https://novelcool.info/chapter/Chapter-426-Gellert-Grindelwald-Stay-Close-to-Me/13685440/
https://novelcool.info/chapter/Chapter-428-Waiting-for-You-to-Become-a-Companion/13685442/
Chapter 427: Wade: Walking on Fire
When everyone recoiled in fear, Gellert Grindelwald stepped forward past the crowd, and Wade—always at his side—followed without hesitation.
The sight within made even him, who had prepared himself mentally, flinch. His heart clenched, and his horns throbbed violently.
Wade tried to take a deep breath to steady himself, but a wave of nausea surged through him. He doubled over, pressing his hands to his mouth and nose, only then managing to slow his increasingly frantic breathing.
Blue flames surged in waves across the chamber, nearly clearing the field of view of every base personnel in sight.
Yet Gellert Grindelwald’s fire burned only those who opposed him. The other cloaked wizards, and the strange, indistinct forms lurking behind the walls—beings whose very nature defied the term “human”—remained untouched.
This made the scene all the more visible, all the more horrifying.
Dozens—perhaps even hundreds—of “Experiment Subjects” were imprisoned like livestock in transparent cages stained with blood. Their bodies twisted in grotesque transformations, skin rotting, feathers and scales sprouting from their flesh. They let out weak, broken cries.
Some appeared already dead. Even as the flames roared toward them, they made no attempt to flee.
Wade had assumed the base’s work was limited to the transformation of werewolves and vampires. But this was far worse.
The exterior of the subjects revealed a far more desperate, monstrous ambition: experiments not just with werewolves and vampires, but with giants, goblins, banshees, merpeople, centaurs—any and every magical creature whose bloodline could be grafted onto humans.
Werewolves and vampires were born of humanity—though their transformation carried a high death toll, with proper safeguards, it remained, at least in theory, controllable.
But these creatures were entirely alien. Attempting to merge them with human DNA was not science—it was slaughter.
The base was tossing countless lives into a bottomless lottery, gambling on the impossible chance of drawing an SSR. The involvement of advanced science and genetic engineering had made no difference. The process was still cruel, reckless, and utterly inhumane.
Gellert Grindelwald narrowed his eyes. A cold fury flickered across his face. He raised a hand, and several wizards carrying Mother Mirrors hurried in, capturing the scene with meticulous precision.
Gellert Grindelwald advanced deeper into the chamber.
He watched as some of the “subjects” actively threw themselves into the flames, begging to be burned to death.
He watched others scream in agony, tearing at their own flesh until blood streamed down their arms.
Then he turned, his gaze sweeping over the wizards who had followed him—now utterly silent.
His eyes pierced through the magical mist veiling their cloaks, seeing beyond the fabric, into the young, wide eyes beneath the hoods.
Not long ago, those eyes had held doubt, defiance, weakness, hatred, blind loyalty, even foolish arrogance.
But now, they had changed—transformed into something far more satisfying.
Gellert Grindelwald looked at them all.
His white hair whipped wildly in the heat of the wind, his eyes sharp as blades—burning with a fire that seemed to consume him, yet ignite others.
“Before we depart,” he asked, his voice echoing like thunder in their minds, “do you have your answer now?”
“Why am I still here?”
“Why does the world still need the Wizard Purity Party?”
“—This is your answer.”
The aged voice thundered through the chamber. Even Dreian felt his soul tremble. He opened his mouth, but no words came. He could only bow deeply.
Wade took two steps back, quickly creating distance from Gellert Grindelwald.
Then he saw it—the black-robed wizards, like sunflowers chasing the sun, bowing before Gellert Grindelwald in absolute reverence, their devotion unspoken but palpable.
Gellert Grindelwald raised his wand high.
A crimson firework exploded overhead, its glow mingling with the blue flames below, painting the surroundings in a hellish glow.
“Go,” he said. “Kill everyone inside who stands in your way. Bring me their leader!”
The wizards surged forward in unison, scattering in every direction.
Voices rose—chanting “Avada Kedavra,” “Disintegration Spell,” “Soul Extraction,” “Cruciatus Curse.”
To a wizard, Muggles were terrifying.
But in this battle, facing wizards armed with powerful spells, ordinary soldiers had no chance.
The wizards carrying Streaming Mirrors worked tirelessly, recording the suffering of the “subjects.” Then, as another lab was discovered, they hurried off, still filming.
Crack!
A few feet from Wade, a transparent cage exploded with motion. Inside, a monstrous figure—covered in black hair, its head five or six times larger than normal—pounded the bulletproof glass with terrifying force.
Wade turned.
Two blood-red eyes stared at him, filled with desperate pleading.
The creature opened its mouth, each word dragged out with agonizing effort:
“Kill… me… please… kill… me…”
Wade froze. His breath vanished. His wand trembled in his grip.
An endless wave of rage and sorrow surged through him, his heart aching as if torn apart.
A black-robed wizard approached Gellert Grindelwald, glancing curiously at the hooded Wade nearby, then whispered:
“Sir, should we…?”
He gestured, miming a killing motion toward the subjects.
“No,” Gellert Grindelwald said, smiling faintly. “Leave them. The Ministry of Magic will have more than enough trouble dealing with them.”
The wizard bowed. “Yes, sir.”
Gellert Grindelwald dismissed the others, then beckoned to Wade.
“Come with me, boy.”
Wade glanced at him, said nothing, and stepped forward.
His mind was racing. He hadn’t noticed that some of the blue flames had crept near the edges. Gellert Grindelwald was about to raise his wand to extinguish them—when he saw Wade step calmly over the flames, unharmed.
The old wizard’s smile deepened.
He waved his wand, letting the dangerous blue fire fade.
They left the chamber.
Just as Wade reached the door, a voice—desperate, broken—echoed in his ears.
He turned.
The red-eyed creature stared at him, its eyes filled with an unbearable longing.
Wade raised his wand.
The black-robed wizard beside him snapped: “Wait! You can’t—”
Boom.
A dull explosion. The wizard spun around.
Inside the cage, the figure had exploded into a cloud of blood and bone. Dead beyond death.
Yet, on the flying head, a ghost of a smile remained.
The other subjects erupted in chaos.
Many rushed to the glass, pounding it frantically, gesturing wildly—begging for the same swift end.
The wizard muttered, “You little fool… you’re really cutting ties with them, aren’t you?”
—Cutting ties with whom?
Wade stared blankly.
He was still reeling from the moment—the rush in his blood, his breath ragged, his wand trembling in his hand.
He raised the wand again, intending to cast a calming spell—when a firm hand seized his arm.
“Enough,” the wizard said. “One kill can be excused as impulse. But if you keep defying Gellert Grindelwald’s orders, even you will face punishment.”
He pulled Wade toward the door, speaking quickly.
“But I like your spirit. After this is over, drinks? I’m Antoine Moro—don’t forget it, Gray.”
The sudden use of his name—more powerful than any spell—calmed Wade instantly.
He looked at the man. Aside from his height—nearly six feet—his only distinguishing feature was a silver four-leaf clover ring on his hand.
Wade let himself be led out.
Gellert Grindelwald stood in the corridor, waiting.
He turned, meeting Wade’s eyes. No surprise. No anger. Just… quiet understanding.
“Let’s go,” he said.
Wade followed, silent.
He noticed Gellert Grindelwald knew the layout like the back of his hand. He turned corners with purpose, and finally stopped before a door—pushing it open with certainty.
Inside was a surveillance room.
No personnel remained. The desks and floor were a mess. Most of the surveillance footage had collapsed under magic, showing only static—black and white snow.
Only about a third of the cameras were still active, showing the ongoing battle between the Wizard Purity Party and enemy soldiers.
Casualties on both sides were heavy.
The wizards held no overwhelming advantage. Shields could block bullets—but only if they reacted in time.
Gellert Grindelwald sank into a chair, exhaling deeply.
The fierce energy that had burned through him moments ago began to fade. His body sagged, exhausted, worn down.
He looked at Wade.
“You’re surprised?” he said, a faint smile on his lips. “I’m not as powerful as people imagine. If you attacked now… you might send me back to Nurmengard. Or worse—into hell.”
Wade felt it—the sincerity in his voice. The fatigue wasn’t faked. The weakness was real.
The other wizards had been sent out. Only Wade remained.
And Wade’s eyes confirmed: no one was hiding.
Gellert Grindelwald removed his hood.
He stared at the man who had once been the most feared Dark Wizard in history.
“Do you really think I’d leave myself so exposed… if I didn’t believe you wouldn’t strike?”
Wade hesitated.
“You know what I wanted?” Gellert Grindelwald asked.
Wade’s gaze flickered.
The old man’s slogan—“The Wizard is the master, the Muggle is the servant”—was known to every witch and wizard.
Gellert Grindelwald answered before Wade could speak.
“I did want Wizard supremacy over Muggles. It was a golden chance. The world was in chaos. Even Muggle leaders had allies among us. But… we failed. Both of us.”
He looked at the screen, where a wizard was caught off guard by a bullet, his wand still unraised.
He was shot through the stomach.
Only the quick arrival of a comrade saved him from being blown apart.
Such incidents were common—slow reactions, poor spellcasting, missed targets. Gellert Grindelwald clenched his fists.
He wanted to cast a Disintegration Spell on every one of them.
But he held back. Instead, he let out a long, weary sigh.
“Peace breeds cowards. It’s a soft bed that cannot grow warriors. All I wanted was to plant a seed of rebellion in their hearts.”
He turned to Wade.
“Just now… my purpose was fulfilled. No matter how many years pass, every future wizard who sees this will remember it. They will never forget Muggle cruelty. They will never stop fearing Muggles.”
He paused.
“And you, Wade Gray?”
“You’re clever. After seeing this… will you still believe, as Dumbledore said, that Muggles are a weak group in need of protection?”
Wade thought for a moment.
This time, he didn’t avoid the question.
“Strength and weakness are relative. But morality and justice are not.”
He paused.
“Muggles harm wizards. Wizards harm Muggles. Crimes exist in both groups. To see only one side, to paint an entire group as the enemy—that’s the real mistake.”
“But wizards are persecuted,” Gellert Grindelwald shot back. “Forced to hide like rats. That’s fact!”
“Yet you’ve already proven that violence and slaughter don’t change anything,” Wade said bluntly. “Muggles have killed each other for thousands of years. The number of lives lost in their wars far exceeds anything wizards have done. Did they stop? Did they submit?”
“Of course they did,” Gellert Grindelwald sneered. “Don’t you have a little Indian girl in your group? You know how long her country was ruled by Brahmins and Kshatriyas? The untouchables there—no one ever rose up!”
Wade paused. Then said: “But not all Muggles are like India’s Dudley Dursleys. Unless you kill every educated Muggle, you can’t achieve the complete wizard rule you dream of.”
“And what about the other magical creatures who oppose you?” Gellert Grindelwald pressed. “If you kill Muggles, what about the rebellious creatures? If you kill the creatures, what about the peaceful wizards? If you kill everyone… who’s left?”
“Hatred and slaughter are just crude outbursts. They never solve anything.”
Wade’s voice grew firmer.
“To change the world, you must first ask: Who are our enemies? Who are our friends?”
“Only by uniting the broadest possible coalition—by winning allies, not enemies—can we grow strong enough to isolate and weaken our foes.”
“Enemies can be wizards. Enemies can be Muggles. But only those who cause widespread harm, who violate basic morality and justice—those are the real enemies.”
“Not like you, drawing a line and forcing everyone to choose: stand on one side, or you’re the enemy.”
“If you paint everyone as your enemy, even the best situation will crumble to ash. Like what happened to you… then.”
Hack. Hack. Hack. Hack. Hack.
A sudden, violent cough tore through the room.
Gellert Grindelwald doubled over, his body shaking as if torn apart. His back bent like a drawn bow. The sound echoed in every corner.
Wade snapped silent.
Regret flashed in his eyes.
Damn it… I went too far.
He watched the 110-year-old man in the chair, wracked by coughs, his frail frame trembling.
He was terrified—what if he’d killed him with words?
(End of Chapter)
Chapter end
Report
