Though it was still morning, the sky was as dark as deepest night.
Heavy storm clouds blanketed the heavens, but not a single drop of rain fell. From within the churning clouds came intermittent cries of pain and shrill screams.
Then suddenly, one patch of cloud exploded open. A force of magic, moving too fast for the naked eye to follow, twisted the laws of physics and slammed into Voldemort.
Voldemort shot downward like a falling star and crashed into the earth. The sheer impact tore open the ground and blasted out a deep crater.
At once, the surrounding plants withered on a massive scale, and a nauseating aura of death surged into the sky. Voldemort, his body in tatters, rose back into the air, and deathly magic condensed into a scythe that slashed toward Grindelwald.
As this happened, Voldemort's wounds healed at astonishing speed. In moments he was whole again, and his aura not only failed to weaken, but actually grew stronger.
The death-soaked scythe swept through Grindelwald, yet did not affect him in the slightest. Looking closely, one could see that the instant the scythe fell, a faint distortion, hazy and unreal, had appeared across it.
It was that distortion that let Grindelwald evade the terrifying strike.
Even in a battle at this level, where long-distance Apparition could not be used to disengage, Grindelwald, having become an Eternal Wizard through modern magic, could still use Apparition instantly at short range. He could even force Apparition onto an enemy, causing their attacks to miss.
This was another technique Grindelwald had gradually grasped in battle. As he fought Voldemort, his strength was improving at a tremendous pace.
But even so, it was not enough to decide the battle.
Grindelwald hovered in the air, looking at Voldemort as he let out a slight breath.
Voldemort was simply too durable. No matter what method Grindelwald used, no matter how completely he suppressed him, Voldemort could restore all his injuries in an instant.
An Eternal Wizard's stamina was astonishing, but it was not infinite. After so many full-powered attacks, Grindelwald was beginning to show signs of fatigue, while Voldemort, who had mostly been taking hits and only counterattacking now and then, still had plenty left in reserve.
More importantly, Grindelwald was not the only one growing in battle.
He could feel it clearly. Voldemort was getting stronger. He was becoming more and more skilled at controlling Death God's power.
This was destined to be a long, brutal fight.
And it was not a fair one.
Grindelwald looked at Voldemort, scythe in hand, and a trace of anticipation appeared on his face.
Voldemort froze.
His hand, loosely holding the scythe, relaxed without thinking.
A sudden impulse stirred in the place where his heart should have been.
Something was calling to him.
The strange sensation made Voldemort uneasy. The thing luring him seemed to be beneath his feet.
His instincts told him something was wrong, yet another instinct urged him to dig deeper into that feeling.
Conflict appeared on Voldemort's face.
Grindelwald, however, had no such hesitation.
He seized the opportunity at once.
"Fiendfyre."
Grindelwald spoke softly.
A blue-green flame appeared from nowhere. At first it was only a tiny, insignificant flicker, but the instant it emerged, it began devouring all the magic around it.
Death God's magic.
Grindelwald's magic.
Every scrap of magic in existence.
In the blink of an eye, the Fiendfyre had taken the form of a vicious Erumpent, pawing furiously in midair before charging straight at Voldemort.
That instant of distraction was enough. Voldemort had no time to react.
The terrifying Erumpent slammed into him, and its massive horn pierced through Voldemort's magic. The Fiendfyre inside it poured directly into Voldemort's body.
Boom.
With a violent explosion, Voldemort's body smashed into the ground once more.
This time, the earth gave way beneath him, and he plunged into a vast hollow below.
Before Voldemort could react, Grindelwald stretched out a hand and froze time again.
The sharp overlap of time and space struck once more, and this time Voldemort was split cleanly in two from the center of his forehead.
"...Ah!"
Only after everything was already over did Voldemort let out his delayed cry of pain.
His injuries began healing again, but this time the healing was noticeably slower.
Something else had claimed his attention.
It felt like a starving man seeing a fresh steak, or a parched man seeing a glass of ice water.
Voldemort's severed body slowly drew itself back together, while the eye on the left and the eye on the right both turned toward the same place.
In the shadows of the cavern, Voldemort saw it.
A throne made entirely of plants.
And seated upon that throne was a figure.
That figure radiated an irresistible attraction, dragging at Voldemort's attention.
What is that thing?
Why can it affect an Eternal Wizard?
One of Voldemort's eyes forced itself toward Grindelwald.
No.
That was not right.
This attraction had not affected his opponent at all. It was acting on him alone.
"Damn you!"
Voldemort let out a strange, furious roar. Ignoring the fact that his body had not yet fully healed, he drew up a massive amount of Death God's magic and formed it into a scythe, then brought it crashing down toward the figure on the throne.
Grindelwald had originally been rushing toward Voldemort to intercept him. But just as he was about to move in, his expression changed, and he retreated at once, pulling himself out of the cavern.
Almost at the same time, a huge mass of vines exploded upward beneath Voldemort's feet. Those vines carried a bizarre, smoky quality, twisted, warped, and impossible to pin down, in a way that was both horrifying and nauseating.
More than a dozen clusters of those warped shadows spread out around Voldemort. Their overlapping distortions expanded outward and forcibly twisted Death God's magic out of shape until it broke apart completely.
"Obscurus!" Grindelwald cried out in shock from midair.
He knew those grotesque, twisted shadows all too well. They were unmistakably Obscurus, destroyers of magic, the natural enemy of nearly all spells.
He had only given Leonard his research materials as a casual test.
He had never imagined Leonard would produce this many Obscurus, let alone use some unknown method to make them affect an Eternal Wizard.
Grindelwald's expression darkened.
If he had not sensed danger a moment earlier, he might well have ended up trapped inside that horrifying encirclement formed by more than a dozen Obscurus.
Still, Obscurus alone was not enough to kill an Eternal Wizard.
Grindelwald gathered his magic again, preparing to land another devastating strike on Voldemort.
But what happened next completely exceeded his understanding.
From beneath the throne in the distance, several masses of vines split away.
One twisted in the air and became the shape of a Basilisk. Its yellow eyes met Voldemort's gaze.
Instant death magic activated.
Already badly wounded, Voldemort took another crushing blow.
Then several more masses of vines transformed into Voldemort himself, except these versions looked much younger, as though they were Voldemort in his youth.
Their faces were filled with unwillingness and helplessness as they drifted toward him.
Voldemort, who had been desperately trying to restore himself, let out a terrified scream.
Even Grindelwald, after fighting him for so many exchanges, had never imagined an Eternal Wizard could make that kind of sound.
What was this?
Grindelwald felt a flicker of unease.
Voldemort accelerated his recovery, forcibly dragging his body back together within the chaotic domain created by the many Obscurus. His body twisted grotesquely as it mended, yet he did not stop for even a moment.
His instincts were screaming that something terrible was about to happen. If he did not restore himself and escape this place immediately, something irreversible would occur.
But it was already too late.
Two soul fragments originating from Voldemort's Horcruxes fused into his body.
Under normal circumstances, that should have been a good thing.
Unfortunately, those two soul fragments were complete.
Something had filled them in with an unknown existence, then shoved those "complete" soul fragments back into Voldemort's body.
Someone had used the fusion of souls to force something alien into him.
"AAAAAAAAAH!"
Voldemort let out a shriek.
In a horribly twisted posture, he fully restored his body. Death God's magic flooded back through him, and his power surged back to fullness.
In his fury, he tore apart the Obscurus around him, then fixed his eyes on Grindelwald in the air and roared, "Come on, then! Continue! This time I'll tear you apart and throw you into the realm of death so you can suffer eternal torment!"
Grindelwald did not respond.
Instead, he quietly withdrew a little farther.
"What? Afraid now?" Voldemort threw back his head and laughed, but instinct was already warning him that something was wrong. "Why are you backing away?"
Expressionless, Grindelwald pointed at him.
"Haven't you noticed?"
"Noticed what?"
"You've sprouted."