Under the assault of the undead army, the battlefield was rapidly divided apart.
Dumbledore's strength was profound, and with the Elder Wand in hand, very few Death Eaters could survive more than ten exchanges against him.
Meanwhile, both Lucius and Snape had previously received rune engravings from Arthur.
Their strength now far surpassed that of ordinary elite Aurors.
Combined with the spirit summons Arthur had called forth, they handled the Death Eaters with remarkable ease.
Especially since among those spirits—
there existed the Mimic Tear.
A summon that possessed the majority of Arthur's magic.
Dozens of Death Eaters working together could barely suppress the Mimic Tear's overwhelming slaughter.
As for Harry—
on a chaotic battlefield like this, where spells flew everywhere, even random attacks had a high probability of hitting some unfortunate victim.
And considering Harry's supernatural talent for attracting trouble—
if he dared charge recklessly into the center of battle, he would probably get an early reunion with his parents.
Harry might normally be reckless—
but he wasn't stupid.
He wasn't foolish enough to throw away his own life just to avenge Sirius.
Thus, Harry acted with extreme caution.
He layered multiple Shield Charms onto himself before carefully following the Lestrange brothers from a distance.
Every so often, he would launch a spell or two to ambush them.
However, the person enjoying the battlefield the most was undoubtedly Hermione.
The little witch remained in her Animagus form, darting throughout every corner of the battlefield like a phantom.
Every single time she attacked—
another Death Eater died.
It wasn't as though nobody tried to capture her.
Several Death Eaters had even worked together to surround and trap her.
Unfortunately for them—
Hermione's movements were simply too agile.
Every single time, she effortlessly leapt free from their encirclement.
Voldemort genuinely never expected that among Arthur's group—
the greatest influence on the entire battlefield would actually be a cat.
And the more he watched—
the more familiar that cat's magic seemed.
Wasn't this the exact same magic used against him by the witch named Hermione back in the Riddle graveyard?
Could it be—
that this cat was actually Hermione's Animagus form?
But since when could wizards cast magic while transformed into Animagi?
Or was this creature actually some kind of magical beast?
Voldemort's mind filled with questions.
Unfortunately for him—
Melina had absolutely no intention of answering them.
Nor was she the type to announce things like:
"How dare you lose focus while fighting me?"
Instead—
she simply seized every opportunity to launch deadly attacks.
The moment Voldemort became distracted, Melina suddenly vanished from sight.
In the next instant—
she appeared directly behind him.
The Black Knife danced through the air.
Several wounds instantly tore across Voldemort's back.
The pain that erupted from his soul itself nearly twisted Voldemort's expression.
And simultaneously—
another question appeared in his mind.
How was Melina able to injure him?
Ever since being modified by Death, Voldemort's soul could freely alternate between tangible and intangible states.
Under normal circumstances, this rendered him almost completely immune to physical attacks.
Yet now—
Melina's dagger had actually sliced directly through his soul.
It was utterly unbelievable.
Voldemort quickly widened the distance between them before staring carefully at the dagger in Melina's hand.
It was a uniquely shaped blade.
Along the center of the dagger's body ran a crack resembling a blood groove.
Within that crack, crimson light flickered faintly.
Although the color differed—
Voldemort instantly recognized the power within it.
Death power.
Voldemort inwardly cursed furiously.
Wasn't death power supposed to belong exclusively to Death itself?!
Why were so many people using it now?!
And why did each person's version have a completely different color?!
For the first time, Voldemort suddenly began to understand why Death wanted Arthur dead so badly.
If it were him—
he also wouldn't want his own authority spreading everywhere uncontrollably.
Unfortunately, now wasn't the time for random thoughts.
Seeing Melina charge toward him once more, Voldemort immediately gathered death power into his hands.
The dark energy condensed into a longsword.
He continuously blocked Melina's attacks.
Normally, there was an old saying:
"Longer weapons hold the advantage."
Unfortunately for Voldemort—
that logic didn't really apply here.
The second half of the saying was far more accurate:
"Shorter weapons are more dangerous."
After all, Voldemort had used wands his entire life.
Now suddenly forcing him into sword combat—
the fact that he could block Melina's attacks at all was already impressive.
As for why Voldemort wasn't using a wand—
his original wand had long since been taken by Harry months ago.
After learning that his wand and Voldemort's shared twin cores, Harry immediately became interested in Voldemort's wand.
Following Voldemort's death, Harry had taken the wand and asked Arthur to fuse the two together.
As a result, Harry obtained a new wand with greater compatibility and significantly enhanced power.
Truthfully, the inspiration for this idea originally came from Ron's wand.
Back when Ron's old wand snapped in half, Arthur had conveniently "borrowed" Lockhart's wand afterward.
Later, Arthur fused the two together and created Ron's new wand.
Not only did the fused wand suit Ron far better—
the power of his spells also noticeably increased.
That was why Harry eventually conceived the idea of combining the twin-core wands.
As for Voldemort—
after returning from the Underworld, he naturally tried obtaining a new wand.
Unfortunately, ordinary wands simply couldn't withstand death power.
After only a few uses, they would break apart.
Eventually, Voldemort gave up on using wands entirely.
After all, his death power didn't require magical amplification anyway.
And now—
he was paying the price for lacking a proper weapon.
Voldemort could only barely defend himself against Melina's relentless Black Knife attacks.
Every so often, Melina would exploit an opening and leave behind another wound infused with death power.
Voldemort couldn't understand it.
Why could Melina's death power injure him despite both of them wielding death itself?
And why were the wounds refusing to heal?!
What Voldemort didn't know was—
although Thanatos had granted him death power—
the fundamental nature of his power and Melina's existed on completely different levels.
Melina's death power originated from Destined Death itself—
the true Rune of Death from the Lands Between.
A power capable of slaying gods.
Combined with the Black Knife—
a weapon specifically designed to wound divinity—
even actual gods would suffer beneath its blade.
Compared to that—
Voldemort's soul was merely something casually modified by Death.
To Melina—
injuring him was as easy as slicing vegetables.
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