Black Mark, one of Voldemort's proudest self-created spells.

Perhaps in the eyes of most wizards, it is merely a terrifying symbol floating at the scene of a crime.

However, Voldemort's followers knew that the Dark Mark had an even more important meaning—to mark the Death Eaters.

The Ministry of Magic habitually referred to all forces following and attached to Voldemort as Death Eaters, but in fact, within the "Dark Magic Forces," only the most loyal and outstanding wizards were qualified to become Death Eaters. As a symbol of identity and loyalty, Voldemort would personally brand a magical Dark Mark on the inside of their arms.

In addition to being a symbol of honor, the more important function of this mark was to be able to summon the Dark Lord at any time, or to listen to the Dark Lord's summons at any time and anywhere.

From the magical analysis of the Isle of the Succubi, the Dark Mark imprinted on the human body does not care who the host's true identity is.

Theoretically, the Dark Mark can appear on any human, half-human, beast, livestock, or even Voldemort himself.

On the other hand, the suspicious and arrogant Voldemort never truly trusted any wizard. The magical induction of the Dark Mark was limited to a "single-line" connection between him and the Death Eaters.

Without forming an open "LAN," Voldemort's soul imprint was equivalent to the permission to send group messages.

Although the Horcruxes cannot be equated with the main soul, after a series of tests, these basic permissions still existed, which was the biggest reason why Dumbledore and Grindelwald were willing to put on such a show.

Compared to the imaginary enemy facing them in the sunlight, the turncoats hidden in the dark were obviously more terrifying and dangerous—the matter of the leak of information about Elena had not yet been clarified. If the Heavenly Mandate Group wanted to continue lurking in the shadows, it was best to ensure that there was no one else hiding in the shadows. Dumbledore did not want to see a second case similar to Barty Crouch's capture.

Undoubtedly, there were still many Voldemort supporters lurking in the wizarding world, and this trap was their last chance to clear their identities.

Dumbledore stared at "Riddle-033," who looked like a skeleton not far away, and felt a chill in his heart as he watched him actively stimulate the Dark Mark.

From the moment this guy got up in the cauldron, his every step was within Elena's plan. The once invincible dark wizard was like a puppet in the hands of that little witch.

If he hadn't repeatedly confirmed that the child's goals and bottom line were trustworthy, he would have even suspected that he had personally opened a Pandora's Box that would destroy the world—compared to Gellert Grindelwald and Tom Riddle, Elena was like the king of hell himself when it came to playing with people's hearts and overwhelming them with her kingly aura, but she was still wearing an angelic face and identity.

However, just like those former Soviet researchers working in the Academy City, Elena offered a bargaining chip that he and Grindelwald could not refuse.

As "Riddle-033" imprinted the Dark Mark on himself and summoned his followers, everything finally began to come to an end.

As the final controller of this farce, the most important thing for Dumbledore now was to perform perfectly.

Dumbledore collected his thoughts and quietly waved his wand towards the door behind him, while hurriedly saying in a serious tone.

"Gellert, be careful—something is wrong! The surrounding magic seems to be turbulent! There may be a trap!"

Almost at the same moment he spoke, the dark black magical veil that had enveloped the Lestrange family's mansion fell like catkins.

And when they were about to reach the eaves, as if they had touched some strange magical restriction, strands of them vibrated and decomposed into wisps of magical fragments that dissipated.

Powerful magical fluctuations escaped as the magical veil disintegrated, as if hundreds of people were casting spells on the Lestrange family. The tyrannical magical fluctuations swept across the surroundings in an instant.

As for the three wizards located in the center of the magic storm, their expressions changed in unison, and they raised their wands warily, looking around as if facing a formidable enemy.

"What did you just do! You despicable dark wizard!"

Before Voldemort could speak, Grindelwald suddenly turned his head to look at him and shouted righteously.

The old wizard waved his wand quickly around him, his eyes wandering over the other two people from time to time, perfectly interpreting what it meant to be an angry old man caught up in a conspiracy.

Under Grindelwald's prompting, Dumbledore's expression quickly darkened as well. He frowned and looked around at the walls, constantly tapping his wand, creating circles of ripples in the void.

This magic…

Some kind of magical trap?!

Compared to the other two old wizards in the room, the "culprit" Voldemort's reaction was a few seconds slower.

Ignoring the question of the mediocre old man, he looked gloomy, his crimson eyes narrowed slightly, carefully observing the surrounding environment.

Obviously, the mysterious wizards hiding behind the scenes and manipulating everything were more cautious than he had imagined. Even when "sending gifts," they did not reveal any flaws.

As for the magical fluctuations that surged around this house, Voldemort was not too surprised—the other party chose this place as the "game" venue, so naturally they would arrange and布置 some things in advance. The only thing that puzzled him was how that group of mysterious wizards observed this place. If he could find a way to drag the other party into the melee, then his hope of escaping could be increased by several percent.

"Dumbledore, I told you, you've been deceived! We've all been used!"

Voldemort said viciously, looking at the old wizard with a solemn expression not far away, and sneered disdainfully.

"This is a trap. Someone is deliberately pushing us to fight each other—even if you catch me, what use will it be? The outside world has long been out of control."

"Dark Lord, stop bluffing here. This is all your doing!"

Grindelwald shouted angrily, while inwardly praising his granddaughter's divine calculations, and righteously cursing.

"Do you think you can trap us? I'm telling you, the Aurors will arrive here soon! Your petty tricks are simply not worth mentioning in front of Mr. Dumbledore!"

"Oh? Heh…"

Voldemort snorted softly, a cruel smile rising at the corner of his mouth.

"Dumbledore doesn't seem to think so, does he? You're also afraid of a lose-lose situation, aren't you?"

He looked around, focusing most of his attention on the silent Hogwarts headmaster.

As top wizards, he believed that Dumbledore had also noticed something was wrong.

Otherwise, he would have already taken action. Just the overflowing magical fluctuations were enough to know that this magical trap was not to be underestimated.

Of course, he didn't intend to explain what he had just done. Voldemort was now thinking more about how to delay as much time as possible.

The Aurors' arrival speed would definitely not be as fast as his loyal servants. After all, activating the Dark Mark's summons could reach all Death Eaters in real time.

With clear directional guidance, all Death Eaters had to Apparate to his side at the first moment, otherwise they would be regarded as traitors. He was not sure how many people would have the courage to come after ten years, but even if only a third of his servants arrived, the situation would quickly turn around one hundred and eighty degrees, and he even considered whether to try to kill Dumbledore.

"Didn't you say that the Aurors would be back soon? I guess your informant didn't tell you there was a magical trap here, right?"

Voldemort's snake face twisted, trying to pry more information from Dumbledore's mouth.

He hissed softly, his red eyes looking around, as if searching for some invisible shadows.

"Then why don't we wait and see? Anyway, I can't escape your grasp. Aren't you curious about what the person who set the trap wants to achieve?"

"No, she told me this was a trap—"

Dumbledore said calmly, opened his pocket watch and looked at it a few times, and couldn't help but have a bit of pity in his eyes when he looked at Voldemort.

"However, the target of this trap is neither me nor you... Tom, this is the end."

"What are you saying—" Voldemort's scarlet pupils contracted violently.

"Gellert, end this as soon as possible."

Dumbledore sighed and did not continue to explain. He walked to the window in the living room as if no one else was there, and looked towards the small forest in the distance where shadows of people were flashing.

Although he knew that "Riddle-033" could not even be considered a real human being, he still did not want to witness the killing with his own eyes—however, sacrificing a resurrected dummy, ending the dark magic wave that might appear in the future wizarding world, and eliminating Voldemort's remaining influence and fear in the British wizarding world, the "reward" for this performance was too tempting, and he simply could not refuse.

"End? You—"

Boom!

Before Voldemort could finish his words, a scarlet magical beam suddenly cut through the air in the living room.

It's that old thing again!

Did that old fellow really think his clumsy magic could threaten Voldemort?!

Voldemort turned his head with a ferocious expression, and the wand in his hand rose like before, speaking quickly without being moved.

"Silver Shield Defen—"

"Too slow, young man."

Different from the previously evenly matched magic confrontation, this time, the silver shield he summoned shattered instantly like glass under the scarlet magical beam.

Powerful magic penetrated the shattered silver shield afterimage that shattered and dissipated like porcelain, and hit "Riddle-033" in the face with a look of astonishment, directly blasting him out of the living room.

"What are you waiting for? Did you think Santa Claus would fall from the sky and give you a sock full of gifts?"

Gellert Grindelwald waved his wand lightly, nonchalantly blasting open the wall in front of him.

Under his spell bombardment, "Riddle-033" was thrown high into the air like an old rag doll mixed in with the broken walls and fell onto the lawn outside the house.

"Y-you—"

Not far away, the skeleton-like snake-faced wizard with multiple fractures all over his body struggled to prop up his body in the pool of blood.

This was not some mediocre, ordinary old wizard at all. Judging from the magic that erupted just now, this was at least a top wizard on the same level as Dumbledore.

"I heard you killed me in the 'future'? That's terrible..."

"After all, no matter what, I can be considered your predecessor. How can I let you experience this first?"

Grindelwald glanced at the reporters who were in position in the distance, raised his wand lightly, and said softly with a indifferent and elegant expression.

"Remember, this spell should be recited like this. *Avada Kedavra!*"

A green light flashed.

The body in the pile of rocks fell down woodenly.

At the same time, a series of dazzling flashes suddenly lit up.