together scattered the moment the Dark Mark appeared, as if they had seen something unimaginably terrifying.
Dudley had called this group a disorganized crowd, yet even when Harry and Neville charged through them again and again, they had not reacted much and had even tried to fight back. The Dark Mark, however, frightened them out of their courage.
This time, even the wizards who had originally hidden in their tents could no longer stay calm after seeing the mark overhead.
At that moment, the wizards finally remembered the fear of once being ruled by Voldemort.
Cries, shouts, and screams rang into the sky. The entire campsite became even more chaotic. Wizards rushed out of tents in panic, using every method they had, whether Portkeys or Apparition, trying everything possible to escape.
Voldemort's terror and influence truly were not limited to Britain alone.
That was merely where the story took place.
Someone who could frighten one hundred thousand wizards into fleeing in panic, someone whose name alone could make the European wizarding world collectively fall silent for twelve years, someone whose name people feared to speak even in private, was no ordinary Dark wizard.
Of course, some wizards did not leave.
The wizard hiding in the forest, the one responsible for summoning the Dark Mark, gave a cold smile.
"The Dark Lord will return soon!"
"You are all finished. Hahaha..."
With that, he turned to leave. His mission here was already complete.
"Petrificus Totalus!"
A spell shot over and struck the shouting wizard. He fell rigidly to the ground.
Carrow had arrived with a group of wizards.
"Where is our Minister Fudge?"
Dudley looked around and said, "This should be the moment for him to play his role."
"After that thing appeared in the sky, no one knows where he ran off to."
Carrow pointed to the image in the sky as he spoke.
His tone was full of disdain.
But when he looked at the green image overhead, even though he said nothing, a tremor still flashed through his heart.
They had all grown up listening to stories about Voldemort.
The only ones who truly did not fear him were Harry and Dudley.
Dudley raised his head and looked at the enormous image. Such a good opportunity to build reputation could not be wasted.
"What are you afraid of? A half-dead fugitive?"
The Dark Mark was not merely the Dark Mark.
The incantation for the spell was Morsmordre.
Judging by the name alone, no one would think this was a proper spell.
In truth, the spell was Dark Magic.
Once successfully released, it could not be easily undone.
In the past, the Ministry had spent great effort to remove a single Dark Mark.
Its effect was to wrap every living creature in range with an aura of fear.
Voldemort's arrival came with the birth of the Dark Mark. The appearance of the Dark Mark brought more fear. Fear deepened people's impression of Voldemort.
A perfect loop. Over time, Voldemort became a taboo in the hearts of wizards.
"Then..."
Dudley pointed his wand at the skull in the sky.
"It is useless."
Even though his body had been struck by the Body-Bind Curse, the wizard still shouted, his tone full of provocation.
"You have no way to deal with it except waiting for it to fade on its own."
"The Dark Lord's spell cannot be undone!"
His excited expression and fanatical joy made him look like a typical Death Eater zealot.
Except for his dull, unfocused eyes.
Dudley knew how difficult it was to erase the Dark Mark in the sky. Even with his current magical level, removing it in a short time would not be easy.
'But I, Dursley, do enjoy cutting arrogant people down to size.'
If the magic was too difficult, he could use another method.
Dudley lightly waved his wand.
A huge sword appeared in the sky. Its shape faintly resembled the Sword of Gryffindor. Golden light illuminated half the sky, like a rising sun, warm and bright, filling people with strength and making the Dark Mark's green glow far less frightening.
"Is that so? Then try my Radiant Sword."
As he spoke, Dudley brought down his wand.
The wizards who had been fleeing, or preparing to flee, stopped one after another and raised their heads to look at the sky.
They were waiting for the result.
"It is useless..."
The moment the sword fell, the wizard's mocking voice stopped.
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