readease Chapter 615 The Grand Finale
Chapter 615 The Grand Finale
Chapter 611 The Grand Finale (2)
Just then, a loud bang!
Suddenly, the dome burst open, and a sharp ray of light pierced the night like the dawn.
It illuminated half the hall!
Accompanied by a clear and melodious cry, a huge phoenix spread its wings and descended, its blazing flames dispelling the surrounding chill, and landed in the center of the hall.
Behind the phoenix was a tall and imposing figure.
His long, silvery-white beard fluttered in the wind, and his blue robe shimmered in the firelight, making him appear like an unshakeable mountain peak.
Albus Dumbledore.
Who else could it be but him?
"Tom, you shouldn't have done that."
The wizards in the hall, who were on the verge of collapse, were instantly filled with hope.
"Dumbledore—Dumbledore is here!"
Riddle's eyes narrowed slightly.
The next second—
"Avada Kedavra!"
The green light, like the Grim Reaper's scythe, sliced through the air and hurtled straight at Dumbledore.
Dumbledore flicked his wrist and immediately blocked it with his physical form.
Immediately afterwards—
A fiery dragon shot into the sky from the phoenix's flames, roaring as it rushed straight toward Voldemort!
Voldemort sneered and flicked his wand lightly.
The black mist churned and transformed into a giant black python!
The giant python and the fire dragon clashed in mid-air, flames scorching the black mist, which in turn fueled the flames, creating a deafening roar that shook the entire hall. The two attacked simultaneously once more!
Everyone was practically mesmerized.
Is this a showdown between top-tier wizards?
Compared to the duel between the two wizards, their previous struggles were more like child's play, like a child with a stick fighting against an adult with a gun.
Of course, if they knew what a gun was.
Dumbledore raised his hand, and countless stone pillars suddenly rose from the ground, transforming into sharp blades that pierced the enemy ranks! Voldemort swung his hand back, and a dark burst spell shattered all the stone spears, the fragments raining down and creating countless cracks in the ground!
Light and darkness, fire and ice, intertwined wildly in this hall.
The other wizards could only retreat far away, fearing they might accidentally hurt themselves.
Go Dumbledore!
This reflects the sentiments of most Ministry of Magic employees.
But like some kind of Murphy's Law, the more you hope for something, the less likely it is to happen.
at first-
Dumbledore's power surged like a tidal wave, forcing Voldemort back several steps!
However, just a few minutes later, the situation began to subtly reverse.
Riddle's laughter grew increasingly ferocious, and his spells poured forth like a torrential downpour, wave after wave, without pause. But Dumbledore's movements gradually slowed, and his breathing became rapid.
"What's going on?!"
Some observant people noticed the situation and cried out in alarm.
Just then, a red light flashed, and Dumbledore raised his hand to block, but his movement was a second too slow.
His sleeve was ripped, revealing his wrist.
Everyone gasped immediately.
That wrist was already covered in typhoid fever; gray marks throbbed wildly beneath the skin, indicating extreme pain.
"He—he's injured!"
No wonder—
Originally, Dumbledore had already suffered a serious wrist injury before arriving at the scene. To conceal this, he forcibly suppressed his injury and endured the confrontation with Voldemort.
But Voldemort's attacks were incredibly fierce, tearing his wounds open bit by bit, and the suppressed magic could no longer be stabilized.
Dumbledore couldn't defeat Voldemort even after more than ten years, let alone now that more than ten years have passed and he's already old, plus Riddle is stronger than Voldemort.
The ending seemed to have been predetermined.
"Albus, you can't win."
The atmosphere in the hall froze instantly.
Dumbledore held his wand high, his shoulders trembling slightly, and cold sweat dripped from his forehead down his temples.
Even so, he did not back down an inch.
"I will not back down," Dumbledore whispered.
A tragic and heroic mood has already been created.
But being tragic is of no use.
Under the onslaught, Dumbledore could no longer hold out. As Riddle's spell struck his shield, a piercing sound rang out, and Dumbledore's body was sent flying like a rag doll, crashing heavily to the ground.
The air was filled with the stench of blood.
Riddle walked step by step toward Dumbledore, a sinister smile curling at the corner of his mouth: "Albus, you are truly foolish. Do you think you can reverse the fact that I will rule all of Great Britain? Your era has come to an end."
Before securing victory, the villains always say a lot of things.
Actually, Ridell didn't really want to say—
But in this scene, he plays the villain, and therefore has to keep talking trash, stalling for time, and drawing the hatred of others.
so----
When someone comes, they can maximize their benefits.
But there wasn't nearly that much trash talk.
If only there were a teleprompter.