Facing the lifeless silver figure before him, Fatier staggered a few steps, his vision blurring.
Blood rushed to his head, rendering him deaf and blind. He stared at Grindelwald in disbelief.
Then, under Grindelwald's cruel gaze, Fatier pulled out a dagger without hesitation and aimed it at his own heart.
The sharp, curved blade pierced his chest, but not a single drop of blood emerged.
He withdrew the blade and stabbed himself three more times, each strike as heavy as the last. Yet every time the blade left his body, the wounds healed instantly.
Grindelwald's slender fingers rested lightly on Fatier's back. He smiled warmly and said,
"A Permanent Binding Curse—you won't age, nor can anyone kill you. It's my final gift to you. Do you like it?"
Clang!
The metallic dagger clattered to the ground.
Fatier's expression was one of sheer horror. He shoved Grindelwald away and stumbled backward, his movements chaotic and unsteady.
"Devil…"
Fatier pointed a trembling finger at Grindelwald. As he spoke, he tripped over his own feet and fell heavily to the ground.
He tried to crawl, to flee toward the door, but after just a few steps, he crashed into a massive ceramic vase. The vase shattered, and he fell once more. This time, he could no longer muster the strength to rise.
Lying there, he stared at Grindelwald, muttering under his breath:
"Devil…"
"Devil…"
"Devil…"
He repeated the word over and over, his voice growing softer each time. Until finally, his eyes dimmed, and he collapsed, motionless.
Grindelwald didn't spare him another glance. Instead, he stretched his neck and looked toward the sky. Like an athlete preparing for a match, he twisted his neck and joints, bouncing lightly in place to warm up.
And then—
Boom!
With a deafening crash, the castle's dome was shattered by a magnificent, four-winged bird. Shards of glass sparkled in the air alongside countless fragments of stone and wood. The bird tumbled to the ground, transforming into human form.
At this moment, Hoffa, in his Thunderbird guise, had finally arrived at Grindelwald's location.
He saw the small silver-haired body lying motionless before him and the despairing, hollow-eyed Fatier.
A jarring sense of unreality struck Hoffa like a thunderbolt. It was as if he'd plunged into an abyss of absolute zero, shivering uncontrollably.
At the same time, an all-consuming rage ignited within him—a nuclear explosion of fury that obliterated all coherent thought in an instant.
His vision blurred, fluctuating between clarity and distortion. All sound faded away. His entire body, every sensory nerve, failed him in this moment.
The last remnants of reason told him that everything he was witnessing was real. But the storm of emotions raging within him refused to accept it.
Shaking, Hoffa turned his gaze to Grindelwald. "You…"
Grindelwald smiled calmly, casually tying his white hair into a short braid behind his head. "Now it's just you and me. Come on."
"You!!!"
Hoffa roared, a deafening sound that shattered countless panes of glass. The withered roses outside the castle disintegrated into dust in an instant. The immense psychic force lifted every fragment of debris into the air.
For a moment, it was as if the entire world had fallen silent. Hoffa's body swelled rapidly, his muscles bulging and rippling. Scales and feathers sprouted from his skin. In the blink of an eye, he transformed into an unrecognizable beast and leaped forward.
Faced with such a terrifying onslaught, Grindelwald merely raised his wand with calm precision.
"Shattering Grip."
Boom!
Massive stones erupted from the ground, pinning Hoffa in place. The stone hands quickly turned to steel and an unknown alloy, twisting and intertwining in varying sizes and shapes.
They pressed Hoffa heavily against the ground.
"Roar!!"
With a furious bellow, Hoffa's body continued to expand. In his massive dragon-like form, he clawed his way up from the ground, breaking free of the metal restraints again and again, only to be slammed back down by even larger metal arms.
Finally, just meters away from Grindelwald, the earth split open. Thousands of spiderweb-like metal arms reached out, forcibly restraining him until he could no longer move.
Enraged, Hoffa shouted, "I'll kill you! I swear, as long as I live, I'll see you dead!"
Grindelwald smirked. "Now that's something to look forward to."
He then lowered his wand, his expression impassive. With a single gesture, he clenched his hand. The countless spiderweb-like metallic limbs reversed their grip, twisting the massive dragon form of Hoffa into a grotesque spiral.
The physical agony didn't make Hoffa retreat.
He opened his mouth, his body blazing with magma-like flames.
Relentless streams of dragon fire shot toward Grindelwald like cannonballs.
The flames reflected in Grindelwald's eyes as he raised one arm and intoned, "Talico Scita."
A massive shield materialized before him, blocking the inferno entirely.
Amid the fiery bombardment, Grindelwald raised one finger with his left hand, while his right hand, wielding the Elder Wand, drew an arc. Black, unknown flames engulfed his arm.
He bent slightly and made a grasping motion toward Hoffa.
A pull. A drag.
The black flames acted like a black hole, forcibly ripping the dragon's power from Hoffa's body.
Bound by the web-like metal arms, Hoffa's form began to tear apart. His body melted like molten cheese, boiling like bubbling wax.
The dragon fire and immense physical power, like air escaping a balloon, surged into Grindelwald's palm as if trapped inside Pandora's Box.
In less than half a minute, Hoffa's massive dragon form and endless dragon breath were completely drained away. The dragon's power was stripped from his body and transferred to Grindelwald, turning into a tiny, struggling dragon barely the size of an arm.
Hoffa could no longer maintain his dragon form and reverted to his human shape.
Grindelwald rubbed his hands together, and the struggling dragon creature in his grasp was consumed by black flames, reduced to ash.
Standing before Hoffa, Grindelwald spoke calmly, "I can give you power, but I can also take it away. From the beginning to the end, you were nothing."
"Why are you doing this? What did she do wrong?"
Pinned to the ground by the metallic arms, Hoffa howled.
"Who is wrong? No one is wrong."
Grindelwald placed his hand on Hoffa's head, stroking it gently, and with a look of sympathy, he continued:
"The world is nothingness. In this empty world, the only true existence is choice. There are no lies, no facades. Fifty against fifty. I gave her a chance."
"You're a bastard. Go to hell."
Before he could finish his sentence, Hoffa vanished from his spot.
Countless metal arms reached out to where Hoffa had been.
The next second, Hoffa appeared using his ghostly walk, landing a heavy punch in Grindelwald's abdomen, the blow piercing through his stomach and dragging his intestines out.
Grindelwald bent slightly, but his expression never wavered.
He grabbed Hoffa by the hair with one hand and, with the other enveloped in intense, unknown blue flames, delivered a powerful punch to Hoffa's chest.
This punch sent Hoffa's soul flying out of his body.
His colorful soul floated in the void as the blue flames seared his essence.
Then, Grindelwald's body deflated, and a dark, monstrous soul emerged from him, rapidly expanding. It grabbed Hoffa's vibrant soul and sneered, "You are too weak. You don't understand the meaning of death, you don't understand the mysteries of the soul. How can you stand before me?"
"Shut up!!"
Hoffa's soul screamed with fury.
A flash of lightning struck outside the window. Hoffa harnessed the lightning, delivering a devastating blow.
However, the searing electricity was effortlessly dispersed by Grindelwald's strike.
Grindelwald, with his devilish tail, dragged Hoffa's colorful soul into his mental world.
The world spun violently, like black ink dispersing in clear water, forming countless scenes.
In an old wooden house, a woman screamed as she severed the umbilical cord. With a look of utter revulsion, she abandoned her newborn, discarding it like trash in the snowstorm.
A passing female dog picked up the baby and nursed it to life.
The scene shifted to a dark and desolate junkyard.
Three boys fought over a piece of bread on the ground. They battled savagely for it, until finally, a skinny blond boy emerged victorious. He used a steel rod to kill the other two, yet he shared the bread with a stray cat that passed by.
The images flickered, displaying Grindelwald's life as though it were a book being flipped through.
Beaten by the wind, soaked by the rain, sun-scorched, battered by hail in a narrow pass, robbed by refugees, chased by wild dogs, pelted with stones by children. He fought for survival by day and hid alone in dark city corners by night.
Then, Hoffa found himself in a deep, ancient castle, watching a boy grow up amidst the scorn and oppression of many.
He saw a young boy tortured by bullying, raped, abandoned, and raised in solitude, learning and fighting alone.
The scenes flowed relentlessly, each more harrowing than the last, each revealing the madness and corruption buried deep within human nature.
In the span of half a century, this man tasted abandonment by teachers, organizations, countries, societies, and friends.
He witnessed the deaths of his loved ones—his partner, children, and companions.
Like a lone wolf, he endured endless disappointment, despair, depression, pain, loneliness, and collapse. Yet, again and again, he rose. With grand ambitions to change the world, he eventually stood at the pinnacle of this magical world.
Boom!Uncertain how much time had passed.
The soul returned to the body.
Hoffa collapsed onto his knees.
The overwhelming flood of information nearly paralyzed his mind, and an overwhelming sense of helplessness rose from the depths of his heart.
He had been utterly defeated.
In every aspect—experience, magical power, knowledge, and even his soul—he was pale and insignificant in comparison to Grindelwald. The pain and suffering Grindelwald had endured was a hundred, a thousand times greater than his own.
He lifted his head, and the intense hatred and pain formed into a few weak words. He could barely whisper, "I will... kill you."
Grindelwald's soul returned to his body, and the wound in his abdomen healed rapidly. He stood before the kneeling Hoffa and smiled.
"If you want to kill me, you must become me."
"Never." Hoffa mumbled.
"Don't be foolish. I am your reality."
Thud!
Before Hoffa could react, Grindelwald kicked him square in the face.
The impact sent him crashing to the ground, his face smashing into the earth.
Hoffa couldn't make a sound, unable to move.
Grindelwald nonchalantly shrugged, untied his hair, crouched down, and whispered gently in Hoffa's ear, "Become like me, and then come back to kill me, okay?"
Blood pooled around Hoffa, and he tasted his own blood. But he could no longer respond. His face had been shattered beyond recognition.
Grindelwald let his hair fall and stood up. He spat on the fallen Hoffa.
"Class Dismissed."
(End of Chapter)
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