'Oops! I Stole the Isekai Lottery'-Chapter 71: The Death of Voldemort: Raja’s Ultimate Battle

The Forbidden Forest – One Hour Ago!

Deep in the heart of the Forbidden Forest, the air crackled with tension. In a secluded clearing, Harry Potter was strapped to a runic table, glowing inscriptions pulsing across his skin as the last remnants of Voldemort's soul were carefully extracted. Standing by, arms crossed, Raja observed the scene with a mocking expression, his gaze fixed on the Dark Lord.

Lord Voldemort stood, his nostrils flaring in anger. Slithering by his side was Nagini, her golden eyes gleaming with hunger.

The Dark Lord's lips curled into a sneer. "Rudra D. Raja Kumara," he hissed. "You have meddled for the last time. Tonight, your story ends."

Raja smirked, unfazed. "Tom, you dramatic noodle. You say that every time, and yet here I am, stealing your stuff and ruining your life."

Voldemort's crimson eyes flared. With a sharp flick of his wand, he roared, "AVADA KEDAVRA!"

Raja's body blurred—he dodged, twisting mid-air as the deadly green light soared past him.

Voldemort and Raja clashed like titanic forces of nature, transforming the Forbidden Forest into a chaotic battlefield.

Dark green energy collided with golden lightning.

Spells shattered trees, sending splinters flying like bullets.

Nagini lunged with fangs bared, only to be intercepted by a conjured storm of blades.

"ZAP!" Raja blinked behind Voldemort, whispering in his ear, "Too slow, Tommy."

Voldemort snarled, spinning mid-air. "SECTUMSEMPRA!"

A wave of invisible blades slashed toward Raja—only for him to flick his wrist, redirecting them toward the trees, slicing them like butter.

Voldemort's rage exploded. "BOMBARD MAXIMA!"

A massive explosion tore through the forest, sending Raja flying. He landed gracefully, dusting himself off. "Nice fireworks, Tommy. What's next? A smoke machine?"

The Dark Lord hissed, "DIE!" and unleashed a barrage of dark magic, the ground cracking under the force.

Raja countered with Stormbreaker, calling upon celestial lightning that rained down in blinding arcs, meeting Voldemort's spells head-on. The shockwave from their clash flattened an entire section of the forest.

For one hour, their battle raged—neither giving an inch—until finally...

Harry's operation was complete. The Runic Stone, pulsing with dark energy, had absorbed Voldemort's soul fragment.

Raja's eyes gleamed. "Showtime."

With inhuman speed, he darted toward the stone.

"Nagini! Stop him!" Voldemort commanded. The massive serpent slithered forward, but before she could reach Raja—

POP!

Two bodies materialized, summoned by Dobby.

Voldemort's blood ran cold. His eyes widened in disbelief.

"BELLATRIX?! ANTONIN?!"

His most loyal lieutenants—lifeless, limp, and cold.

"Impossible," Voldemort whispered, his confidence shattered.

As Voldemort kneeled, broken and powerless, Raja stood over him, smirking like a chess grandmaster about to deliver checkmate. The battlefield fell silent, all eyes on the Supreme Wizard King as he delivered his final, cutting monologue—like Sherlock Holmes revealing how he outplayed his opponent from the very start.

"Tell me, Tom... did you really think it would be that easy?" Raja sneered. "That attacking Hogwarts was some grand stroke of genius?"

Raja chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. "Oh, you poor, delusional snake. You walked right into the very trap I built for you. Do you honestly think I didn't plan this? That I didn't spend months orchestrating every little step, planting the very thought of attacking Hogwarts into that bald head of yours? You didn't come here by your choice, Tom. I brought you here."

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Voldemort gasped, his body trembling as the realization dawned.

"You see, every chess player knows—you don't push your enemy. You pull them. Make them believe the next move was their idea, when in truth, you dictated it all along. That's what I did to you, Tom. I gave you breadcrumbs—just enough to make you believe you had a chance."

"The stolen Horcruxes? That was the first hook. I wanted you to know they were gone. I wanted you to panic, to fear your own mortality. And what does a cornered animal do, Tom? It lashes out."

"Then I made sure Snape came crawling to you, panting with 'desperate' information—feeding you the exact details I wanted you to hear. 'Hogwarts is vulnerable! Dumbledore is absent! The students are weak! The Aurors are distracted!' I made you think you were the predator. But you were just a rat following the scent of cheese straight into my trap."

Raja paced around Voldemort like a detective unveiling the final truth.

"The 'coincidental' Ministry party? That was me.

The 'perfect timing' for an attack? That was me.

The illusion that your victory was inevitable? That was me."

"You see, Tommy, you didn't attack Hogwarts. I invited you here."

"The moment you stepped into this battlefield, you had already lost. Because I knew you—better than you knew yourself. I knew your arrogance would blind you. I knew you would never suspect that a child was playing you like a fiddle. I knew you would walk into this battle thinking you had already won."

"And the best part? I let you believe it. For weeks, I played the fool—letting you think you had control. But I was never fighting you in a battle of wands, Tom. I was fighting you in a battle of minds."

"And as usual..."

You lost.

Checkmate, Dark Lord.

"Dobby! Take Harry and Nagini to the chambers. Burn the Horcruxes in the Sunfire Furnace."

"Yes, Lord!" Dobby blinked and vanished with Harry, Nagini, and the Runic Stone.

"NOOOOOOOOO!" Voldemort's agonized scream echoed as he clutched his burning chest. His very soul was being ripped apart as Dobby destroyed the Horcruxes.

His body convulsed in pain—real, tangible pain. Something he hadn't felt in decades.

"How does it feel, Tom?" Raja sneered. "To be truly mortal again?"

Voldemort dropped to his knees, his once-fearsome presence reduced to nothing. His eyes filled with desperation.

"Mercy," he croaked.

Raja's laughter was cold and unforgiving.

"How many begged you for mercy, Tom?" Raja's eyes burned with fury. "How many did you kill, anyway?"

Raising his hand to the heavens, Raja summoned the storm.

"HEAVENLY THUNDER!"

A colossal bolt of divine lightning obliterated Voldemort. His final scream was drowned in the thunderclap. And just like that—the Dark Lord was no more.

Raja rode Ragnarok, the hybrid dragon, with Voldemort's charred body in tow, heading toward the Hogwarts battlefield, where the final remnants of the war had settled.

Raja dropped the charred body of Voldemort onto the ground. Silence fell.

The moment the defenders saw his lifeless form, an eerie hush spread across the battlefield.

Raja casually levitated the corpse, then burned it in front of everyone with a Sunfire Spell. The fire consumed the last remains of the Dark Lord in seconds.

And then—

Raja roared.

His voice shook the earth, the sky trembled, and from afar, Ragnarok the dragon also responded.

The students, the Aurors, the professors—everyone—joined in.

The roar of victory.

As the celebration erupted, Raja casually pulled out a crystal and released a cinematic masterpiece to the press and to Madam Bones—"THE FALL OF VOLDEMORT: DIRECTOR'S CUT".

It had:

✅ Epic battle montages

✅ Slow-motion fight sequences

✅ Dramatic background music

✅ Raja's iconic villain monologue

The press and newspapers went wild.

"THE SUPREME WIZARD KING HAS RISEN!"

"MERLIN'S REINCARNATION CONFIRMED!"

"RAJA: THE LEGEND, THE MYTH, THE MEME."

And thus, the Age of Voldemort was over.

The Age of Chaos had begun.

And Raja?

He was just getting started.