Chapter 87: Duel at the Apex
"Look very carefully, Nero. This is what a duel at the summit of magic looks like."
Dumbledore's voice was steady, but there was a gravity to it that made Nero's breath hitch.
Despite knowing this was a memory, Nero could feel it.
The shift in the air. The sheer weight of the two powers clashing before his eyes.
The hall, once a place of knowledge and debate, was now a battlefield.
At one end, Voldemort stood like a wraith, his serpentine face split by a cruel smirk.
The flickering torchlight cast eerie shadows across his gaunt features, his crimson eyes burning with something close to euphoric hunger.
On the other side, Jonathan Ravenclaw stood tall, his dark robes billowing slightly, an aura of absolute composure surrounding him.
Unlike Voldemort, who radiated raw, oppressive malice, Jonathan exuded an overwhelming stillness, as if he was time itself, untouched by the chaos around him.
The sheer difference in their presence made Nero's throat tighten.
The tension was suffocating.