Austria, Salzburg.

Nurmengard Castle.

The stone-paved path had long been submerged in weeds.

In front of the castle's main entrance remained a huge hole, with rubble and door panels hidden around it.

A few lines of text were engraved at the castle entrance, barely discernible despite the erosion of wind and frost.

"For the greater good?"

Cornelius Fudge squinted his eyes, softly reading the somewhat blurred words, emitting an ambiguous snort.

"These dark wizards are very skilled at stirring up people's hearts. In my many years of experience, the more insidious and calculating dark wizards are, the more they will use such words to flaunt and embellish themselves. Come to think of it, when he said those words, perhaps he was destined to become a dark wizard."

"Ahem, Cornelius, we are not here to interrogate Grindelwald today—"

Dumbledore coughed softly, reminding him with a gentle smile.

Behind them, senior officials from magic governments around the world were curiously examining their surroundings.

Since Grindelwald imprisoned himself in Nurmengard, almost no one had ever reached this place. This castle, with its legendary and terrifying reputation in the modern magical world, was practically one of the childhood stories of most European wizards, like Merlin's treasure trove.

However, with Dumbledore, as the Secret Keeper, revealing the address, they finally had the opportunity to arrive here.

"Unbelievable, that dark lord actually lived here for decades..."

"Look at these traces... the battle back then..."

"Yes... Do you think these might be—"

The high-ranking officials of various magic governments looked around and spoke in low voices.

As they passed through the huge hole, they seemed to have traveled back to the magical battlefield of decades ago.

Apart from the large hole at the entrance, terrible traces remained everywhere in the castle. Thick dust covered every corner of the castle. Going up the stairs on the right side of the main hall, you could faintly see some footprints—Dumbledore had told them that the International Confederation of Wizards had arranged for a deaf-mute old Muggle to be responsible for Grindelwald's three meals a day, but after the old man left, house-elves were temporarily in charge.

"Grindelwald... um... does he never leave the tower?"

The French Minister of Magic, Caster, looked around, frowned, and added, "I mean, I don't seem to see any measures around here to prevent Grindelwald from escaping?"

"Oh, usually, that's the case—Grindelwald doesn't leave the tower."

Dumbledore walked up the winding stairs, glancing meaningfully at the Austrian Minister of Magic at the very end.

"However, if one day Grindelwald wants to leave here, believe me... at least from my knowledge, I don't think there are any measures that can stop a wizard of his level. In this world, the only one who can imprison Gellert Grindelwald is himself..."

"Not even you, Mr. Dumbledore?" The Turkish Minister of Magic couldn't help but ask.

"I can defeat him, yes, I think that's what you mean... but you see, I have quite a few things to do as well."

Dumbledore shrugged his shoulders, answering with a gentle smile, "And similarly, those who can watch over Grindelwald mostly have more important things they want to do. Besides, sometimes we have to worry about the 'jailer' becoming an accomplice, don't we?"

"I don't understand, Dumbledore... Professor. Since Grindelwald is so dangerous, why didn't you—"

Cornelius Fudge lowered his voice, gently making a gesture with his right hand.

After cramming for some time, Cornelius Fudge had learned a lot about Gellert Grindelwald, those evil deeds of Grindelwald causing mass murders in Europe, creating divisions, and inciting wars... He had to admit that compared to Grindelwald, Voldemort's reign of terror in Britain, although more frightening, was completely on a different level in terms of harming social order.

"Obviously, Dumbledore thinks that a dead me seems to be more terrifying than a living me—"

Before Dumbledore could answer, a hoarse voice suddenly floated down from the top of the tower.

"You wouldn't think... that I alone could launch a wizarding war that lasted for decades, would you? Moreover, how many people do you think have the ability, and the courage, to kill a disarmed Gellert Grindelwald? Perhaps you can try it today?"

"... Uh."

Cornelius Fudge was like a rooster with its neck pinched, suddenly losing his voice.

The crowd exchanged glances and quickly took a few steps forward. After turning the corner, a chilling coldness suddenly came from ahead.

Unlike the locked attic that everyone had imagined, the end of the winding stairs was a room without a door. A hole, only slightly smaller than the hole below, was opened on the right side of the room. The biting cold wind howled through the hole, rampaging and wandering in the small room.

The ceiling of this room was very high, with a window opened there, and a beam of dim sunlight projected onto the floor.

And after that dim column of light, a hunched, thin, but spirited old man sat there quietly.

"Tsk, quite a lot of guests today, Dumbledore? Is there any special holiday?"

Grindelwald grinned, looking at the old wizard standing at the door.

"If I remember correctly," Dumbledore said, "I should have sent you an owl this morning to notify you, right?"

"Oh? Is that so—I thought it was an extra meal for me—"

Grindelwald was sitting too far back, his face shrouded in shadow, making it hard to see clearly.

Just as the two were talking, Cornelius Fudge felt like he had stepped on something.

He subconsciously lowered his eyes and looked down.

"Oh—good heavens—wh-what is this—"

Cornelius Fudge's exclamation interrupted the conversation between the two in front.

Everyone looked in the direction of the sound and saw Cornelius Fudge retreating several steps in a panic, like a frightened rabbit.

In the spot where he had been standing, a large pile of messy, brownish-gray, bloodstained feathers were scattered, and among those feathers, one could clearly see the licked-clean small skeletons and avian bones, with a dark red bloodstain spreading from there towards Grindelwald's direction.

"I told you, extra meal—dear sir. Don't worry, I'm not a savage who drinks blood..."

Grindelwald chuckled softly, like a Harpy emitting a strange cry, waving his hand casually as he spoke.

The next moment, flames surged out of the pile of feathers and bones.

Almost instantly, it turned into a small bonfire.

"Oh. This is much brighter and warmer. The temperature here in Nurmengard is a bit uncomfortable—"

The flickering orange flames dispelled the layer of shadow covering Grindelwald's face. People could now clearly see the appearance of the dark lord who had once dominated the European magical world—he looked extraordinarily old, with wrinkles covering his smooth forehead, but his eyes were exceptionally bright.

Near his bedside, there seemed to be a pile of tree trunks and branches scattered in a mess, but Cornelius Fudge and the others quickly realized what they were.

Wands, a dozen wands were casually thrown there, just like a small pile of firewood.

"So, let me think..."

Grindelwald casually picked up a wand and tossed it in his hand, turning his head to look at Fudge, revealing a creepy smile.

"You just said, you wanted to try to kill me? I can give you this opportunity, a one-on-one, absolutely fair duel opportunity... This may help other gentlemen answer questions—for example, is Gellert Grindelwald too old to cast spells, and unable to deal with some mediocre young upstarts. In that case, perhaps our subsequent conversations can be easier and more efficient? So, come on—"

As Grindelwald picked up his wand, an invisible force gradually began to surround and spread around him.

Cornelius Fudge stared nervously at the old wizard, not daring to move.

For some reason, he seemed to have turned into a frightened groundhog, and in front of him was a snake king that was gradually rising up, getting taller and taller. Although there were no threatening actions, every nerve in his body seemed to be shouting at the top of its lungs:

Don't reach for your wand! Don't reach for your wand! Otherwise, you will definitely die! You will die!

"Grindelwald, no one wants to duel with you here—"

Just as Cornelius Fudge's nerves were about to snap, a tall figure stood in front of him, gently dispersing the suffocating feeling.

"You should have seen the proposals from the International Confederation of Wizards and the magic governments of various countries. As the person who knows the most about dark magic and how to kill a wizard, do you have a way to solve 'Voldemort' and the Horcruxes? This question shouldn't be too difficult, right?"

"Of course, 'Horcruxes', I studied that thing decades ago—crazy, not worth it."

Grindelwald chuckled lightly, casually throwing the wand aside, and said with a smile.

"As for how powerful 'Voldemort' is, you have to fight to know."

"However, if according to your previous description, he doesn't have many mature skills in dueling, only relying on powerful magic and dark magic... then it will be much easier. If you weren't lying, I can help you solve that so-called... um..."

Grindelwald slightly raised his hands, gesturing quickly and comically, "... the most terrifying dark lord in history?"

"But—"

Grindelwald paused, leaning back against the wall again.

"I have the strength, I have the solution—but why should I help you?"

"Eileen, Eileen Kaslana, or rather..."

Dumbledore's smile surfaced, glancing at the thoughtful magic government officials behind him, speaking softly, word by word.

"Eileen Grindelwald, the last blood descendant of the Dark Lord Grindelwald family in the magical world—"

———

———

Yay!