Chapter 311: The Destruction of Voldemort

"Come now!" Voldemort urged, his voice filled with temptation. "I will bring her back to life—Lily Evans will live again!"

"From this moment on, she will belong to you alone!"

"She will be your caged songbird!"

Snape hesitated no longer!

His hand shot out like a streak of black shadow!

And at that exact moment—Voldemort's face flickered with shock.

Snape hadn't grabbed the Resurrection Stone—he had seized the Elder Wand!

"You—!"

In that split second, Snape clutched the other end of Voldemort's Elder Wand.

But he hadn't anticipated just how strong Voldemort was.

Even using every ounce of strength left in his weakened body, Snape couldn't wrest the wand from Voldemort's grip!

That brief struggle gave Voldemort just enough time to react.

There was no time to ask why Snape had betrayed him—Just as Voldemort began to mutter a spell, Snape lunged forward and thrust his own wand straight at Voldemort's eyes!

Crack!

They wrestled fiercely.

But Snape was no match for Voldemort.

He was quickly lifted off the ground, caught in the grip of a strength hidden within Voldemort's thin frame.

Yet even then, Snape refused to let go of the Elder Wand.

He made a bold decision—if he couldn't take it, then—He would break it!

"You dare—!"

Voldemort felt as if his chest had been filled with oil and set ablaze!

It wasn't just rage burning inside him, it was fury so intense it threatened to explode!

As he stared at the broken Elder Wand, his eyes burned with murderous hatred.

With violent force, he snatched Snape's other wand, crushing it in his grasp—

Then, he shattered Snape's arm in his grip before slamming him into the ground!

It all happened in the blink of an eye.

Harry hadn't even had time to process his lingering hatred toward Snape—Before his eyes, Snape was hurled onto the ground like a discarded, tattered black sack.

"You dare betray me, Snape?!"

Voldemort roared like a demon from the depths of hell!

His once handsome features twisted with rage, his entire face contorted.

The dark magic experiments that had shaped his body now made him look like a failed, grotesque imitation of his former self.

And the fury consuming him needed to be unleashed.

"You have ruined everything!"

"I promised you the Resurrection Stone!"

"I could give you what they never could!"

"And yet—what did you do?!"

His hoarse, wrathful voice echoed through the Chamber of Secrets. A fury directed at Snape, yet it almost sounded like fate itself was mocking him.

And through it all, the stone statue of Salazar Slytherin remained silent and unmoving. Like a merciless god, watching his descendant's disgrace, witnessing his heir raging like a market hag shrieking in the streets.

But Voldemort could not comprehend it.

Why had Snape betrayed him?

But he no longer cared to think about it—a traitor's fate could only be death!

"Nagini, it's feeding time!"

Voldemort tilted his chin arrogantly, looking down at the writhing, broken Snape, waiting for the pathetic man to be devoured alive.

But—Nagini did not respond.

Voldemort froze for a moment, then glanced down—And to his shock, Nagini was gone.

"Looking for Nagini?"

Cyrus's mocking voice drifted through the air.

Voldemort's gaze snapped toward him.

Not far away, Cyrus was stroking the serpent's head, and Nagini, like a devoted servant, offered him a dark stone as if presenting a treasure.

The Resurrection Stone!

"..Nagini?"

Voldemort stared in disbelief as Cyrus picked up the stone, rolling it between his fingers like a piece of dull obsidian, its once mystical glow completely drained.

"Kek~ Did you really think Nagini was ever fully loyal to you?"

Cyrus toyed with the stone, his voice laced with mockery.

"You're not the only Parselmouth here."

"But my Parseltongue is the strongest!"

Voldemort snapped.

And he was right.

Among the three Parselmouths present, Voldemort was the source of their power—both Harry and Cyrus had inherited their ability from him.

But what Voldemort did not understand was that Nagini was not just a snake—she was also human!

She could never be completely controlled by Parseltongue alone.

"Earlier, you said there are things only you can do, things I cannot—and that is why I will fail."

Cyrus put away the Resurrection Stone, his voice calm as he threw Voldemort's words back at him.

"But what I'm telling you is this—there are things only I can understand, and you never will. And that is why you will fail."

"I can't understand?"

Voldemort had heard these words before.

Ah—Dumbledore used to say the same thing.

He let out a derisive laugh.

"Surely, you're not about to talk to me about love?"

Cyrus did not refute him.

"It's one of the reasons."

Then, he glanced at Snape.

"Do you know why Severus betrayed you, even after you promised him the Resurrection Stone?"

"Enlighten me."

"Perhaps you already know that Lily holds an irreplaceable place in his heart. But you still don't understand. Ten years ago, you thought Lily was just another ordinary Muggle-born witch—someone insignificant, someone whose death meant nothing.

And even now, you see her as nothing more than a tool to manipulate your servants, believing that simply giving Severus possession of her would be enough to satisfy him…"

Cyrus shook his head.

"But he loves her. Just like the second brother in the tale loved his lost beloved. He would never want to see Lily Potter return to this world as a hollow, suffering creature. He never wanted just her body—he wanted her soul."

"Your words are absurd and laughable!"

Voldemort still could not understand—but more importantly, he didn't want to.

Because at this moment, there was only one thing he needed to make clear—"I HAVEN'T LOST YET!"

His expression turned vicious, his eyes filled with manic fury, resembling a wounded wild dog baring its teeth.

"I still have immense power. More importantly—I AM STILL THE MASTER OF THE ELDER WAND!"

"Are you dreaming?" Harry mocked. "You've already lost! The Elder Wand was broken!"

"Is that so?"

Voldemort let out a low, sinister chuckle.

And for the first time, a terrible premonition gripped Harry's heart.

And then—in the very next second.

"Expelliarmus!"

A spell suddenly shot out, hurling Harry backward!

His two wands flew from his robes and landed straight into Voldemort's hands.

Voldemort glanced at them with disdain, then tossed aside the holly wand and Snape's wand, letting them fall uselessly to the ground.

His eyes locked onto Cyrus, his expression dripping with triumph.

"I told you—I am still the master of the other Elder Wand! Avada Kedavra!"

A blinding green light streaked toward Cyrus, the very breath of death filling the Chamber of Secrets!

At this moment, Voldemort was elated!

Even though the situation was not entirely in his favor, it didn't matter—Cyrus and Dumbledore had schemed for so long, linking plan after plan together… And yet—they had still failed! "Neahehe!"

He was still the master of the Elder Wand!

He was still invincible!

All of their intricate strategies—how laughably weak they were in the face of absolute power!

At this moment, what Voldemort most eagerly anticipated was seeing Cyrus's expression—serious, helpless, and resigned.

But when his eyes landed on Cyrus, he saw nothing of the sort.

Instead, Cyrus's face remained calm, illuminated by the eerie glow of the Killing Curse—as if everything was still within his control.

Under Voldemort's astonished gaze, Cyrus raised his hand—And in front of the eyes of every wizard in the world, he caught the Killing Curse.

"This… impossible…"

Voldemort's confidence shattered.

He stumbled backward, his eyes wide and vacant, his breath quickening in panic.

"I have the Elder Wand… I have the Elder Wand… you can't—"

"Are you sure you have it?"

Cyrus's voice was soft, almost amused.

Voldemort's eyes bulged in terror as he snapped his gaze downward, only to see the wand in his grasp crumble into ash, disintegrating like charred wood in the wind.

"Impossible…"

"Did you really think I'd let you take the Elder Wand from Harry's hand?"

Cyrus's question was rhetorical, laced with mockery.

He had known all along that Voldemort would steal Harry's wand.

It had been a trap from the very start.

"The real Elder Wand is with me!"

Cyrus lifted the legendary Deathly Hallow, instantly drawing Voldemort's gaze.

How desperately he had longed for it!

But then, Cyrus simply let it go.

Letting the Elder Wand fall to the ground as if it were nothing more than a useless twig.

Instead, he raised his serpentwood wand once more.

"Avada Kedavra!"

A blinding green flash split through the air like a bolt of lightning!

Voldemort's eyes followed the Elder Wand as it fell, his final moment frozen in time.

And in that instant, the castle itself seemed to crumble.

The shattered world collapsed inward, dragging Voldemort's wretched corpse down into the abyss.

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