great-warnovel Chapter 420 The One Who Chases the Light
Chapter 420 The One Who Chases the Light
Chapter 420 The One Who Chases the Light
"Actually, at that time, I really wanted to kill you," Grindelwald said casually, making the sensational statement seem unrelated.
"It's not just because you completely blasted open the door, but also because you are Albus's chosen successor." The world is already bad enough. From the Dark Lord's perspective, what does it matter if the world is a little more shattered? It just means we're closer to the future in Fiendfire. Hermione's existence is what he cares about most.
"You're excellent. Even if Viktor worked himself to death, he couldn't catch up with you." He turned around and looked at Hermione with a seemingly dangerous gaze.
But the witch was not afraid. She continued to stroke the cat's head and ponder. If the Dark Lord had really made a decision, he would have done so months ago.
"That forbidden magic could even devour the 'light' of a great wizard. At that moment, I could hardly imagine what you would look like when you grew up. But if you belonged to the witchcraft faction, it would be a completely different story—"
He murmured, his eyes swirling with an unreadable light, as if he were gazing at some uncertain future.
"So I changed my mind and decided to quietly observe how you resolve that crisis."
"Light?" Hermione asked, preferring to learn something from Grindelwald's mental journey a few months ago rather than dwelling on it.
"Haven't you noticed? Albus, Riddle, Malfoy, and even you and me, each of us has a different 'light'." Grindelwald withdrew his gaze and resumed his role as the teacher.
This reminder made Hermione suddenly remember the white light that always surrounded Dumbledore, a power that brought warmth and comfort.
There was Voldemort's eerie, evil green light, full of putridity and blasphemy; Lucius's mottled iridescent light revealing blood, madness, and a sour stench; and Grindelwald's grand black light, emanating pressure and an aura of destruction, as he sat on his throne.
"Does every great wizard have his own light?" A realization dawned on her.
"The light of the great wizard is the outward radiation of his inner will, a symbol of transforming the world with his mind; from his light..."
"You can tell what kind of person he is just by looking at the witch's golden-red feather cloak." The old man looked at the witch's golden-red feather cloak, seemingly lost in memories.
"And what is my light like?" Hermione wondered to herself, though she couldn't possibly appreciate her own light.
However, Grindelwald clearly saw through her thoughts and exclaimed in admiration, "You, your light, is like the pure moon, the shining stars, an incredible miracle—"
While it sounded appealing, Hermione had a different thought: were the Outer Gods among the stars also like this? Perhaps the light they radiated wasn't intentional, but simply their very existence affected all life that perceived it? And what about the splendid stones, those stars said to bring life—could they be the light of some god?
In an instant, many thoughts flashed through her mind: the light of the golden tree, the light of crimson decay, the light of madness, and even the light of supreme will.
While she was lost in thought, Grindelwald sighed, hissed, and then suddenly laughed, saying in a mischievous tone:
Have you noticed that Viktor cares a lot about everything about you?
Hermione was taken aback. Weren't they discussing profound knowledge at the level of great wizards? Why did the topic suddenly change?
However, she was not entirely unaware of Krum's attention.
"He was supposed to be your successor, the next leader of the UMNO party, but now he feels threatened, like a little boy whose beloved toy has been taken away," the witch said nonchalantly.
Dumbledore understood Grindelwald's purpose in inviting her to "stay as a long-term guest," and so did his saints. Krum grew up in Durmstrang, a place that valued competition, receiving the best education and bearing the expectations of many. Even if she didn't realize it herself, someone would quietly tell her, like Karkaroff.
In Hermione's eyes, Krum was like a prince who had been a prince for ten years, and then one day, his father brought back a wonderful girl from outside, saying that she would become the future queen.
For this gifted young man, everything he had fought for had been destroyed, yet he did not gradually become fanatical, turn evil, or rebel.
She is already a model of mental strength and self-awareness.
But Grindelwald shook his head: "While there is indeed some resentment and jealousy, his feelings for you go beyond that."
Hermione tilted her head, staring at the old man with a questioning look.
"He's secretly in love with you!" The Dark Lord poked the girl's head with his finger, giving her a "what a blockhead" look.
Hermione angrily slapped his hand away, looking at him with disbelief, while Crookshanks watched their interaction with a puzzled expression.
"Ever since the first time you chased Mikhail and thrashed him, that kid has had his eye on you. Vida told me that he specifically asked the intelligence department for a lot of information about you and knows all about your deeds by heart!" Seeing that the girl didn't believe him, Grindelwald began to list examples.
He sat back down in his chair with a smug smile: "The second time he went to Hogwarts to deliver the invitation, he volunteered to go with Vader."
"The third time I rushed to Hogwarts' aid, the fourth time I delivered the prophetic ball, and it was all the same, including taking on the task of hosting you in New Paris—."
Such attentiveness, even deliberately trying to make her presence known, would only leave Hermione, a blockhead, completely unmoved.
"Maybe he's working so hard to win the World Cup to get your attention?" the Dark Lord speculated with amusement.
Hermione frowned: "Could it be that one of your men gave him this idea, thinking that if he takes me down, he can take your place?"
She couldn't help but wonder if the black wizards of the Malay Party were truly in love; wasn't everything about them just about power and status?
"Maybe I had that thought before," Grindelwald said dismissively.
"But ever since the Battle of Hogwarts, your image has been etched in his mind, and I'm afraid the emotional factor outweighs the political maneuvering."
It is not surprising that the light of the great wizard, which is the outward manifestation of his soul and the pure golden radiance of the moon, has an unparalleled attraction to energetic young boys.
No girl in Durmstrang can compare to Hermione, and probably no one in the world can either. Krum, who considers himself the best man of the next era, is only worthy of the most talented girl.
Of course, he only dared to think these thoughts in his mind. If he actually said them to Hermione's face, he would probably be turned into a rat and thrown into the sewer.
The conversation was getting increasingly strange, so she decisively cut it off: "Instead of worrying about your idiotic heir, you should be thinking about how to control your insane mind!"
Hermione said viciously, "And don't forget, you still owe me a payment! I want Voldemort dead!"
Grindelwald laughed heartily: "Don't worry, even if you don't solve the Rainforest Fiendfire, I have other ways to control it—"
"As for Tom Riddle, give me a few more days. He's much more stable now, and we'll have results soon."