"Lucius? Come in."
Although he had not knocked, Lord Voldemort's keen senses had already detected someone approaching the room.
The man's hoarse, arrogant voice reached Lucius through the wooden door.
Only then did Lucius dare to push the door open and tiptoe inside.
"Lucius, it seems you've had some good luck?"
Lord Voldemort reclined on an elegant sofa, holding a silver teacup aloft and casually twirling it between his fingers. He was in an equally cheerful mood.
His nemesis's funeral had already been held. They could not even find Dumbledore's body, yet they had cremated him anyway. It was nothing short of a ridiculous joke.
Now, no one posed a threat to him anymore.
"Yes, Master. Albus Dumbledore has been defeated by you, so my son secretly returned. He's currently in the drawing room having dinner with his mother."
Lucius forced a fawning smile onto his pale face and bowed as he spoke obsequiously.
Lord Voldemort's pale, snake-like face narrowed its crimson eyes. He stuck out his tongue and licked his lips.
"Very good."
He nodded.
"Lord Voldemort has never been stingy with generous rewards for loyal and useful subordinates."
Voldemort spoke proudly.
"That's perfect. Tomorrow, I'll be welcoming some guests and introducing your son to them. He will receive unparalleled honour as one of the key contributors to my return."
"Of course, they may be somewhat rude and lacking in manners, Lucius. You won't mind, will you?"
Voldemort's tone seemed to be asking for an answer, but in reality, there was no room for objection.
No one would be foolish enough to question him.
"It is my honour, Master."
Lucius bowed reverently.
He could already guess what kind of guests Malfoy Manor would welcome tomorrow.
"Rest assured, I will never forget the merits of your son, Draco Malfoy—the Death Eater who helped the Dark Lord and made such a great sacrifice."
Lord Voldemort spoke proudly as he stroked his wand.
"You may leave."
He waved his hand, dismissing his subordinate.
"Yes, Master."
Time passed faster than Lucius had expected.
The evening of the following day arrived quickly, and the pitch-black night began to descend.
Wiltshire, Britain.
Many cloaked figures began gathering on the nearby streets.
They crossed the straight driveway, passed through the open iron gates, entered the courtyard, crossed the lawn, and headed toward the magnificent, elegant mansion ahead.
It was worth mentioning that the visitors varied greatly in size.
Some were extraordinarily tall, almost like giants. Others were hunched over like dwarfs. Some even wore white hats over their cloaks, making them look rather comical.
Inside the courtyard walls, a pair of symmetrical fountains ran continuously, stirring up layers of thin mist in the semi-open space.
If sunlight had been shining at that moment, the mist would surely have refracted the light into dazzling rays.
However, it was already evening, and the sky was overcast, so such a scene was obviously impossible.
The group was extremely rude.
The sound of their footsteps alone was enough to wake the peacock sleeping nearby. It glared angrily at the outsiders before becoming so frightened that it shrank back behind the tall hedge and hid.
The tall figures were especially intimidating.
Their silhouettes were concealed beneath their cloaks, but even from a distance, one could almost smell the blood and stench emanating from them.
Animal instinct immediately told the proud peacock to retreat.
As they climbed the ornate, patterned steps, the silver doors opened automatically, welcoming their arrival.
Beyond them was a spacious drawing room that had been transformed almost beyond recognition from its former splendour.
The only thing that remained unchanged was the black marble fireplace leaning against the corner of the wall.
The ornate silver chandeliers had all been removed.
A few candles burning on a deep-red wooden round table cast dim light across the room, their flickering flames giving off an eerie, blood-red glow.
The soft white light of the past had been completely replaced.
The rectangular table where the Malfoy family of three had eaten the previous day had been replaced by a huge round table in the centre of the drawing room.
The round table was said to have originally been created to demonstrate equality of status.
Legend had it that King Arthur of Britain had received it from the father of his queen, Guinevere.
The Round Table symbolised "equality" and "unity."
At the Round Table, there were supposedly no differences in status or distinctions between ruler and subject. Everyone was permitted to speak freely.
Of course, the original meaning of anything could change over the course of history.
The equality of status referred to here was merely equality among subordinates.
Lord Voldemort remained high above them, looking down upon everything beneath him.
Therefore, on this day, a series of tall brown stone steps had been constructed across the flat floor of the drawing room, rising toward a magnificent and luxurious throne.
The cruel Dark Lord sat upon it, symbolising absolute power as he scrutinised his newly summoned subordinates like a monarch.
The others had gathered around the enormous mahogany round table.
A chilling silver sword and an ancient wand were crossed behind Lord Voldemort's seat. Their cold metallic aura and sharp edges sent shivers down the spine.
His right hand caressed the black-iron armrest, which curved like a snake and ended in the shape of a serpent's head, as though he were stroking a lover.
Nagini, a true member of the serpent family, hissed and flicked her tongue as she coiled around Lord Voldemort's feet.
Her narrowed eyes stared at everyone in the room.
Wherever her gaze fell, the person being watched would unconsciously feel a chill run down their spine.
The room was enormous.
The Malfoy family's drawing room had now been completely transformed beyond recognition.
One of the other two walls was covered with the heads of rare and exotic beasts.
Some had been preserved remarkably well, while others had been hollowed out and dried until they resembled hideous skulls.
The other wall was covered by a long mural.
The crystal chandelier on the ceiling had long since been removed, and the soft white illumination had been replaced by the dim red glow of the candles burning on the round table.
The faint light from the burning marble fireplace provided another source of dim illumination.
"Everyone's here, right?"
"Today, the first thing I want to do here is introduce a meritorious person to all of you."
"This is my most loyal subordinate. He helped me regain my life. In addition, he once successfully caused countless Aurors pursuing him under Dumbledore's command to fail."
Lord Voldemort extended a pale, slender finger and pointed toward Malfoy standing before the round table.
This was also a way of establishing authority.
Introducing someone to an important position without demonstrating any significant achievements would hardly be convincing.
Upon hearing this, the black-cloaked figures gathered around the large round table began whispering among themselves.