Chapter 406: The Righteous Mob Beatdown

Voldemort slowly rose from the ruins, the wound on his chest healing at a visibly rapid rate, but his expression was dreadfully grim.

"Gryffindor Sword..." Voldemort's voice was low and hoarse, tinged with an incredulous anger.

It was that hat.

That damned hat actually concealed the Gryffindor Sword.

Even now, Voldemort still hasn't seen the truth.

The Sorting Hat is merely a medium; what truly gave John the sword was his own brave, fearless heart.

As the Headmaster Portrait in the Headmaster's Office once said, the Gryffindor Sword will appear only in the hands of those who truly need it.

But none of that matters now.

Swoosh!

John's sword suddenly ignited with a layer of golden flame, and he, like a cannonball, lunged toward Voldemort.

Voldemort didn't dare to be bold.

Since the Mercury Shield can be broken, he switched to other physical defenses.

He swung his wand violently, a massive Stone Wall materialized before him, and he swiftly retreated.

But John didn't dodge at all; the Gryffindor Sword in his hand, wrapped in golden flame, slammed into the Stone Wall.

Boom!

The Stone Wall exploded with a roar, the sword's light undiminished, slashing Voldemort again and hurling him away.

Voldemort's body tumbled in the air before he could steady himself.

John reignited his golden flame, becoming a streak of Light Stream that surged straight at the airborne Voldemort.

He struck down with another sword swing.

Voldemort, relying on his extreme reaction speed, barely conjured a massive shield, but he and the shield were sliced down to the ground, creating a deep crater.

Amidst the swirling dust, Voldemort scrambled up, a trickle of fresh blood spilling from his mouth.

"Enough!"

"Meilik! Don't think that grabbing a broken sword lets you defeat me!"

Voldemort roared, transforming into a cloud of Black Mist that rose upward.

His wand emitted a flickering green light, and the next second, the Green Death Curse rained down on John like raindrops.

John, wielding the Gryffindor Sword, turned into a streak of Light Stream, darting around the arena at high speed.

The fine green Death Curse exploded behind him, yet it never caught up with John's figure.

Bang!

Until John accelerated sharply, arriving directly beneath Voldemort, then kicked off his feet and shot straight upward.

Voldemort's pupils contracted, and without a moment to think, he swung his wand down hard, a thick green beam shooting straight down.

John, however, charged straight into that thick Death Curse.

The Gryffindor Sword in his hand slashed horizontally, colliding head‑on with the green Death Curse.

Boom—!

The deafening explosion roared, golden and green light intertwining and bursting in midair, forming visible concentric shockwaves.

Voldemort and John were both knocked back, each flying backward.

John steadied himself in midair, barely having time to breathe, and swung his sword again toward Voldemort.

Voldemort had just regained his footing when John was already upon him, and he clenched his teeth, swinging his wand in retaliation.

Rumble!!

The two collided again, spell and swordlight intertwining, exploding into dazzling flashes.

John's assault was incredibly swift, sword after sword.

Voldemort could only defend passively, retreating repeatedly.

He dared not let John get close, nor let the sword touch his wand.

He could only keep pulling distance, yet John clung to him like a leech, giving him no breathing room.

John also knew that ordinary spells had no effect on Voldemort.

At present, the Gryffindor Sword was his only weapon capable of inflicting effective damage on Voldemort.

Thus he had to engage in close‑quarters combat.

Because his own time was running out.

The power of his soul was about to wane; he had to utterly crush Voldemort before his final strength was spent!

"Get out of my way!" Voldemort roared, his wand jerking violently, and a burst of Fierce Fire surged out, pushing John back several steps.

But after John steadied himself, he raised his sword and charged upward again.

One sword cleaved the Fierce Fire wall, disregarding the scorching risk, and pressed forward again.

Voldemort was forced into a relentless retreat by John's reckless assault.

But he also sensed an urgent aura from John; though he didn't know why, the more frantic John became, the more it benefited him.

So he consciously altered his tactics, no longer meeting force with force, but fighting while retreating to stall time.

Sure enough, he could clearly feel John's speed waning, his sword swings no longer as fierce as before.

A cold smile curled at Voldemort's mouth.

In the distance, on the Corridor Bridge.

"John's movements have become completely erratic; he seems very hurried,"

Harry, watching the battle, also noticed John's change and said with some concern.

Hermione furrowed her brow, as if she had just remembered something.

"Bad, John's soul must be about to give out again!"

"What!?" Hearing that, Harry and the others were all startled.

"What do we do then?" Ron, anxiously gripping the railing, said, "We have to help him!"

"But if we go, we'll only make things worse..." Ginny, standing nearby, looked at the sky‑filled the Death Eaters and said bitterly.

"We still have to go!"

Hermione clenched her teeth and drew her wand.

This time, she won't let John face everything alone.

But before she could act, they noticed three familiar figures appearing at the edge of the battlefield where the two were dueling.

John and Voldemort were locked in an indecisive struggle.

"Ha!"

John let out a fierce shout, gripped the sword hilt with both hands, and unleashed a powerful downward slash like Huashan.

Voldemort's eyes flashed with contempt, and he immediately sidestepped to dodge.

But at that moment,

Boom—

Three Earth Walls rose simultaneously to Voldemort's left, right, and rear, and he couldn't react in time, crashing straight into the right wall.

Not only Voldemort was stunned, John was stunned as well.

But neither of them had a chance to react.

Sss!!

John's sword struck Voldemort's left shoulder with a heavy blow, blood spraying, and knocked off his already crippled left arm.

The Mercury Magic that had been attached to the left arm, now severed, turned into a puddle of silvery liquid that spilled onto the ground.

"Ugh—ahhh!!!"

Voldemort let out a harrowing scream, was sliced and sent flying, and crashed heavily among the ruins.

John, after landing, turned his head to glance back.

In the distance, Titus, Ryan, and Ethan had, at some point, broken out of Hogwarts's protective shield.

They all raised their wands, their faces full of excitement as they looked at him.

John, seeing the three of them risk their lives to help, wanted to scold them for being reckless, but a hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"Never early, never late—showing up at the crucial moment just to steal an assist, huh!"

John, irritated, shouted at the three.

"Enough chatter, kill him together!"

The three smiled, then waved their wands and attacked Voldemort.

John took a deep breath, knowing the once‑in‑a‑lifetime chance was right before him.

He gripped the Gryffindor Sword tightly and charged at Voldemort again.

Voldemort clutched his broken arm, his eyes filled with madness and resentment.

"You despicable wretch!!" He howled madly, clutching his bleeding left shoulder.

He had the victory in hand, yet was ambushed by a swarm of ants!

Voldemort's voice twisted with anger, his scarlet eyes fixed on Titus and the others as if to devour them whole.

"Who the hell dared to duel you one‑on‑one!"

John brandished his sword and rushed forward again, still mocking with a taunt.

Hearing that, Voldemort, in a frenzy, swung his wand and blasted a massive Killing Curse at John.

But the spell hadn't reached John before a sudden shield blocked it and deflected it.

It was Ryan's Transfiguration.

John instantly turned his head, slipped around the shield, moving like lightning, and slashed Voldemort's chest again.

Voldemort winced in pain, his face wild as he swung his wand again.

But a sudden stone pillar crashed from the side into his waist and abdomen, knocking him off balance and forcing him to stagger back.

It was Ethan's Barrier Curse.

John seized the chance and slashed Voldemort's chest once more.

He carved a decorative slash across Voldemort's chest, blood spraying everywhere.

Voldemort, shocked and enraged, also wore an indescribable mix of bewilderment and fear after losing control.

Their sudden intervention completely disrupted Voldemort's rhythm.

It caused him to suffer successive heavy blows, and the advantage he had instantly collapsed.

He never expected to find himself in such a disgraceful plight.

At that moment another Floating Spell struck Voldemort's body, lifting him sharply upward.

It was Titus's Floating Spell.

Although Voldemort broke free after a brief instant, it still gave John the opening.

This sword swung straight at Voldemort's face.

He had no way to dodge, and instinctively raised his wand to block.

"Clang—!!"

A crisp, non‑slashing wand sound burst out.

In an instant, an invisible barrier surrounding the wand shattered, and countless Black Mist, accompanied by a mournful wail, surged from the wand and dissipated into the air.

Horcrux.

Destroyed!