From the moment he entered the Harry Potter world, Lyon had noticed something.
This world did not seem to possess a World Consciousness.
The entire world functioned purely based on the natural laws of the universe.
Which, when he thought about it, made sense.
World Consciousness was something typically found only in high-level worlds.
The fact that the Resident Evil world had managed to develop one was already an extraordinary stroke of luck among countless other worlds.
There was no way he would encounter one everywhere he went.
Since there was no World Consciousness here, if Lyon wanted to explore this world's magic system, he would have to plan it out himself.
Given the circumstances, he had no intention of wasting time.
But if he wanted to keep Mordo and the others at Hogwarts to study new magic, it only made sense to take care of the villain first.
Which was why, from the very beginning, Lyon had already locked onto Voldemort's location.
At this moment, Lyon raised his right hand and traced a circle in the air, casting another Mystic Gate.
As the portal opened, it revealed a dark and eerie castle hall. Only a few ghostly blue flames flickered on the walls, resembling clusters of will-o'-the-wisps.
At the far end of the hall stood Voldemort.
Coiled at his feet was a massive serpent, twelve feet long.
In front of him, Narcissa Malfoy and her son cowered in fear, while Snape stood with his head bowed, reporting something.
That snake—Nagini—was Voldemort's last remaining Horcrux.
"It's Voldemort!" Harry gasped as soon as he realized what he was seeing. "And Snape! He's here—he must have just reported back after killing the professor!"
"Eh?" Voldemort turned at the sound, his gaze passing through the portal.
His eyes first locked onto Harry—And then, they froze on Dumbledore.
"Dumbledore!?"
Dumbledore stared back at Voldemort. "Tom."
"How are you still alive?"
Voldemort—noseless, his appearance resembling that of a withered ghoul—froze for a second.
Then, his gaze turned viciously toward Snape. "Severus, you told me he was dead."
"What in the Merlin's name..." But Snape was just as bewildered.
He turned and saw Dumbledore, and for the first time, his ever-cold, glacier-like expression wavered. "Impossible..."
He had been the one who cast the curse.
He had watched Dumbledore's body grow cold.
So who was standing beyond that golden portal?
Dumbledore's spirit?
Snape's mind was filled with questions.
Voldemort, on the other hand, was consumed only by rage.
He had already harbored suspicions about Snape for a long time.
But he never expected that Snape would dare to lie about something as crucial as Dumbledore's death.
For a brief moment, Voldemort's expression twisted with seething fury.
But soon, he began to laugh, stretching his pale, withered face into a grotesque, frog-like grin.
He seemed to be trying to maintain some semblance of composure.
After all, the Dark Lord was the leader of the pure-bloods, and pure-bloods were always elegant... right?
But anyone could see that beneath that forced smile lay barely restrained violence.
"Uh, so that squid-faced guy is Voldemort? To be honest, he's a bit uglier than I expected," Tony commented with sharp precision.
"Pfft~! Now that you mention it, he does look like Squidward… just, you know, without the nose," Lyon agreed.
Voldemort's strained smile instantly faltered.
His expression darkened, and his cold, piercing gaze swept over Lyon and Tony. In his mind, their death sentences had already been written.
But for now, his primary target was still the white-bearded old man.
"Dumbledore… you've finally come to die."
Voldemort slowly raised his wand, chanting in a deliberate, measured tone.
"Avada Kedavra!"
A thick, arm-sized beam of green magic shot straight toward Dumbledore.
A welcoming gift from Voldemort.
He had deliberately cast the spell slowly, channeling his full power into it, forcing Dumbledore into a situation where he would have no choice but to dodge.
However, just as the Killing Curse shot forward, one of the unfamiliar faces who had just mocked Voldemort casually stepped forward.
Lyon effortlessly swung his palm.
And slapped the Avada Kedavra midair.
Then, Voldemort's full-powered attack… disintegrated.
The green beam, upon being struck, unraveled from the point of impact, breaking apart inch by inch like a water column being sliced against its own flow by a sharp blade.
The collapse spread rapidly all the way back to its source.
Straight to Voldemort's wand!
"Ugh—!"
An immense force slammed into Voldemort's right hand, violently knocking it aside and forcing him to stumble backward several steps.
At the same time, with a sharp crack, his wand snapped in half.
"Impossible!" Voldemort's eyes widened in utter disbelief as he stared at his broken wand.
Lyon, who had just slapped the Killing Curse into oblivion, clenched his fingers experimentally. "Hmm… how should I put this? It felt a bit like washing my hands in clean water. Not bad."
He then offered his critique: "This magic, which fuses murderous intent into its attacks, is quite an interesting concept. But your killing intent is too weak. Try training for another few centuries."
In terms of sheer willpower on a cosmic scale, Lyon's presence alone was enough to outclass Voldemort by light-years.
Saying Voldemort's killing intent was weak was no exaggeration. It was simply a fact.
Voldemort's disbelieving gaze shifted from his broken wand to Lyon's face.
His pale, snakelike features trembled—he wanted to say something, anything—but no words came out.
And he wasn't the only one.
Harry, Dumbledore, and the others weren't doing much better.
Washing hands in clean water..?
The always dignified and composed Professor Dumbledore had his mouth hanging so wide open, he could have stuffed his entire beard inside.
Harry, on the other hand, looked like he was seriously questioning everything he knew about reality.
But Lyon didn't waste time standing around in shock with them.
With a simple push of his hands, the portal expanded and moved, engulfing Voldemort and his followers.
In an instant, the golden circular gateway transported them all from the dimly lit castle hall to the open grounds outside Hogwarts—before sealing shut behind them.
The sudden change in surroundings left Voldemort, Snape, and the others visibly stunned.
"Professor Dumbledore, this is a rare opportunity," Lyon suddenly said.
"Allow me to demonstrate some of Kamar-Taj's signature magic for you."
Before Dumbledore could even respond, Lyon abruptly grabbed Banner and slapped his soul right out of his body—While leaving the Hulk's spirit inside!!
"ROAR! HULK!"
Banner's body swelled rapidly, tearing through his clothes as he transformed into the towering, three-meter-tall green giant. He threw his head back and let out an earth-shaking roar.
"It's decided then! Hulk, I choose you! Go! Use Hulk Smash!" Lyon pointed dramatically at Voldemort.
"Hulk… REFUSE!"
Instead, Hulk pounded a massive fist against his own face.
Truth be told, he really wanted to punch Lyon instead, but something deep in his subconscious warned him that doing so would lead to very bad things.
Lyon, completely unfazed, turned to Voldemort and shouted, "Tom, you see this guy next to me? His nickname is The Voldemort Fucker. You're so fucked for today!"
Voldemort was still reeling from the sudden teleportation to Hogwarts.
Hearing Lyon's words, his expression darkened.
He scanned his surroundings.
And, realizing that this fight was now unavoidable—
He didn't hesitate. With a swift motion, he unleashed a Blasting Curse straight at Hulk.
A fiery explosion erupted across Hulk's massive frame, forcing him to stagger slightly as flames engulfed his body.
"ROAR!"
This time, Lyon didn't even need to give the command.
Hulk charged straight through the fire, leaping right at Voldemort.
Under the stunned gazes of hundreds of onlookers—
Hulk decked Voldemort in the face with a single punch, sending him crashing into the ground.
Hulk immediately grabbed Voldemort by the arm—the one holding his wand—
With a single swing, he smashed him straight into the ground.
BANG!
The impact was so heavy that it felt like the earth itself shook.
But that wasn't enough for Hulk.
He lifted Voldemort again—and slammed him down a second time.
Then again.
And again.
BANG!BANG!
The thunderous slamming sounds echoed nonstop.
With each impact, hundreds of hearts in the audience clenched in sheer disbelief.
Hulk wasn't moving fast, but each strike was brutally heavy.
And yet—Voldemort endured...
At first, he cursed and screamed, trying to resist.
Then, his cries turned into pained howls.
Then, desperate pleas and offers of negotiation.
Finally… silence.
For a solid two to three minutes, the only sounds that filled the air were the relentless smack of flesh meeting earth—
And the faint, involuntary gulps of those watching.
At that moment, Hulk suddenly realized—
Smashing people was actually really fun.
"…Isn't this a bit too much?" Banner's soul floated beside Lyon, watching in hesitation.
Lyon shrugged. "What's wrong with it? This is officially a signature spell of Kamar-Taj from now on!"
Dumbledore, standing nearby, twitched uncontrollably as he watched.
Brutal. This is far too brutal. What kind of wizards are these Kamar-Taj people!?
"T-This… Lord Lyon, your Transfiguration skills are truly extraordinary!" He had completely misunderstood, assuming that Lyon had enlarged Banner using Transfiguration.
"Thank you for the compliment, but it's just a minor trick, nothing worth mentioning." Lyon smiled slightly.
With a flick of his right hand, his psychic power reached out and pulled Nagini—Voldemort's final Horcrux—toward him.
Just as he had done with Harry earlier, Lyon pressed his palms together and erased the fragment of Voldemort's soul within Nagini.
That was it.
Voldemort's last Horcrux was gone.
At the exact moment the Horcrux was destroyed,
Voldemort—who had already fallen completely silent—suddenly let out one final, agonized wail.
But that scream… was his last.
A second later.
He disintegrated into dust, his fragmented remains scattering into the wind.
Honestly, he should have already been dead—after being smashed into pulp by Hulk for that long.
He had only managed to hold on because of the peculiar nature of his soul, stubbornly clinging to a sliver of existence.
But now, with all his Horcruxes destroyed, his soul had lost its anchors.
All the accumulated damage from Hulk's relentless beating came crashing down at once—
And in an instant, he crumbled into dust.
"…Hulk?" Hulk scratched his head in confusion, staring at the empty space where his smashing toy had been.
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