Volume 4: The Sea and the Ship Heading North Chapter 289 Triwizard Tournament
Dumbledore raised the wand in his hand, and red light lingered around the tip of the wand. The temperature around it had obviously risen by four or five degrees compared to the previous second.
Seeing his action, all the wizards on the Witch Horizon following him raised their wands without hesitation, even though the man sitting on the chair brought tremendous pressure to all of them!
After seeing their actions, Aurors and all other pure-bloods not participating in the battle on both sides of Voldemort raised their wands.
As long as Voldemort has not abandoned them, they have no choice but to follow him to the end!
If this man becomes the loser again today, then none of the pure-blood wizards in the courtroom will be able to escape, and none of them will survive!
However, even though the atmosphere was so tense, Voldemort still leaned lazily on the back of his chair, the wand in his hand still held casually between two fingers like a street gangster holding a cigarette, as if he didn't see Dumbledore's prepared attack posture at all.
"In fact, you and I both understand, Dumbledore." He said easily, "If you fight me like this, we won't be able to tell the winner in a short time, but if I want to kill others, you can't stop me."
Dumbledore said "Ahaha" calmly, as if he had just thought of this question.
"You said a lot. You want to kill people. No one here can stop you. But, is this place really not important to you?"
Their conversation was very straightforward, and in this straightforward conversation, the people who were truly threatened were everyone else present.
Voldemort wanted to kill all wizards on the Wizarding World except Dumbledore, and Dumbledore could not stop him. But at the same time, Dumbledore wanted to destroy the entire French Ministry of Magic and even kill all the French pure-bloods present, and Voldemort could not stop him.
If the fight between two people reaches the point where neither can do anything to the other, then they will inevitably start by attacking the people around the other.
Dumbledore looked at Voldemort's cold eyes and suddenly thought that Voldemort had not appeared before entering this courtroom. Instead, he appeared under the attention of everyone after all the people from both sides gathered. It was very likely that he did it deliberately.
As for why he had to organize such an occasion, it was impossible that he simply wanted to show off. Voldemort might have such a hobby, but he had not yet reached the point of doing these things in such a critical occasion just for the sake of face.
The biggest possibility is that he is intentionally creating a situation where the others will become a burden in the subsequent battle between the two.
As for why such a situation had to be deliberately created, Dumbledore felt that he did not need to guess, because Voldemort would tell it himself.
“Of course it’s important.”
As long as Voldemort had any sanity left, he would never deny the significance of the existence of all the French pure-bloods in front of them, he said loudly.
"These are the cornerstones of my career, including this Ministry of Magic. I can't let you destroy them so easily, just like you won't let me kill all the people behind you so easily."
His voice suddenly became strange.
"This battle will eventually turn into this result. None of us wants to see it. There is no way for anyone to reconcile the contradiction between us. You want to capture Paris and counterattack Britain. I want you to get out of France and take your lackeys to exile in other corners. Why don't we resolve this conflict in another reasonable way?"
Dumbledore nodded slightly, his crescent-shaped eyes reflecting an inexplicable white light.
"I'm all ears."
Voldemort stood up from his chair, with a smile on his face, and strolled among the pure-blood wizards, with his arms outstretched as if he was giving a grand speech.
"In fact, I have always wanted to be a pure educator, Dumbledore. If you had agreed when I applied for the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts professor in your office, I might have worked honestly under you as an excellent professor, and there would never be another 'great gentleman' in this world."
"But you rejected me, which is a great shame for me. It is also because of this incident that I decided to take over the Hogwarts School of Magic from you."
"The result is obvious. I did it. Compared to other fancy titles, the two titles that I am most satisfied with are 'Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry' and 'Lifetime Honorary Headmaster of Beauxbatons School of Witchcraft and Wizardry'. Of course you refused to admit defeat. Even when you fled from that castle in a hurry, you still insisted on declaring in a broken car that that ridiculous school was the real Hogwarts. That loser also took the opportunity to seize Durmstrang."
He looked around at everyone around him, then fixed his eyes on Dumbledore's face.
"This may be a coincidence, or it may be fate. No matter who holds the authority , now each of us controls two magic schools. This is great!"
"I don't know if everyone present here still remembers that after so many years, there was once a competition in Europe where three magic schools participated together to select students as warriors. They participated in various competitions and finally competed to become the strongest warrior?"
The courtroom was completely silent. Whether it was the French pure-blood wizards or the wizarding horizon wizards behind Dumbledore, they all looked at the man standing among everyone.
No one present could guess what Voldemort was talking about. Although the event had indeed been suspended for hundreds of years, it was still talked about among wizards because of its legendary nature.
"The Triwizard Tournament!"
Voldemort and Dumbledore looked at each other and said the name of the event with a smile.
"Hogwarts! Beauxbatons! Durmstrang!"
"This is a competition jointly organized by three magic schools representing the entire European wizarding world. Dumbledore, since our identities as wizards cannot help us determine the outcome of today's fight, how about a competition between educators?"
"My Hogwarts and Beauxbatons represent me, your Hogwarts and that loser Durmstrang represent you. Whoever wins the championship will be the winner!"
He restrained the smile on his face, his expression turned calm, and his words were powerful.
"If I win, you and your ridiculous organization will get out of France! If you win, I will withdraw to England with all those who are willing to follow me and hand over everything in this land to you!"
"And since this is the Triwizard Tournament, the outcome of this tournament will determine that there can only be one Hogwarts! If you win, I will disband my Hogwarts and resign as headmaster. If I win, you will also have to destroy that ridiculous carriage and take off the title of the greatest Hogwarts headmaster of all time!"
Voldemort's words echoed in the courtroom, plunging the space into complete deathly silence.
No one could have imagined that he would suddenly come up with such a solution, using an event that had not been held for hundreds of years to decide the ownership of France!
In such a competition, the only ones who can really participate are a group of children who have not yet graduated from school!
Four children decide the fate of a piece of land and the orthodox status of Hogwarts...
Such hugely different things connected together brought a severe shock to everyone present.
No one knows what Voldemort was thinking to make such a decision, and no one knows what benefits such a decision will bring to him.
No one knows what the gap is in the level of students in the two Hogwarts, Beauxbatons and Durmstrang.
This is purely a competition between the quality of students in different schools, and the final result is unknown until the comparison is made.
No matter how shocking the information is, there comes a time when people have to digest it.
After everyone came to their senses, they all turned their eyes to Dumbledore.
Since Voldemort has proposed a solution to the war, whether it will be adopted or not depends on Dumbledore's decision.
Unlike the disbelief on the faces of others, Dumbledore's expression did not show much fluctuation even after Voldemort told him the final result.
He just looked at Voldemort deeply, his gaze never moving away, as if he wanted to imprint his gaze on his mind.
Voldemort did not avoid his gaze. Instead, he nodded and looked at him, quietly waiting for his answer.
The wait did not last long, and Dumbledore finished his thoughts, but what he said next caused an uproar in the audience.
"Where will the competition be held?"
There was no bargaining, no more questions, his words were equivalent to implicitly agreeing to all the suggestions made by Voldemort!
The corners of Voldemort's mouth curled up slightly, without any surprise or other expression, but an expression that looked like a sneer or a ridicule.
"Since this competition also determines the orthodox ownership of Hogwarts, how about setting the venue at Hogwarts Castle?"
Dumbledore nodded, as if he agreed with Voldemort's decision.
"Of course, Hogwarts Castle. That's the perfect place."
He lowered his wand, as if this suggestion was not made by Voldemort at all, but he had thought so from the beginning.
"This is the best solution. Everything comes down to the most basic competition. I agree with this suggestion, Riddle, so we should make some absolute commitments here."
Voldemort seemed to have guessed what Dumbledore wanted to say.
As soon as he finished speaking, he swung the wand in his hand without any hesitation, pointing the tip of the wand at his left hand!
The next moment, the piece of flesh in the middle of his palm was suddenly cut by an invisible sharp blade, and scarlet liquid seeped out from it!
Voldemort clenched his hand, from which blood was dripping, and held it in front of him.
Dumbledore did not stop either. He also cut a cut in the palm of his hand and let the blood gush out.
Two bleeding hands were clasped together, and the blood from different people mixed together, continuously dripping onto the already scarlet carpet.
Dumbledore looked at Voldemort straight in the eye, and his calm face showed what he was thinking.
"So, when will the Warriors be selected and the games start?"
Voldemort said coldly.
"Since we have already made a blood oath, why not start the selection of warriors tomorrow? The Ministry of Magic, which is temporarily under our joint control, is the most suitable location. As for the start time of the competition, what do you say?"
Dumbledore did not speak immediately. He just looked at Voldemort quietly. After a long time, he suddenly laughed.
There was no sarcasm, no coldness, and no restraint or formality in that smile. It was like an old man who was enjoying his retirement at home and heard some funny jokes from his children and grandchildren.
"Ha, too hasty, Riddle, too hasty. In fact, there is no need to be so hasty. Can we change the time of the selection a little bit?"
What puzzled everyone was that they had reached a consensus on the incredible thing before, but now they didn't know why there was such a disagreement on the timing of the Warriors selection.
Dumbledore raised his eyebrows slightly and asked Voldemort's opinion in a gentle tone.
"Since you are so confident, why not take more time?"
Voldemort looked sarcastic for some reason.
"More leeway? When do you want to wait? Next year? The year after? Or your entire life?"
Dumbledore shook his head and said calmly.
"This day next week, that's enough."
Voldemort seemed to have heard some terrible joke; he could no longer suppress his originally cold and sarcastic smile.
"A week? You are an elder, and elders should be given some preferential treatment! So what if I wait for you for a week?"
Dumbledore seemed not to notice the sarcasm in those words. He nodded in acceptance and continued.
"Actually, one week is already quite tight. Since the time for selecting warriors is so tight, we naturally need to allow more time for the selected children to prepare. After all, they are carrying such a big responsibility, and the specific competition process also needs to be decided and discussed, which requires a lot of energy. Therefore, I think it would be better to set the official start time of the competition at the beginning of the new semester in September."
Voldemort seemed to have no opinion on the starting time of the game. He looked at Dumbledore coldly in the eyes.
"It will be a wonderful show, won't it, Albus Dumbledore, my respected professor?"
Dumbledore smiled, and that smile was still so gentle and calm.
"It will certainly be a wonderful show, Tom Riddle, my excellent student."
