Chapter 290: Voldemort: Dumbledore can be a warrior, but I can’t?

    Dumbledore grasped Fudge''s chubby hand, displaying a friendly demeanor.

    However, this gesture immediately shifted the reporters'' attention to him.

    "Mr. Dumbledore, I''ve heard that your relationship with Grindelwald is somewhat unusual. Is that true?" a reporter, also from France, asked.

    It seemed possible he had Voldemort''s tacit approval to deliberately embarrass Dumbledore.

    "At the Christmas Ball a few months ago, were you not seen dancing with the Dark wizard Grindelwald?" The reporter smirked coldly, his Quick-Quotes Quill hovering nearby, ready to capture every word.

    It seemed that if Dumbledore uttered even a single response, the reporter would embellish the details to the fullest extent.

    But someone wasn''t about to let this go unchallenged.

    "And what is it you wish to know?"

    Unnoticed until now, Grindelwald had entered the Great Hall.

    His silver magical eye radiated an intense, mesmerizing power, and his formidable magic instantly enveloped the reporter.

    In that brief moment, the temperature in the Great Hall seemed to drop.

    The reporter, feeling as though a ferocious beast had locked its gaze on him, froze, momentarily forgetting how to breathe.

    However, Grindelwald ultimately refrained from acting. Instead, he let out a cold, disdainful laugh and exchanged a subtle glance with Dumbledore before making his way to his seat.

    Grindelwald''s sudden appearance brought immense pressure to everyone present.

    It had to be said—many reporters were here specifically because of him.

    The Dark wizard who once shook the world, who had faked his death just a few months ago, was now brazenly appearing in the tournament as a champion. Who knew what secret schemes he might be plotting? Yet, intimidated by his aura, no one present dared to question Grindelwald.

    Fortunately, at that moment, Dumbledore stepped forward to the front of the table. His gaze swept over the crowd, and under his watchful eyes, all the noise in the hall faded away. The Great Hall fell silent, leaving only the sound of the Goblet of Fire crackling.

    Cyrus, meanwhile, gently stroked Nagini as he watched the scene unfold with great interest, as if finding the experience novel and entertaining.

    "Thank you all for coming to Hogwarts to witness the final task of the Triwizard Tournament," Dumbledore said in a clear, resonant voice that echoed across every corner of the hall.

    "Up until now, the tournament has faced many challenges. I would like to express my gratitude to Cornelius, who has continued to support me," Dumbledore said.

    At this moment, the eyes of the entire wizarding world seemed to be upon him.

    Fudge stepped aside, giving way by half a step, inwardly marveling at "Maxime''s" imposing size.

    "Of course,"

    Barty Jr.''s expression grew increasingly manic.

    He approached the Goblet of Fire and tossed a slip of paper into the flames.

    At that moment, most people assumed he had entered his own name. The unusually large Beauxbatons headmistress was stepping up personally to defend the honor of her school!

    But they were all wrong.

    After tossing the name into the Goblet, Barty Jr., to everyone''s astonishment, dropped to one knee. He raised both hands high in the air, as though welcoming a deity.

    "Come forth, my revered Dark Lord!"

    "The Goblet of Fire calls upon your noble name!"

    Whoosh!

    In an instant—

    The flames of the Goblet of Fire spiraled upward, shooting toward the ceiling of the Great Hall like a vortex!

    Beneath the starry, glittering canopy, the blue flames exploded like fireworks, leaving behind a dazzling name.

    —Voldemort!

    And beneath those flames, a figure dressed in dark green robes slowly emerged from the shadows.

    He walked alone, stepping through the Great Hall, passing by everyone present. As he moved, a chilling current swirled around him, causing those nearby to shiver. The air in his wake felt as if magical serpents were coiling around throats, suffocating and oppressive.

    Now, he stood before the Goblet of Fire, surrounded by dozens of masked figures who knelt at his feet.

    He pulled back the hood of his robe, revealing his handsome face.

    "I hear someone has been saying that I''m dead?"

    _________

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