Harry's gaze swept over the Death Eater who had spoken. He was a middle-aged wizard whose hood had slipped back, yet the calculating gleam of an opportunist flickered in his eyes.
Harry slowly raised his left hand. The lightning patterns in his palm brightened and dimmed, and the wind in the graveyard suddenly changed direction, rolling up black ash from the ground and slapping it against the Death Eaters' robes with a dry rustle.
"Dark Lord?" He scoffed. His voice was not loud, but it pierced the dead silence of the graveyard like an icicle. "You idiots will only ever kneel at the feet of titles. Voldemort ruled you with fear. The Ministry of Magic pacifies you with profit. And I,"
He paused. The lightning whip in his palm suddenly turned into a silver thread, wrapping precisely around that Death Eater's wrist and gradually erasing the Dark Mark upon it.
"What I'm going to do is tear down the altars you kneel to."
The Death Eater caught in the thread went pale. The Dark Mark on his wrist was heating up, as if the lightning were about to burn straight through it. A few short seconds later, the writhing Dark Mark had vanished completely.
Harry paid him no further attention. Instead, he swept his gaze across all the Death Eaters, from Lucius's trembling silver-blond hair to Bellatrix's twisted, tear-streaked face.
"Pure-blood ideology is a cancer, not an honor. The Ministry's bureaucrats use 'law' to cover corruption, while you use 'bloodline' to dress up cowardice.
"What I want is not a new tyrant, but a world where every wizard can speak while standing upright, no matter their birth, no matter the strength of their magic."
He released the lightning whip. The Death Eater stumbled back, only to be pinned in place by gravity magic, still unable to move just like before.
"You can choose," Harry said, his voice without the slightest warmth. "Either rot in the ruins of the old order, or watch me turn your pure-blood family trees and the privileges you depend on into jokes in the history books.
"Voldemort made the world believe fear was power. I will show you that the courage to break one's chains is the real strength.
"As for a title like 'Dark Lord,'"
He looked down at the electric light gradually fading in his palm, the corner of his mouth curving into a cold arc.
"Leave it to pitiful worms like you, who need to huddle together just to stand up straight."
Several Death Eaters stared blankly at the young man before them, as if they were seeing a dragon about to devour the rotten roots of an ancient tree. Suddenly, they realized something.
This boy who had defeated Voldemort was not trying to destroy a single enemy. He meant to destroy the entire rotten system they depended on to survive, and they, the Death Eaters, were merely the first dust shaken loose from that system.
The graveyard fell quiet again. None of the Death Eaters immediately voiced their position.
It was not that they wanted to refuse. They were waiting for someone to take the lead. As long as one brick came loose, the dam in their hearts would collapse with a roar.
Sure enough, because of Harry's prior arrangement, a noble wizard with long blond hair was the first to step forward.
Lucius's knees struck the frozen soil with a dull thud, like a discarded boulder finally falling to the ground. His blond hair hung down and covered his face, but his right hand pressed accurately over the left side of his chest.
"The Malfoy family," he said, "is willing to serve you, my lord."
His voice was firm and resolute, echoing in the ears of every Death Eater like thunder in the sky.
After that, deathly silence spread through the graveyard for three seconds.
Bellatrix's nails dug deeply into her palms. She fixed her gaze on the Dark Mark, where the serpentine tattoo was violently contracting because of its master's death, like a dying worm.
She opened her mouth, wanting to denounce Lucius's cowardice, but the particles of Voldemort's disintegration still clung to her cheek. That touch suddenly reminded her of the Dementors in Azkaban, and the snarl in her throat turned into a suppressed whimper.
The first to kneel after Lucius were several old Death Eaters. They had witnessed the cruelty of shifting power during the First Wizarding War, so they understood the necessity of choosing a side better than anyone.
The sounds of knees hitting the ground came one after another, like hail striking a stone coffin.
Bellatrix collapsed on the ground. Looking at Lucius's straight back, she suddenly understood the essence of this surrender.
This was not loyalty to a new Dark Lord. It was begging for life from a power that could crush them with ease.
In the end, Bellatrix still knelt. Her movement carried the viciousness of something broken by force, and when her knees slammed into the ground, they shook up a cloud of dust.
At this moment, all the Death Eaters lowered their heads. Their black robes joined together in the wind like a dark sea. Only Lucius's blond hair stood out sharply in that darkness, like a sunken ship that had been the first to lower its flag.
Harry stood within the shadow of their surrender, looking at the once-arrogant Death Eaters now bent like harvested stalks of wheat. His face was calm, and his heart did not waver.
The wind swept Voldemort's remaining particles across their backs. Dark Marks were annihilated in lightning, like ghostly flames in the graveyard snuffed out effortlessly by the wind.
At last, Lucius's voice sounded again, deliberately lowered in respect.
"Please give your orders, my lord."
There was no fanaticism toward Voldemort in that "my lord." There was only a survivor's awe toward the blade above his neck. And Harry knew that this surrender was not the end, but the first bloodstained knife handed to him by the old order he intended to destroy.
By the time Harry had dealt with everything in the graveyard and returned to the Triwizard Tournament grounds, he was immediately surrounded by a large crowd of wizards.
Naturally, Hermione and Ron were at the very front. Behind them were Fleur and Ginny, and farther away were Cedric, Krum, and the others.
Harry first nodded to Dumbledore, signaling for him to relax. Everything had been resolved.
Then he began telling everyone what had just happened.
"Don't worry, everyone. Voldemort has already been defeated by me. The wizarding world is safe again."
The assembled wizards did not doubt Harry's words. After all, Harry had already defeated Voldemort several times.
They cheered aloud, celebrating Harry Potter's victory once more.
After everyone's emotions gradually settled, the final whistle of the Triwizard Tournament cut across the sky like the cry of a phoenix. Bagman's voice echoed over the arena through a magical amplifier.
"Witches and wizards, the Triwizard Tournament has finally come to an end.
"Here, I solemnly announce that the final winner of the Triwizard Tournament is Cedric Diggory of Hogwarts, Hufflepuff House."
On the award platform at the center of the arena, Cedric's fingers suddenly tightened around the Triwizard Cup. The gilded surface reflected his delighted face.
When he came back to himself and raised the cup to wave toward the stands, Hufflepuff's yellow banners surged like a tide.
The pumpkin pasties thrown into the air by the students burst apart into golden fireworks, scattering frosting everywhere.
This time, however, no one scolded them. Instead, everyone cheered, celebrating Hogwarts's final victory.
Harry stood beside Cedric, twirling his wand once around his fingertips.
When Bagman announced the second-place winner, Harry Potter, Gryffindor's cheers nearly overturned the stands.
Ron shouted at the top of his lungs, "I'm Harry's best mate!"
When everyone cheered Harry's name, the sound was even louder than it had been for Cedric.
Although Harry could not take first place in the Triwizard Tournament because of the agreement made before the competition, everyone knew that Harry was the most dazzling champion in this tournament.
Aside from the honor of the Triwizard Tournament, he had saved Cedric, destroyed the Death Eaters' sinister conspiracy, and even defeated the reborn Voldemort once again.
After that, when Bagman read out third place, Krum, and fourth place, Fleur, the cheers from the stands were not as loud.
Even so, the wizards from Durmstrang and Beauxbatons still offered their blessings to their champions.
At the professors' table, Professor McGonagall wore a joyful smile. Professor Flitwick stood on tiptoe to hug Hagrid beside him.
Snape stared at Harry expressionlessly, but the light in his eyes had softened even more.
When Cedric raised the trophy again, the cheers of the entire stadium suddenly merged into a single rhythm, like a chord played by countless wands at once.
Harry's gaze passed over the shifting crowd and saw Fleur blowing him a kiss.
At that moment, the darkness of the maze and the shadows of the graveyard were crushed by the roar of cheers, turning into the brightest light above the arena and illuminating every wizard's face.
With that, Hogwarts's fourth school year came to a perfect end.
In a secret chamber at Hogwarts, Dumbledore looked at Barty Crouch Jr. with disgust.
At this moment, Barty Jr.'s face was filled with despair. Ever since he learned that Voldemort had been defeated by Harry Potter yet again after being resurrected, he had remained in this state.
Dumbledore asked Harry how they should deal with Barty Jr.
After thinking briefly, Harry said directly, "Seal his magic and send him to Azkaban. This time, he stays there for life."
Thinking of the terrifying Dementors in Azkaban, Barty Jr. finally felt fear.
He begged over and over.
"No, let me go. Please let me go. As long as you're willing to spare me, I'll do anything you want."
But neither Dumbledore nor Harry paid any attention to his pleas.
Now that they had control over the Death Eaters, they had their black-ops arm. With that, the final piece needed to reform the wizarding world was completely in place.
During the final stretch of the term, Harry met with Sirius, who had secretly come to Hogwarts. The two of them talked for a long time.
Aside from that, he also had to deal with the young witches who were growing more and more enthusiastic toward him.
Time passed quickly, and soon the end of term arrived.
Harry stood on high ground, looking down at the Durmstrang and Beauxbatons students leaving the school.
Suddenly, he turned to look to the side. Fleur Delacour hurried up the stone steps and came behind him.
"Harry, we'll definitely meet again. I absolutely won't give up on you.
"Soon, I'll find a job here to improve my English, so remember to come see me then.
"Goodbye, Harry. Meeting you this time has been the happiest period of my life."
Harry watched as Fleur hurried down the lawn toward Madame Maxime, her silvery hair rippling like waves under the sunlight. His mood could not help becoming cheerful.
But the total amount of happiness in the world was fixed. When some people were happy, others would be unhappy.
Hermione and Ginny watched the interaction between Harry and Fleur, and both frowned together.
Harry was also preparing to go to the station with Ron and Hermione, then take the train back to King's Cross Station.
On the way, both Hermione and Ron kept repeating the same thing to Harry.
"Harry, remember to write to me during summer break."
"That's right, that's right. We can't lose contact over the summer."
Harry smiled and answered, "Of course."
The train slowly started moving, heading toward King's Cross Station.
On the return trip, the sky was cloudless. A gentle wind blew past, scattering the faint haze and making the sunlight even brighter.
By the Black Lake, Durmstrang's magical ship slowly sank beneath the water and headed back toward its own school.
After them, the Beauxbatons carriage also flew into the air, moving faster and faster until it was hidden in the sky by an Invisibility Charm.
When Harry returned to the Dursley house, he received an enthusiastic welcome from his uncle and aunt.
They wished they could use all their energy to make Harry happy. Perhaps if Harry was pleased, he would grant them even stronger magic.
That day, Harry woke up in the several-thousand-square-meter villa he had created through Transfiguration. After washing up, he left the room expanded by an Undetectable Extension Charm and went to the living room to eat with the Dursleys.
The Dursley family noticed that Harry seemed somewhat distracted while eating, and Aunt Petunia asked with concern, "What's wrong, Harry?"
Harry shook his head, indicating that nothing was wrong.
He simply felt that it was time for him to return to the multiverse world.
After several months apart, he missed Wanda and Gwen very much.
The surrounding environment rapidly lost color. In the blink of an eye, it became a field of blank white, then was dyed by chaos once more until the scene around him turned into the floating city.
Harry stood inside the training room and recalled what had happened several months ago.
Back then, after collecting enough power of space-time, he had left the multiverse world and returned to the wizarding world.
He remembered that before he left, Thor had once asked him for help.
It seemed Dead Odin had disappeared from Asgard.
Harry briefly reviewed the information he had obtained from observing the timeline in the past and learned that Asgard's Ragnarok should not be far away.
Once Odin died, Hela, the Goddess of Death, would break free from Odin's seal and return.
Hela's goal was to seize control of Asgard once more and launch another war against the Nine Realms. While unifying the Nine Realms, she intended to rule other races like Thanos until she ruled the universe.
So Harry could not simply watch Hela take control of Asgard. After all, once Hela controlled Asgard, she would be equivalent to half a Dimensional Demon God.
A Hela who controlled Asgard would also be a problem for Harry.
Not to mention, Harry still had quite a few enemies in the multiverse world, such as Hydra, Mephisto, and the other Hell lords.
If those organizations found Hela, joined forces with her, and turned her into a pawn for their power in this universe, things would become even more troublesome.
So Harry opened a portal. On the other side was Asgard, filled with a sense of fantasy and futuristic science fiction.
He was going to speak with Thor personally.
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