On the isolated island, Voldemort and Harry Potter suddenly appeared.
Voldemort was in an excellent mood. Gripping Harry Potter, he strode into the cave with a look of pure satisfaction on his face.
This was the first time he had gained the upper hand in a clash with Dumbledore. True, it was only because he had taken a hostage and caught Dumbledore off guard, but a win was a win.
He had won big. Not only had he obtained all the Deathly Hallows, he had also captured Harry Potter.
From beginning to end, Voldemort had never intended to spare Harry Potter. He would soon possess Death's power, but even after that, he still wanted to restore his own body.
Dragging Harry Potter behind him, Voldemort entered the depths of the cave. By now, the lake had completely vanished, transformed into pure deathly magic that formed the ritual array within the cavern.
Harry Potter was tossed casually to one side. Voldemort threw the Elder Wand and the Invisibility Cloak into the array and watched as the ritual slowly began, his face full of excitement.
Now came the moment he had been waiting for.
Voldemort stepped into the array and stood at its center.
"Come, Death's power!" he shouted, raising both hands high.
The array activated, and the Invisibility Cloak and the Elder Wand were instantly broken down.
The Invisibility Cloak went first. As it dissolved, it became a phantom body that resonated with Voldemort's soul power, guiding the deathly magic that surged up next.
Once the Elder Wand dissolved, powerful deathly magic emerged around the array. That magic poured into the phantom body while simultaneously drawing Voldemort's soul toward it.
The process was extremely slow, but Voldemort was unconcerned. The deathly magic filling the array would ensure the ritual proceeded without interruption.
The cave fell into utter silence. Only Death's magic, heavy with the aura of death, moved through the cavern.
At that moment, Harry Potter, who had been unconscious, slowly opened his eyes.
Looking at the deadly, terrifying magic filling the cave, he stretched lazily.
Harry Potter's abnormal reaction immediately alarmed Voldemort, but this was the critical moment of the ritual, and he had no way to act.
Even so, Voldemort did not panic in the slightest. There was a powerful anti-Apparition enchantment here, and this was an island surrounded by sea on all sides. Harry Potter had no chance of escaping.
As for stopping the ritual, that was even less possible. Unless an Eternal Wizard descended here in person, no one could interrupt it.
If nothing else, Voldemort could at least enjoy seeing Harry Potter despair.
That malicious thought pleased him.
What Voldemort had not expected, however, was that Harry Potter neither tried to run nor tried to sabotage the ritual.
He only glanced at Voldemort, gave him a strange smile, and tossed a wand into the array.
The instant the wand entered the array, it melted away, turning into pure magic and merging with the ritual.
That was the Elder Wand?
Voldemort noticed its shape. It looked exactly like the Elder Wand he had just obtained, except it carried none of Death's aura.
What was going on? Where had that imitation come from? What exactly was this Harry Potter trying to do?
Just as Voldemort was struggling to make sense of it, the Harry Potter in front of him waved at him. In the next second, a living person suddenly collapsed into countless vines, which were instantly tainted by Death's magic, withered, and scattered into nothing.
What was that?
Voldemort, trapped in the middle of the ritual, froze. A feeling of unease began to creep through his insubstantial body.
The ritual continued, but Voldemort was no longer calm. Panic rising, he frantically examined himself.
He found nothing.
That did not reassure him. It only made him more afraid.
The most frightening kind of trouble was never the kind right in front of you. It was the kind you knew existed, yet could never find.
Voldemort refused to believe that thing, whatever it was, had disguised itself as Harry Potter and come all the way here just to scare him for fun.
It had definitely done something.
Voldemort grew more and more uneasy, but there was no way to stop the ritual. Everything was proceeding step by step, pushing him toward the level of an Eternal Wizard.
Once the ritual had begun, it could not be interrupted. Even if Voldemort wanted to stop and examine himself thoroughly, he could not.
"No. I shouldn't panic. Maybe that thing wanted exactly this. Maybe making me panic was its whole purpose."
Voldemort tried to steady himself.
"I'm already infinitely close to Death itself. An ordinary wizard cannot affect me at all. That's right. Exactly. No one can affect me."
He forced himself calm again. Looking at the body of Death drawing ever closer, the longing in his eyes overwhelmed his suspicion.
"At worst, after I become Death, I can take my time and examine myself properly. Then everything will be foolproof."
The moment that thought arose, Voldemort's soul reached the body of Death, now filled with Death's magic.
His soul had already been reshaped by Death's soul power into the form best suited for Death's body.
He was already shaped like Death.
Now all he had to do was enter that body, and he would become the true Death.
At this point, backing out would be idiotic.
With that thought, Voldemort stopped hesitating and plunged straight into Death's body.
In the next instant, a terrifying power awakened.
Magic thick with the aura of death erupted outward in shockwaves, and a sinister force seemed to pierce through some unknown realm.
One spatial crack after another opened up. Chilling winds poured through them, accompanied by shrill, ear-piercing ghostly wails that filled the cave and turned it into a living hell.
At the center of the cavern, Voldemort slowly opened his eyes. His pupils were swallowed by darkness so deep it could not be dissolved, and his gaze pierced through space itself to glimpse the world called Death.
"Ha... ha... hahahaha!"
Voldemort burst into wild laughter.
He raised a hand, and immense magic surged through him.
"This power... it's intoxicating," he murmured.
The feeling was extraordinary. His instincts told him he was stronger than the Eternal Wizard who had appeared so suddenly at Hogwarts.
That was the difference between a newly ascended Eternal Wizard and an old one. Death's legacy was even more overwhelming than Voldemort had imagined.
But Death's strength was not limited to raw power.
Voldemort lifted his head and looked into the distance, his sight passing through those spatial cracks.
They were all gates leading to the world of the dead, and he, as Death, had now completely taken control of that kingdom of the dead.
He could not fully command every dead soul, but he could summon from that realm the servants who had once been loyal to him.
Even if they were already dead.
And he himself was now the master of death. So long as the Deathly Hallows remained with him, he could live forever and never perish.
This... was Death.