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On some level—
Grindelwald's style mirrored Tiger's with alarming similarity. Both were madmen willing to challenge order. Consequences be damned.
Or rather—
They themselves were order...
As fangs closed in—
Grindelwald snapped his fingers calmly. His upright, defiant form vanished instantly.
Then mysterious silver-blue flames rose like a storm. Swept toward Venom overwhelmingly.
This signature magic made the portraits scream uncontrollably.
"How was he released!"
"Damn it, Dumbledore, have you lost your mind!"
Armando Dippet's eyes widened in horror.
"You bastard Gryffindor, more evil than Slytherin itself, you don't deserve..."
Phineas Black's acerbic face twisted to the extreme. Eyes couldn't hide fear.
Dumbledore expressionlessly waved the Elder Wand. Water-thin membranes slowly covered every corner of the office. Completely isolated the hysterical screams.
"Bastard, you okay!"
Flames tightly wrapped around Venom.
Inexplicable numbness swept through his body. As if alive. Slowly gnawing at the symbiote's shell.
"Damn it, this fire's wrong!"
Venom roared furiously. Thought he'd long been immune to flames. Quite surprised by this.
"This isn't fire..."
Tiger's brow furrowed. The instant Venom missed, he'd already adjusted his stance. Kicked off the ground away from the second floor. Lunged toward the figure appearing nearby.
In fact—
His sensation was far more obvious than Venom's.
Indescribable icy cold. Like an inescapable plague. Rapidly spread throughout his body. Penetrated flesh and bone. Even his soul depths transmitted spasm-like pain.
This wasn't fire. More like some combination of dark magic and powerful curse. Just using flames as carrier.
Facing Venom's instant arrival—
Grindelwald's brow raised slightly. Showed interested expression. Brilliant arcs surged around him.
The floor suddenly sprouted spikes. Wrapped in strange black mist. Like colliding tsunamis. Closed in on Venom decisively.
Venom's arms instantly transformed into heavy giant curved blades. Intermittent fluorescence appeared on the edges.
Wind howled. Blades spun rapidly. Like cutting tofu. Sliced the colliding tsunami into fragments.
Anti-magic?
Grindelwald's eyes flickered. His gaze toward Dumbledore carried sympathy and mockery.
This was indeed the ability wizards least wanted to see. Especially for White Wizards like Dumbledore.
But for him—completely not a problem.
Compared to the White Wizard's consistent restraint and composure, Grindelwald displayed more intense destructiveness and elusive strangeness.
Wisps of black mist visibly seeped into Venom's body. Furious roars followed. Tiger clearly felt his body's condition rapidly declining.
"Get close to him, Venom!"
Tiger's eyes grew calmer.
Seeing Venom charge from the rubble, Grindelwald naturally understood Tiger's thinking.
But what he didn't expect—
The grotesque, twisted shell suddenly retracted. Catapulted Tiger out. Bronze ring instantly became the Basilisk Staff. Under Tiger's fierce grin. Like swinging a baseball bat. Viciously swung toward Grindelwald's temple.
Grindelwald's eye twitched.
Never experienced this kind of fighting in his life.
The merciless strike shattered Grindelwald's head into stone dust. Tiger showed no surprise. Instead seemed to vent. Gave the statue two more strikes.
Violent force pulverized this statue identical to Grindelwald's face.
Dumbledore watched this scene. An indescribable satisfaction welled up inexplicably.
Dozens of Grindelwald figures appeared in the room. Palms turned. Floor twisted and flipped. Chains fell like rain. Metal cages rose from the ground.
The Grindelwald closest to the White Wizard wore an expression of complete understanding. Coldly snorted at Dumbledore: "You've wanted to do this for ages, right?"
"For ages?"
"No, Gellert."
"Trust me. Every single moment..."
Dumbledore's tone full of disdain.
Before he finished speaking—
Hellfire exploded. A crimson chain swept from the flames. The figures standing in the room collapsed like decayed lime.
The bone skull walked from the flames. Coldly surveyed the remaining figures. The curse and pain wrapped around his soul completely vanished.
However, what surprised Tiger—
All identical figures in the room had the same soul. Not illusions nor stone substitutes.
Obviously—
This wasn't some inferior soul-splitting trick.
But a more sinister dark magic. Tiger could clearly hear the shrill wails within each figure.
With low, eerie laughter, scorching hot chains shot out like living things...
The instant he saw the Ghost Rider—
Grindelwald's relaxed smile froze abruptly.
The atmosphere grew strange. He slowly turned toward the warmly smiling Dumbledore. Then burst out an incredulous curse.
"Holy Shit!"
"Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, have you lost your mind!!!"
The Dark Lord who'd been elegant and noble his whole life suddenly broke. He wanted to grab Dumbledore's collar. Shake out the crystallized syrup inside.
Whether him or Dumbledore—both had trekked to the edge on the difficult wizard's path.
Facing death—
They had no fear.
They pursued more vast unknown paths. And the sublimation and transformation of their soul's core.
However, standing before him was Hellfire.
The existence that judged evil. Annihilated souls.
Hell, he really wanted to return to Nurmengard.
If not for sufficient understanding of those around him, he'd even think Dumbledore was plotting against him!
Grindelwald's methods and magic were undoubtedly the purest dark wizard. Though he himself didn't think so.
But once caught by Hellfire, even for just an instant, his soul would absolutely vanish quickly. The kind with accelerant added...
Simultaneously, Grindelwald also detected that trace of weak divinity in Tiger's eyes. This was power Dumbledore had contacted but rejected. He knew clearly.
When humans became "gods"—how terrifying.
Wizards utilized rules. "Gods" created rules.
Watching the completely shattered clones in the room, Grindelwald silently sighed. Then decisively retreated half a step.
Not fighting anymore.
Not that he couldn't win. But didn't dare fight.
Facing Hellfire, even with ninety-nine percent win rate, he wouldn't gamble on that one percent.
And most importantly—
He hadn't heard enough of the White Wizard's confessions.
Decades of loneliness finally echoed. Ultimately gave this solitary, proud Dark Lord some softness.
"So, you're just tired..."
Grindelwald's lips curved without humor. As if saying "if you don't stop him, I'm going back to Nurmengard."
"Tiger, you're about to be late."
"Though last year's exams were canceled, Polly's still worried about your grades. She sent several letters to Professor Sprout and Professor McGonagall..."
Dumbledore slightly beckoned. A letter suddenly floated from the completely ruined desk. Slowly flew before the bone skull. The bloody wolf head seal particularly clear.
"Of course, there's also yours..."
Voice fell. Dumbledore glanced lightly beside him.
The White Wizard never planned single threads.
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