Voldemort quickly found Tom.
Inside the Headmaster's Office of Koldovstoretz, the two sat in silence, facing each other.
Eventually, Tom was the first to speak.
"I advised you long ago to leave Britain with your followers while you still could. You can't defeat them."
"Hide in some impoverished, frozen backwater like you?" Voldemort sneered. "If not for you, I wouldn't even have known wizards existed here."
"But you came anyway," Tom replied, unoffended. "If I had stayed in Britain like you, my bones would have long turned to dust."
"So you're really going to duel Young Master Lawrence in a month?"
"You bloody..."
Voldemort wanted to curse, but couldn't be bothered. Otherwise, he'd have to hear more of that "Young Master Lawrence" nonsense, which disgusted him even further.
"I'm certain of victory," Voldemort adjusted his emotions and declared confidently. "Thanks to Dumbledore, I've gained new insights into Dark Magic. One month is enough for my power to advance further."
His cold, serpentine eyes fixed on Tom as Voldemort said icily, "If your true self were here, I'd kill you first and reclaim my soul."
The moment he entered, Voldemort realised the Tom before him wasn't the real person, but a controlled puppet.
"Are you confident about handling both of them?" Tom frowned. "Dumbledore has changed. He actually became the Minister for Magic. I'm certain he wouldn't hesitate to hide in the shadows and strike you down at the perfect moment."
"Of course I know. But he hasn't changed," Voldemort said venomously. "He's always been despicable. After ousting Fudge, he's simply revealed his true nature."
"We're the same kind of people. He's just been pretending all along."
"You want me to help you stall him?" Tom quickly grasped Voldemort's intention and shook his head repeatedly. "Don't even think about it. I won't show myself until I'm certain of victory."
"I don't need you," Voldemort looked at Tom contemptuously. This cowardly nature was exactly like his own.
Hadn't he chosen to travel the world back then precisely because he feared Dumbledore?
"What I need is Grindelwald."
Hearing Grindelwald's name, Tom's expression soured further. "Then go find him. Why come to me?"
"You and his followers are fighting fiercely. Cease hostilities temporarily - that's my sincerity in coming here."
Tom snorted coldly. "He's the one provoking me!"
Recently, the Russian wizards' expansion plans had completely stalled. Grindelwald's followers had flooded into Ukraine, Belarus and other countries, backing them up. Tom cursed Grindelwald countless times daily, wondering what madness had possessed him.
The southern situation was perfectly favourable, so why choose to expand northward?
"I don't care about right or wrong, I only want results," Voldemort said indifferently. "Lawrence and Dumbledore are the real enemies."
"As payment, if you're willing to cease hostilities, I'll help you deal with Grindelwald after we eliminate them both."
Tom laughed scornfully. "Hypocrite. You and he were bound to clash eventually. There can only be one Dark Lord in this world. I can watch the tigers fight from the mountain."
"If you refuse, I'll destroy everything you've built." Voldemort's serpentine eyes narrowed to slits. "You know I have the power - slaughter the students here, massacre your Ministry of Magic, render all your efforts worthless."
"You dare!" Tom showed anger for the first time.
Voldemort didn't speak, merely watching him as the atmosphere descended into an eerie silence.
After a long while, Tom's imposing manner deflated. "I agree to your terms."
"But... I have one condition too~~"
...
Two days later, all the wizards from Russia withdrew to their homeland, taking this 'gift' with them. Voldemort captured an Acolyte and finally met his predecessor, Grindelwald.
Their meeting didn't alarm many people. There had always been Auror spies around Durmstrang, but Grindelwald couldn't be bothered to deal with them since no one dared to break in anyway.
"Please have a seat, Mr Riddle."
Grindelwald studied him curiously, asking with some confusion: "Didn't you consider adjusting your appearance during your resurrection? Disfigured people don't easily attract followers."
Compared to Voldemort's slit-like nostrils and scarlet pupils, Grindelwald's heterochromatic eyes shone with brilliant and mysterious light.
"I won't waste my power on such meaningless matters. When I'm powerful, those weaklings will naturally come to pledge allegiance."
Grindelwald despised Voldemort, and Voldemort looked down on him equally.
What use was there for a wizard to care so much about their appearance? Magic was what truly mattered.
No wonder he lost to Dumbledore.
If he hadn't needed something from the other, his words would likely have been even more unpleasant.
"Mr Grindelwald, I've long admired your achievements. You were only one step away from success, just unfortunately made one poor move and ended up trapped in Nurmengard."
"Congratulations on your escape - now you have the chance for revenge."
Grindelwald played with his fingers, his posture casual. "Spare me the hypocritical words. My time is too precious to waste chatting with bereaved dogs."
"That title might suit you better." Voldemort suppressed his rising anger. "At least I didn't lose to Dumbledore during my retreat. If Lawrence hadn't arrived immediately, I might even have killed him."
"You? Kill him? Hahahahaha!"
Grindelwald laughed uproariously as if he'd heard the joke of the century. "If Dumbledore were that easy to deal with, do you think he'd have survived until now?"
"No, if you had that capability, you wouldn't have been reduced to something less than a wraith by a year-old infant over a decade ago."
Grindelwald's words struck Voldemort's most sensitive spot. The room instantly filled with murderous intent as both raised their wands simultaneously, aiming at each other.
"Coming to my territory to provoke me, Riddle? If you don't want to die by Lawrence's hand, I can do the job for him."
Grindelwald showed no fear of Voldemort - not even Dumbledore could make him afraid.
The only person in the entire wizarding world he couldn't see through was that boy Wayne. Everyone else at best stood on the same level as him, and Grindelwald had absolute confidence that when both sides were equally matched, he would be the strongest one.
Or perhaps all powerful individuals shared similar convictions - otherwise, they couldn't have reached their current heights.
The confrontation was poised to erupt, with terrifyingly powerful magical power gathering at both their wand tips. Finally, remembering his purpose for coming, Voldemort was the first to back down.
He withdrew the wand he had snatched from somewhere, taking two slight steps back. "Mr Grindelwald, you and I are not enemies. If we were to fight, the only ones who would rejoice are Dumbledore and Lawrence."
"I came to negotiate terms," Voldemort's voice was hoarse. Showing weakness was not an unacceptable act for him; he merely stored the humiliation firmly in his heart, saving it for future reckoning.
Grindelwald remained aggressive: "You are not qualified to negotiate terms with me. A ceasefire at the border means nothing to me. On the contrary, you would be saving those Russian wizards."
"Don't you want revenge?" Voldemort said with a persuasive tone. "One month from now, I will face Lawrence in a duel to the death. Given Dumbledore's treachery, he is certainly plotting how to ambush me."
"You might be pleased if I die, but do you think without my threat, they won't turn their focus on you?"
Grindelwald remained silent. Voldemort thought he was tempted and pressed harder internally.
"I've heard news that Keynes already approached Dumbledore, trying to persuade him and Lawrence to join forces against you. It was only because of the duel next month that he declined."
"We are like twin Graphorns—if I die, you perish; if you die, I will never rise again."
'I've already reformed...'
Grindelwald was laughing hysterically inside, but on the surface, he cooperatively wore a grave expression, as if frowning in deep thought.
After a long while, he finally let out a heavy sigh and said slowly, "What do you want me to do?"
A sharp glint flashed as Voldemort's lips curled: "I need you to hold off Dumbledore until Lawrence and I settle our duel. After I kill him, I will help you take down Dumbledore."
"I can handle that alone!" Grindelwald said excitedly, fully displaying his 'hatred' for Dumbledore.
"Even better," Voldemort gave a slight bow. "Mr Grindelwald, we are both great Dark Wizards. Perhaps we will eventually duel, but at least until they are eliminated, our interests align."
"For the greater good?" Grindelwald looked at him.
"Exactly," Voldemort grinned. "For the greater good."
"Good!" Grindelwald slammed the table and stood up. "Go ahead, Mr Riddle. Kill Lawrence, and you will be the greatest in the world!"
"Have you confirmed the exact date and location for the duel?"
"Once I find a suitable wand, I will formally issue the challenge," Voldemort held back, not revealing his recent breakthrough.
After rough agreements were made, Voldemort hurried away.
He indeed needed to find a wand capable of bearing his magical power, and required more time to refine his magic further.
After he left Durmstrang, Grindelwald laughed.
'Kill Lawrence and become the greatest in the world—true enough, but can he manage it?'
'Asking me to deal with Dumbledore... now that's a brilliant move.'
'Perfect. I was just looking for an excuse to meet Dumbledore in Britain—now I have one.'
Leaning over the desk, Grindelwald quickly finished writing a letter and tied it to an owl's leg before sending it off. He wanted to see how Lawrence planned to deal with that bastard Voldemort, and also ask what kind of sweet talk he'd fed Dumbledore to make him willingly become the Minister for Magic.
...
"Just some insignificant persuasion," Wayne said modestly to Professor McGonagall. "The most important thing was Dumbledore's own choice. Don't you agree, Professor... no, Minister?"
At the Hog's Head, several Heads of House and Wayne had gathered for a small celebration of Dumbledore's new job.
"N-no, that's right," Dumbledore said with a strained smile. "It was entirely voluntary."
The naive Professor Sprout and Professor Flitwick believed it, but Professor McGonagall and Snape remained unmoved.
They were certain Wayne had played a decisive role in this. They knew Dumbledore well - becoming Minister could never have been his true intention.
But both kept silent about it, and there was no way they could press for answers, so they simply moved past the topic.
"Wayne, from now on, you don't need to attend classes. Focus entirely on preparing for your duel with the Dark Lord," Professor McGonagall said with concern. "He's different from Grindelwald. Even if their power is similar, the Dark Lord won't fight honourably like Grindelwald did. He'll definitely use underhanded tricks."
"The more preparation, the better your chances of success."
"No problem," Wayne readily agreed. How could he refuse such a great opportunity to skip classes legitimately?
By nightfall, Wayne and the professors had returned to Hogwarts.
Entering his suitcase, he opened the system panel.
Thanks to Dumbledore's contribution, his points had now broken through the ninety thousand mark. After some thought, Wayne directly performed nine hundred consecutive draws.
He could currently crush Voldemort, but he always felt something was missing to break through to the Legend level.
That barrier seemed faintly visible, yet no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't break through it.
He hoped this drawing session would yield some prizes useful to him.
After throwing in nine hundred consecutive draws, the system was completely enveloped in lights of various colours. It flashed for nearly five full minutes before the system finally sorted all the cards into categories.
Seven golden cards, two diamond-coloured cards, and the most eye-catching red card.
Wayne's gaze fell on the red card, which he tapped to open first.
He had expected it to be another fragment of the Celestial Dragon's inheritance, but as the card shattered, a red light shot into his mind.
A towering figure with wings growing from its back occupied his entire field of vision.
Then came a furious roar.
"STAR! GUARDIAN! COUNCIL!"
"YOU! DESERVE! DEATH!"