I became Voldemort

Chapter 221: I want glory to bow down to me!

"Finite Incantatem!"

Boot quickly cast a spell, dispelling the golden apparition.

After the illusion vanished, Fontaine and the other wizards finally breathed a sigh of relief.

"He left that shadow on purpose," Agilbert Fontaine said in a grave tone.

Even so, the mere gaze from the illusion had such terrifying power, like a mountain pressing down on their shoulders, making it hard to breathe. It was unimaginable what it would be like if Cyrus were to appear before them in person.

Fontana even feared that if Cyrus were to stand before him, he might be unable to resist kneeling in reverence before that king-like figure.

But then, Boot's words turned Fontana's fear into reality.

The old wizard's mouth was slightly agape, his lips trembling, and the hand gripping his wand shook uncontrollably. Sweat trickled down the deep lines of his furrowed brow as he seemed consumed by boundless terror.

In a raspy voice, he muttered, "It's too late... he's here..."

At that moment, it felt as though even the air had frozen.

The heads of the houses were momentarily blank, unable to comprehend who Boot meant by "he." Or perhaps, they had already guessed but simply couldn't bring themselves to admit it.

"We need to get the students back inside the castle!"

Boot didn't answer their questions. His face was pale, his entire body trembling as he quickly headed back toward the castle.

In the next moment, heavy storm clouds gathered from the distant horizon, like an army surrounding Ilvermorny from all sides.

Boom!

Before Boot could make it back to the castle, thunder and lightning crashed down!

Massive golden wings spread across the entire mountain peak, and from within the storm clouds, a gigantic Thunderbird descended. Its golden wings shimmered like mist, transforming into delicate streams of light that fell like a rain of blossoms.

In full view of Boot—and the thousands of Ilvermorny students watching—the Thunderbird shifted into the form of a tall and handsome man.

Boot froze mid-step, his breath nearly stopping.

"Cyrus?!"

No one dared make a move, not even Boot, the headmaster of Ilvermorny, who had inherited Isolt's legacy—his ancestors being her two adopted sons.

"I'm pleased you recognize me, 'sir'."

Cyrus arrogantly lifted his chin, his fiery golden eyes gleaming, and no one dared meet his gaze.

Oddly, no one found his attitude inappropriate; it felt as though he was naturally meant to speak this way, as if they were destined to bow their heads, unable to meet the eyes of a god.

"This saves me the trouble of introductions," Cyrus continued. As he spoke, he flipped his palm upward, and a small, dark green snake slithered from his sleeve, slowly transforming into a wand.

"I assume you don't mind me taking what rightfully belongs to me?" Cyrus glanced at them with a playful smirk. It sounded like a question, but it was more of a threat.

In truth, after taking the snakewood wand, Cyrus hadn't left at all.

He had been waiting for this moment—to make a grand entrance and give them a show of force!

The snakewood wand had only been part of Cyrus's plan; Ilvermorny itself was something he desired just as much.

Of course, he could have done as he had before with the auror—simply become the headmaster of Ilvermorny. But now, there was no need for disguise. The world deserved to see his true face!

The dark-skinned witch gasped audibly upon hearing his words. Cyrus saw her broad nostrils flare as if she wanted to say something, but she remained silent, overwhelmed by the power emanating from him.

The tension in the air was heavier than the dark thunderclouds above, thick like blood, suffocating everyone present.

Thousands of young wizards hid inside the castle, feeling an overwhelming pressure in their chests, as if they were sinking into a swamp, on the verge of being swallowed whole.

Even breathing felt like a luxury they could barely afford.

No one dared to speak; they only stared from afar at Cyrus's back.

As for the wizards standing in front of him, they felt the full brunt of his nearly tangible magical power.

"Sir—"

As the headmaster, Boot finally spoke.

He trembled as he took a small step forward, like a servant paying homage to his sovereign.

"Since the snakewood wand is a relic of Mr. Slytherin, and you are simply reclaiming what is rightfully yours, there is, of course, no issue."

Cyrus curled his lips into a faint smile.

He wasn't surprised at all that Boot would say this.

What else could someone facing an unstoppable force of nature like Cyrus say?

If Cyrus had come today to harm the students, Butte would have sacrificed himself to stop him. But for an ancient tree? Boot didn't see the wisdom in clashing with him over that.

Boot himself was a top-tier wizard, or he wouldn't have become the headmaster. Yet, in front of Cyrus, he felt as though he was standing before a vast, uncontrollable ocean.

Perhaps only Dumbledore could rival him? Boot couldn't help thinking.

Now, he only hoped that after taking the wand, Cyrus would leave.

But his hopes were dashed.

As Cyrus toyed with the wand in his hand, he seemed to remember something and spoke, "Isolt Sayre, the founder of Ilvermorny, was also a descendant of Slytherin. Given that, it wouldn't be unreasonable for me, as someone with the same Slytherin bloodline, to take over as headmaster of Ilvermorny, would it?"

The statement struck like a thunderclap, exploding in the ears of everyone present!

No one had expected Cyrus's true aim to be the Ilvermorny School itself!

At that moment, not just the professors but even the students in the castle felt a surge of humiliation. They all wished they could grab their wands and rush out to confront Cyrus.

"This is absolutely impossible!" the chocolate-skinned witch roared, her eyes wide with fury, teeth clenched in defiance!

Fontaine also drew his wand, seemingly ready to duel Cyrus at any moment.

But Boot remained calm.

He looked at Cyrus's unnaturally young face, shook his head, and said in a deep voice, "To become the headmaster of Ilvermorny, it's not just about receiving a nomination. More importantly, you must be recognized by the castle itself!"

"Is that so?" Cyrus raised an eyebrow slightly, and in the next moment, to the disbelief of everyone present, he raised the wand in his hand high!

The next second—RooOOOooaaar!!

A resounding beastly roar echoed from the castle's circular hall. A wildcat statue, more majestic than a lion, was the first to leap out from within the castle!

Following it, a thunderbird took flight, wings flapping, accompanied by the sound of arrows!

Finally, a horned serpent stood tall, the jewel on its forehead shining brighter than the stars in the sky!

It slithered up to Cyrus, bowing its noble head before him!

At that moment, all the castle's glory bowed in submission to Cyrus!

_________

12 Advance Chapters—