HP: Hogwarts Snake

Chapter 462 Words and Duels

"A duel?" Voldemort tilted his head, quite surprised to hear the word. "You want to duel your father?"

He repeated Della's meaning, emphasizing the pronunciation of the word 'father' and using intonation to give the word a lot of other meaning.

For example, authority and power.

“Please believe me, I have no intention of challenging you,” Della said, placing her hand on her chest and bowing slightly, her eyes avoiding Voldemort’s gaze, adopting a humble posture. “But I must respect this wand.”

“Since this is a wand that you can praise,” Della raised her eyes and met Voldemort’s gaze, “then I think you can understand my request.”

"Hmm..." Voldemort pondered, carefully considering Della's words. He wasn't swayed; rather, he was searching for loopholes in Della's words that he could exploit. After thinking for a while, he concluded that there was no good reason, and forcing an outburst would only damage his authority.

Now that he holds absolute power and his strength far surpasses that of others, Voldemort is no longer as reasonable as before. But Della is different. Even if he doesn't want or need a child, the continuation of his bloodline in name only is now before him, before all his power and wealth.

When a father performs worse than his children, he is old and nearing the end of his life.

So even knowing that he still had an absolute advantage in strength, Voldemort restrained himself.

“You’re right, such a wand certainly deserves this treatment,” Voldemort reluctantly agreed with Della, then changed the subject, “but this wand is more powerful than any wand I’ve ever seen, and I’m afraid we won’t be able to find another wand to match it for a duel.”

Voldemort showed no sign of stopping, and Della quietly swallowed, knowing he was trying to steer the conversation back to the matter of concealing the fact that he hadn't reported the matter with the wand.

Some torment is probably unavoidable.

“Now I understand why you’re so anxious about this wand,” Voldemort said, changing the subject. “Anyone who gets their hands on this wand will try every means to possess it, and ideally, keep it forever.”

“Father,” Della, who was reluctant to undergo the excruciating torture, interrupted Voldemort softly, “I know my selfishness is undeniable, but I am truly afraid. Alas, I do not expect you to understand this—and you probably cannot, because you are not weak, and therefore cannot know how desperately the weak seek security by arming themselves.”

As she spoke, Della seemed unable to contain herself and took two quick steps forward, as if trying to close the physical distance between her and her father's hearts. "You said there is no wand that matches you, but I would say there is no one who matches you. It is unfair to compare anything to you. The only difference is whether you are willing to condescend to do so occasionally."

After praising Voldemort with words of adoration, Della's tone gradually softened, returning to humility, "I am very fortunate that you are so approachable to me and have been tolerant of my little whims about the wand. Thank you so much, my father."

......

Voldemort was speechless.

He was never a leader who needed flattery, and Della's words were more like verbal manipulation than flattery. But when he patiently started talking to Della, it showed that, at least in this conversation, language could hold him hostage.

Ah, the opportunity has been missed. If I had said it was a powerful wand and then stopped with all that nonsense about Grindelwald, and had just given Della a Cruciatus Curse, it would have been understandable. But giving it to her now would just seem like I'm angry and embarrassed.

Voldemort, who was extremely concerned about the image between his father and son, could only swallow his anger, while at the same time feeling a sense of pride due to Della's astute judgment and excellent eloquence.

After all, it is because he inherited his bloodline that he has such demeanor.

This realization made him feel like he was still at the absolute peak, which made him happy.

“You are too modest, Della. I am very proud to have a daughter like you,” Voldemort stood up, opened his hand, and a golden wand flew in front of him. “Take it and do your best to bring glory to this wand.”

Dale reached out and took the wand. Voldemort beckoned again, and the wand in Maggie's arms was in his hand. Then he and she looked at each other, slowly walked away, and distanced themselves from each other.

“A simple duel is rather boring, too short and not enough,” Voldemort said as he walked. “How about I test you a little more, Della?”

“With pleasure.” Della deftly held her wand across her chest, exchanged a bow with Voldemort, and listened as he began to recite numbers.

"Then, three—two—one—"

When the word 'one' was read, neither side moved immediately. Voldemort did not want to win unfairly, while Della was cautiously waiting for the right moment. After a brief pause in sync, their attacks followed in unison.

"Burning Flames!"

"An invisible shield!"

The enormous fire dragon roared toward Della, the shockwave it generated blowing the stray hairs around her ears before it even reached her. The devastating fire dragon was blocked halfway through its journey.

What stopped the Demon King's spell? There's nothing here—oh! I've got it!

Voldemort thrust his wand forward further, and the fire dragon roared again, pushing forward with all its might. It was this powerful charge that forced out the ancient patterns of the invisible shield.

The dragon and the shield were locked in a stalemate, seemingly evenly matched, but Della's expression was far less composed than Voldemort's.

She gritted her teeth, needing to brace her left hand behind her right hand, which was holding the wand, to keep herself steady.

“Not bad, very good,” Voldemort praised, his eyes fixed on the wand Della was holding.

Before the words were even finished, the stalemate between the dragon and the shield shifted slightly. Della's shield remained sturdy, but it had begun to retreat. Voldemort could clearly sense this; if it weren't for the wand he was holding, Della's shield would likely have shattered.

Once the shield, now shaped by fire, began to retreat, it couldn't stop, retreating further and further, getting closer and closer to Della.

The moment of decision has arrived; showing off is definitely the worst option.

Della narrowed her eyes, her wand twirling slightly. She quickly ran through the spells in her mind, eliminating those related to water, lest she extinguish Voldemort's fire and give others cause for gossip.

After selecting the spell, she acted decisively, unleashing the new spell without a moment's hesitation: "Thunderous Roar!"

A raging wind mixed with lightning took over from the round shield and confronted the ferocious fire dragon. After several explosions caused by the collision of thunder and fire, the rushing wind swallowed the fire dragon and swept it upwards.

If it is destined to be unbreakable, the only option is to avoid damage.

boom--

Another loud bang, accompanied by the tremor of the ground beneath their feet, and the roof of the manor was blasted open by a fire tornado of wind and fire. The moment the sunlight poured in, Della's wand flew away.

"Avoid your weapons."

Voldemort's deep voice reached everyone's ears amidst the chaos.

He won the duel.