Blake returned once again to the mountaintop base. He needed to prepare before the others arrived. You couldn't welcome people to a place wi
Blake returned once again to the mountaintop base.
He needed to prepare before the others arrived.
You couldn't welcome people to a place without proper shelter. What was the point of high salaries if recruits had to sleep in the open?
Agatha and Old Lepp looked puzzled to see him back so soon.
"Did you forget something?" Old Lepp asked.
"No. We need to prepare. A lot of people will be joining us soon."
He pointed toward the open space behind the base. "We need to build staff dormitories there immediately."
Blake had already brought up the idea with Agatha. He'd expected her to object, given her sentimental ties to the place—after all, it was her family's former home.
But to his surprise, Agatha had readily agreed, even enthusiastically. She was lively, straightforward, and happy to have more experts around to share ideas with.
"We need to build dorms for hundreds—within a week," Blake said.
Old Lepp raised an eyebrow. "Is it really that urgent?"
Their original plan was to recruit gradually, considering how rare it was to find someone with Agatha's level of combat experience.
Blake scratched his head. "It's urgent now."
Lepp narrowed his eyes. "You've already recruited people?"
"Yeah. I have."
"How many?"
"One hundred and fifteen."
"What?!"
Old Lepp jumped to his feet in disbelief. Just this morning, they'd agreed it would be hard to find recruits. Now Blake had over a hundred?
Given Blake's recruitment standards, these couldn't be ordinary wizards. They had to be werewolves like Agatha—veterans with real combat grit.
Blake sighed. He had only asked Grindelwald for help recruiting, never expecting such an overwhelming response. At best, he thought maybe seventeen or eighteen might be willing to come.
These were ex-members of the Wiccan Party—werewolves who had once fought for a cause. If benefits alone could win them over, they wouldn't be living in poverty now. The Ministry of Magic had tried to buy them off before without success.
So how had Blake's modest benefits package succeeded?
It all started when Grindelwald heard his request. Without much ceremony, he rang a bell to summon everyone and then left Blake alone with tea. Grindelwald himself went to the stadium, stepped onto the stage, and gave a speech.
Blake had no idea what he said—only that it was probably not something Dumbledore would've approved of.
Whatever it was, it worked.
The crowd surged with fervor. Blake could see the fire in their eyes. Grindelwald must've painted Blake's ambition in glowing colors. And in fairness, Blake didn't deny it—ambition was necessary to lead.
In the end, Blake recruited over a hundred ex-Wiccan werewolves—battle-tested, loyal, and eager. Their passion was so intense he didn't even need to brainwash them.
The system's interface began lighting up like mad, each name entered into the system's directory and party.
Only those truly committed to following Blake would receive the system's binding prompt. And now, all 115 had been added, becoming fully loyal to him. Former Wiccans, no more.
Grindelwald, of course, had no idea that once added, these recruits became permanently tied to Blake. But even if he knew, he likely wouldn't care.
Caught off-guard by the sheer number of new recruits, Blake had hastily agreed to meet them all in Nurmengard in a week—time needed to get the mountaintop base ready.
Despite being unprepared, Blake couldn't help smiling. He'd used the Eye of Truth to vet every single applicant. All of them glowed golden with potential.
Even the weakest among them matched Agatha's strength. The strongest neared Grindelwald's level. After all, magical power often deepened with age, and these were seasoned warriors.
Agatha had talent too—she simply lacked their decades of experience.
Agatha and Old Lepp, stunned by the afternoon's development, each donated two golden treasure chests in support.
Then, work began in earnest.
Blake, wasting no time or money, told Lepp to hire professionals—the Wizarding World's best construction team.
They'd just earned hundreds of thousands of galleons from their last commission, so Blake was generous.
"The buildings must be tall! The rooms, spacious!"
By the next morning, magical architects arrived with detailed blueprints. Soon after, the construction crew appeared at the base via Portkey.
Agatha loaded supplies into a suitcase enhanced with an Undetectable Extension Charm and sent them through a Vanishing Cabinet.
With ample resources and expert design, construction proceeded at lightning pace.
Three days later, three dormitory buildings stood tall on the mountaintop.
Granted, they looked… a bit magical in design. Slightly crooked, oddly shaped—clearly not built by Muggles.
But they were solid, well-decorated, and ready for move-in. What more could Blake ask for?
Meanwhile, Grindelwald wasn't idle.
He cornered an elderly ex-Wiccan and whispered, "Let me take your place. I'll pretend to be you."
Vita, watching nearby, looked mortified. "Is this really necessary?"
Grindelwald's shamelessness knew no bounds.
Had Blake not bound the recruits to the system, Grindelwald might've gotten away with it.
But the system's loyalty mark made impersonation difficult.
Still, Grindelwald persisted. Eventually, the old wizard, not wanting to offend him, reluctantly agreed.
As soon as the man left, Grindelwald cast a Human Transfiguration spell, transforming into his likeness. He adjusted his levitation cloak, now matching the old wizard's appearance perfectly.
"Look at me!" he beamed at Vita. "Do you think Blake will notice?"
He even mimicked the old man's voice flawlessly.
Vita, exasperated, sighed. "Probably not..."
Grindelwald's skill was impressive. Unlike Crouch Jr., he didn't need Polyjuice Potion.
But what he didn't know was that the original wizard had already written to Blake.
Who would expect a man loyal to Grindelwald for decades to suddenly switch allegiance?
Yet the system made it so.
When Blake received the letter, he asked the man to stay at Nurmengard for now. No need to expose Grindelwald's scheme. After all, this wasn't Dumbledore—Blake didn't have to pretend.
Better to play along. Grindelwald would tire of the charade soon enough and send the real wizard back quietly.
Two days later, Rikiri finished preparations.
Blake opened a Dimensional Gate linking the base to Nurmengard and stepped through with Agatha.
They arrived in the stadium where all 115 recruits had gathered—former Wiccans, now loyal soldiers of the Fifth Natural Disaster.
Grindelwald stood before them, eyes narrowed, smiling as Blake arrived.
Vita stood just behind him, silent as always.
Grindelwald was clearly pretending nothing was amiss, waiting for the right moment to switch places with his decoy.
Blake spotted the real wizard at the back—downcast, frustrated he couldn't yet serve his new boss.
"||Welcome! Blake!" Grindelwald opened his arms and hugged him.
Blake stood stiffly. "…"
"I'm so glad! You've visited Nurmengard more this month than the past year!"
Blake winced. "I'd never been to Nurmengard before this month..."
Grindelwald didn't miss a beat. "Exactly! All Dumbledore's fault!"
Blake couldn't argue with that.
After venting about Dumbledore's tyranny, Grindelwald gestured to the wizards.
"Take care of them. I owe them," he murmured.
Blake nodded. "You have my word. They won't live like that again."
Grindelwald smiled. "They're not saints, but they're ours. We all have double standards, don't we?"
"I'll make sure they're treated well."
"I believe you. After all, you're my creation!" Grindelwald beamed.
Blake blinked. "Dumbledore wanted me to be named after him, you know."
"Tsk. That man... Anyway!" Grindelwald's tone shifted again. "You still attract girls like crazy. So your eldest son must carry the Grindelwald name!"
"Professor Grindelwald, I'm thirteen..."
"So what? When I was thirteen—"
"Wait, what happened when you were thirteen?" Blake asked, curious.
Grindelwald coughed. "Children shouldn't ask."
"You're calling me a child now?"
"You should be more respectful… Also, don't call me 'Professor Grindelwald'. Call me 'father!'"
"Okay, Professor Grindelwald..."
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