Wayne had Ho-Oh land and fed it several precious herbs as a reward before returning it to its case.
Grindelwald currently had his eyes closed, wearing an expression of pure bliss.
As if he'd fallen asleep mid-pleasant dream.
The sensation of replenished vitality was indescribable – the collective euphoria of every withered, decaying cell being satisfied.
The older one was, the closer to death, the more intense the feedback became.
Perhaps their minds had already accepted death as inevitable, even anticipated it, but the body retained only primal instinct and desire.
A full quarter-hour passed before Grindelwald opened his eyes.
Now the old man's formerly clouded gaze had cleared considerably, shining with unusual vitality. His stooped posture straightened, and all traces of decrepitude vanished.
When he looked at Wayne again, Grindelwald's expression had transformed completely, his tone becoming awed.
"No wonder you disdain Horcruxes..."
"Compared to your Phoenix, Albus's Fawkes might as well be a firebird."
"The Phoenix King truly lives up to its name."
"Ahem!" Dumbledore coughed pointedly.
'Must you praise Ho-Oh by disparaging my Fawkes?'
Grindelwald ignored Dumbledore entirely, asking with keen interest: "Lawrence, I can sense your Ho-Oh held back. It possesses even greater hidden power."
"Have you attempted to resurrect anyone?"
"No need." Wayne shook his head. "No one around me has died. No reason to violate the natural cycle of life and death."
"I could procure some test subjects for you," Grindelwald said casually. "Even your Headmaster here, if you wished."
At these words, Dumbledore's heart lurched violently.
Yet ultimately, he regained his composure.
"Gellert, that's enough."
"How tedious." Grindelwald curled his lip, shooting Dumbledore a frustrated glance.
In his eyes, Dumbledore appeared bound by countless chains labelled 'rules' and 'morality', too fearful to cross the line.
Others didn't impose these shackles – no one in this world could compel Dumbledore anymore.
They were restraints he'd placed upon himself.
Ever since Ariana's death, he'd become like this.
Remembering the girl who'd altered both their fates, Grindelwald's mood darkened too.
Abandoning talk of resurrection, he picked up the skull and transfigured a straw into a tube inserted within it.
His mismatched blue and grey eyes gleamed as the skull lit up, emitting swirling mist.
Grindelwald inhaled deeply, drawing all the smoke into himself before exhaling slowly.
The smoke coalesced into a screen, which Wayne examined with fascination.
What would Grindelwald see?
Finally, images appeared on the screen – Tom.
Dumbledore brightened momentarily, but as the scene clarified, his expression grew increasingly peculiar.
Wayne blinked, then burst out laughing.
On the screen, a young and handsome Tom sat in a lecture hall, wearing glasses and intently watching the blackboard as he listened to the teacher's lecture. He occasionally lowered his head to take notes, appearing more diligent than any other student around him.
He looked every bit the handsome, studious young man.
"Is this... a Muggle school?" Dumbledore said uncertainly.
"Correct," Wayne nodded. "It should be a Muggle university, though which one is unclear. This type of lecture hall design is very common."
"Tom actually attended a Muggle university?" Dumbledore turned to Grindelwald, waiting for an explanation.
Has your prophetic ability gone unused for so long that it's turned into daydreams?
How could a half-blood who bitterly resented his heritage possibly attend a Muggle school?
"How should I know?" Grindelwald rolled his eyes and blew out a breath, causing the image to blur.
Grindelwald's face was pale, but he still clutched the skull tightly.
Finally, when figures reappeared clearly on the screen, there were now two people.
One was Tom. The other was a man with no nose and no hair.
"Voldemort..." Dumbledore said gravely.
A flash of green light shot from Tom's wand tip, striking Voldemort squarely.
Bang~!
A puff of smoke exploded and dissipated.
Huff~! Huff~!
Grindelwald gasped for breath, fine beads of sweat forming on his forehead as wrinkles that had faded somewhat reappeared.
It seemed the recent prophecy had taken a considerable toll on him.
"Is making prophecies difficult for you?" Wayne asked curiously.
"The more specific it is to an individual, the greater the unseen cost," Grindelwald panted. "But this time was clearly abnormal. The final vision was incomplete – something was obstructing me."
"Continuing would have killed me."
Wayne nodded, his thoughts unreadable.
Dumbledore was also deep in thought.
From the information just revealed, it seemed a favourable outcome.
Tom and Voldemort had indeed become enemies, and it appeared Tom had succeeded in ambushing him.
However, Grindelwald's prophecies weren't as unalterable as Trelawney's – he could only see the most probable outcomes.
Otherwise, they could never have won back then.
Grindelwald would either have known his inevitable defeat and never started the war, or he would have foreseen everything to claim victory easily.
"Thank you, Gellert," Dumbledore said sincerely.
These two pieces of information would help him greatly – at least he could relax somewhat in the short term.
"Don't mention it. I have conditions," Grindelwald said after drinking some water, his gaze fixed intently on Wayne.
"Perhaps you should rest first," Wayne suggested with concern. "I'll return when you've recovered somewhat. I'd hate to kill you accidentally."
Grindelwald inhaled slowly, feeling insulted.
'Kill me? Do you think you're Albus?'
Since becoming a globally renowned Dark Wizard, no one had dared speak to him like this.
Well... except that fool Aberforth.
But out of respect for Albus, he'd never paid the man much attention.
However...
When Grindelwald met Wayne's genuinely concerned gaze, he realised with eerie certainty that the boy... truly meant what he said.
"Young man..." Grindelwald rose to his feet. "Enough talk. I can't wait for you to kill me now."
"Albus, you're not suggesting we duel here?"
"Follow me," Dumbledore sighed, opening the chamber door.
Fighting here risked triggering the wards – within half an hour, all Europe would descend into chaos.
Thus, Grindelwald – who hadn't left Nurmengard in nearly fifty years and believed he never would again – stepped onto foreign soil once more.
The moment he exited the tower, even he couldn't help but feel disoriented.
When crossing the wards, Grindelwald took the lead with Wayne and Dumbledore following behind.
Along the way, Grindelwald enthusiastically explained, "These wards were actually my own design. Originally, Nurmengard served not only as my headquarters but also where I imprisoned other dissenters."
"I've never been fond of killing, especially fellow wizards. Our numbers are limited – each death diminishes us all."
"For a time, Nurmengard was nearly overcrowded."
"But after Dumbledore forced me into a corner, sabotaged the election, I had no choice but to change tactics – using executions to intimidate opposition."
Wayne listened attentively, without any intention of being swayed.
The greatest difference between the first and second generation wasn't their power, but their temperament.
Someone like Grindelwald, with his unshakable convictions and ability to see through people's hearts, couldn't possibly be influenced by a few casual remarks.
During their journey, Dumbledore occasionally interjected to prevent Wayne from being mentally affected by Grindelwald's rhetoric.
When they emerged outside, Grindelwald surveyed the surroundings and frowned.
"Too much destruction here would cause considerable trouble. Follow me."
With that, he Apparated away, while Wayne and Dumbledore followed using Side-Along Apparition.
...
A hundred miles away lay a beach strewn with reefs and bordered by barren cliffs.
Nurmengard was located in Austria, a completely landlocked country without any coastline.
The trio had now arrived in Italian territory.
Grindelwald's tattered robes fluttered in the sea breeze as he narrowed his eyes, gazing at the endless ocean without immediate action.
"The Italian Ministry of Magic was the first to submit to me... and also the first to rebel when my power began to wane."
"The magical community of this country... utterly incompetent at everything. They surrender to enemies faster than the French. Several of my operations were sabotaged while trying to rescue them."
Wayne: "..."
A single sentence insulting two nations.
Wayne had heard this history from Nicolas Flamel before.
Grindelwald had nearly burned half of Paris to the ground, only to be stopped by Nicolas working in tandem with the Scamander brothers.
This left an indelible mark on Parisians' psyche.
So when he came sweeping back, France capitulated immediately. Grindelwald conquered the continent's largest nation without lifting a finger, his influence swelling overnight.
Countless smaller countries surrendered at the mere rumour of his approach.
It was during this period that Nicolas relocated to Devon in Britain, seeking safety and avoiding trouble.
After reminiscing about his tumultuous rise to power, Grindelwald refocused on the present.
"Since this is a duel, proper etiquette matters."
He ran both hands through his hair, sweeping it back. As he did so, his facial features and clothing began transforming.
Before Wayne's eyes appeared a face of unbridled arrogance, with white hair standing defiantly on end - the very picture of audacity!
Seeing Grindelwald's current appearance, Dumbledore's breathing became uneven...
As if gazing upon the youthful, ambitious Gellert of old.
"Draw your wand, Wayne Lawrence." Grindelwald bent slightly at the waist, executing a perfect duelling bow.
Wayne mirrored the gesture, though upon straightening, he shook his head. "Using wands wouldn't make this a fair contest."
"If Mr Grindelwald fights bare-handed, then so shall I."
"Besides... I do have some modest experience with wandless magic."
[Host: Wayne Lawrence]
Magical Power: SS+ (Current 0.4 Dumbledore Units)
Charms: SS+
Defence Against the Dark Arts (White Magic): SSS
Dark Magic: S+
Transfiguration: SS
Potions: SS-
Alchemy: SS
[Special Talents: Memory Palace, Innate Saint, Wandless Magic, Crowd Pleaser, Magical Creature Affinity, Elemental Affinity, Master's Inspiration, Numerous Rune-Based Talents.]
[Talent Evaluation: One step away from Legendary!]
[Strength Rating: Archmage]
For such a long time, Wayne had refrained from drawing cards, but that didn't mean his strength hadn't progressed.
The Gathering Storm feedback once again elevated his magical power by 0.1 D, bringing his overall strength rating to Archmage.
This placed him on the same tier as Grindelwald, Voldemort, and Dumbledore.
Yet, Wayne couldn't pinpoint exactly what level that represented.
After all, this was a world without clear hierarchical divisions—one overly reliant on subjective perception.
Only by truly crossing wands with such individuals could one gain a clear understanding.
"How utterly arrogant."
Grindelwald cast an appreciative glance at Wayne.
He didn't dislike such a temperament—in fact, he rather admired it.
Of course, this was contingent on the other party having the capital to back it up.
Having witnessed Wayne's duel with Tom, he had already acknowledged the young man's talent.
Bang!
A searing blue flame ignited in Grindelwald's palm. Any knowledgeable Dark Wizard present would have been stunned.
This was Fiendfyre!
Fiendfyre wasn't particularly difficult to learn as far as Dark Magic went, but it was undoubtedly one of the hardest to control.
Most practitioners couldn't even begin to claim mastery over it—once unleashed, the flames would grow wild and unchecked, harming both foe and caster alike.
To toy with it in one's hand, as Grindelwald was doing, was unthinkable.
"Come now. Don't think defeating a sixteen-year-old Tom means Dark Wizards are merely this much."
As he spoke, Grindelwald hurled the Fiendfyre outward, where it landed and formed a ring of fire, trapping him securely within.
The flames surged higher and thicker, obscuring their line of sight, leaving only Grindelwald's eerie voice to carry through.
"Let's warm up first... this sensation... It's been far too long."
"Protego Diabolica!"
Roar!
The blue flames coalesced into enormous firebirds, hurtling toward Wayne with a deafening screech!
Dumbledore watched intently, the Elder Wand already in hand, ready to intervene the moment the situation turned dire.
Though he knew Wayne was powerful... in his heart, the boy still fell far short of Grindelwald's calibre.
This duel would serve as a tempering experience—a chance for Wayne to see the gap between himself and true masters, spurring greater efforts in the future.
The wizarding world was destined for perilous times ahead. The stronger Wayne became, the greater their chances of victory.
Alas, the outcome of this match would leave Dumbledore utterly astonished.
The firebirds' flight was deliberately slow, more a display of intimidation than genuine assault. Wayne raised both hands, and the sea behind him churned violently.
"Choosing this location as our battlefield was rather unfortunate, Mr Grindelwald."
"As a child... playing with water was always my speciality."
Screech!
Over a dozen colossal sea serpents erupted from the ocean's surface, soaring skyward to clamp their jaws around the menacing Fiendfyre!
Blistering heat vaporised vast quantities of water, shrouding the battlefield in mist. Yet more seawater surged forth, replenishing the serpents' forms as they relentlessly eroded the Fiendfyre's energy.
Grindelwald's lips curled into an excited smile. "Truly remarkable. Is your special talent manipulating water currents?"
"In the entire magical world, no more than five individuals can achieve this level."
He finally set aside his playful demeanour, regarding the youth before him seriously. The abilities Wayne had now demonstrated were sufficient to warrant his full attention.
Yet in the very next moment, as he witnessed the spell Wayne unleashed, Grindelwald's expression darkened considerably!