Helbo was like a drowning man finally grabbing a dry piece of driftwood, his voice suddenly rising, tinged with a morbid excitement.
"Those Fire Dragons...I ordered some people to capture Fire Dragons around the world, then used a Secret Technique to tame those creatures, trying to form an army of sufficient size, so I could use this method to lure that War God and have him attract the fire head-on..."
The endless and detailed monologue came to an abrupt halt here.
Helbo's exposed golden pupil suddenly contracted to the size of a needle's point, his throat felt like it was being gripped by an invisible hand. He quickly lifted his head, his protruding Adam's apple moving up and down for a moment due to his extremely thin body. Then he looked at William with some trepidation.
William's face, which had been as calm and unfathomable as a mask, finally showed a tiny change - his eyebrows lifted almost imperceptibly, and the corners of his mouth curled into a faint smile that instantly made Helbo feel as if he had fallen into an ice cellar.
"Oh?"
William let out this syllable lightly, almost through his nose.
Yet this syllable was like a massive hammer, slamming into Helbo's already fragile soul, causing certain neglected, or long painful and blurred memory fragments to become sharply clear at this moment!
He remembered—
It seemed that not long ago, his largest and most deeply hidden Fire Dragon poaching and taming base, which he had painstakingly built for nearly a year, was utterly uprooted with a thunderous strike—
All the maturely tamed Fire Dragons were swept away, not even a single nail was left, and almost all the guards in the base were killed on the spot, with only a few not accounted for...
He remembered that he was furious at the time, thinking it was some even more mysterious international Magical Creatures protection organization (another animal protection group?), or that some hidden force had discovered his secret and took action... He even planned a revenge for this...
At this moment, looking at the expression on William's face—
Everything made sense—like using oil of resin to unblock a clogged drain, everything suddenly became clear.
The enormous sense of despair engulfed Helbo like a tsunami.
He felt like a clown bragging about his two ounces of muscle in front of a legendary gladiator, all the conspiracies, all the scheming became a complete joke in the absolute power and all-seeing eyes of the opponent—
However, Helbo did not know that the origin of this matter was actually a "normal" adventure of an old man, who was nearly a hundred years old, running all over the place.
"It seems we are quite destined, Mr. Divine Envoy."
William finally spoke, his calm tone sounding terrifying to Helbo, "If you hadn't mentioned it, I almost forgot that there was such a 'big figure' like you backing those poachers who wreak havoc worldwide, targeting rare Magical Creatures..."
The psychological defense line of the man, already on the verge of collapse, was utterly shattered into powder by this blow.
"Yes! It's me!"
Helbo almost shouted out crying, his voice hoarse and broken, signaling complete surrender—
"I remember... it was more than seventeen hundred years ago, about... about two hundred and seventy years! In the South African desert, I encountered those people, a group... a group of indigenous Wizards who had acquired a certain ancient witchcraft heritage, their Magic was... primitive, crude, but very interesting...
"At that time... I had just discovered the method of creating Soul Artifacts, and needed massive resources to continue perfecting it, as well as some reliable hands to conduct operations I couldn't personally appear for. I also needed a stable, wealth channel hidden away from the public and Wizarding World's eyes..."
He breathed heavily, his chest heaving like a broken bellows. "Immortality — just being alive doesn't count as being eternal, I hid in the deepest shadows, becoming the unseen 'oracle' of those people, systematically organizing and refining their crude witchcraft, especially the parts about tracking, hunting, and... human Transfiguration...
"In return, they would offer me the most precious spoils — not only materials and living bodies of Magical Creatures but also artifacts, Magical notes, even some rare minerals and Herbs looted from other civilizations and Wizards, along with money."
He glanced at William and quickly lowered his head again, continuing,
"For several centuries... we collaborated for several centuries, the organization constantly expanded, absorbing desperados, Black Wizards, or power and money-hungry speculators from all over the world. The organization spread like a spider web across the globe..."
"He seems to be doing a bit better than you."
William turned his head to look at Grindelwald, who was inexplicably deep in thought behind him. The old man, upon hearing William speak, rolled his eyes, "I pursued a grand reform, not hiding in a corner like sewer rats."
"Then what are you thinking about?"
"...just regretting a bit, that I didn't notice this kind of force existing in the world back then, if I could have collaborated."
Grindelwald squinted his eyes slightly, but his tone showed no sign of remorse, "I might have succeeded at that time?"
"Your thoughts are dangerous—"
"Just thinking, time can't go backward."
Then the stone chamber fell into a brief silence, with only Helbo's heavy and uneasy breathing still audible, as if awaiting judgment—
"So, regarding the current state of this poacher organization."
William took a step forward, the slight sound of his shoes rubbing against the cold ground seemed to step on Helbo's heart, "What is the current core structure? Who is on the top decision-making body? Where are the main bases distributed? Also, what are those 'ancient witchcraft heritages' exactly?"
A string of questions hit down like hail, but Helbo's face showed a trace of joy because he clearly understood that this was an "oath of allegiance," and was key to truly escaping that hell. For this, he dared not hesitate at all—
"The structure... the structure is very loose, but the hierarchy is relatively strict."
He answered urgently, his mind racing under the drive of fear—
"The high-level... is a roundtable meeting composed of thirteen 'hunters,' responsible for regions other than Europe. They were all... from families I selected several centuries ago, but most of those old guys have died; naturally, the younger ones... each have ulterior motives. As for, in Europe... it was originally directly remotely controlled by me, but in recent decades, I have shown up less often and have been infiltrated a lot by a small group calling themselves 'Ashwinder,' I haven't had time to..."
"Ashwinder?"
Suddenly, William laughed, as if hearing the name of an "old friend" he hadn't seen for a long time from someone else's mouth.