In the past, Wade had wondered if Muggle weapons could actually kill wizards with top-tier magical abilities, like Dumbledore, Voldemort, and Grindelwald.
No matter how powerful a wizard was, they always had the weakness of high offense and low defense.
For example, Professor McGonagall, who was incredibly skilled in magic and a master of Transfiguration, and later became the Headmaster of Hogwarts, was nearly incapacitated after being hit by four Stunning Spells.
And no matter how powerful those three once were, or how many formidable spells they mastered, they all ultimately died from the Killing Curse.
Especially Voldemort; he died twice—and both times from a Killing Curse that rebounded, a curse he himself cast.
Originally, Wade had envisioned that high-intensity, widespread modern weapon fire, forcing targets to Apparate without composure, would have a high chance of killing wizards at the very top of the pyramid.
But he never expected that the first time he witnessed such an imagined barrage of firepower, it would be at Grindelwald's command.
The perimeter walls were flattened, beautiful, tall buildings were reduced to rubble, and the previously dense figures rapidly disappeared amidst the flames and explosions. Even two tanks and a missile launcher that had been hiding behind buildings were destroyed.
Countless lives melted away like dew under the scorching sun, but perhaps because he didn't directly see corpses or blood, Wade didn't find the scene gory or cruel; he only found it dazzlingly spectacular.
What was the difference between this and a swarm of small drones carpeting an area with artillery fire?
He didn't know if anyone could survive such an attack—unless they had already taken refuge in a sturdy underground bunker beforehand.
After hearing Grindelwald's comments about Muggle weapons, Wade fell silent for a moment, then couldn't help but ask curiously, "Were all these paper airplanes... prepared a long time ago?"
This wasn't just a simple folding job; the paper airplanes could carry weights far exceeding natural buoyancy, and some could even flexibly dodge bullets, which surely involved Alchemy.
Even if it was simple, not everyone could master it.
If this scene was like a "ten years of sharpening a sword for one shocking strike" situation, that would be fine—there were only so many Alchemy apprentices in the Alliance capable of manual labor, and it would take them a long time to produce these airplanes, which were also single-use consumables with no possibility of recovery.
But Grindelwald had a slight smile on his lips and countered, "Wade, if Muggles want to mass-produce identical items, how do they do it?"
Wade hesitated for a moment, then said, "Assembly line production?"
Aslan's Magic Workshop used this method, which allowed them to produce enough products each time to quickly dominate the market, and new product releases were always promoted to wizards worldwide.
Grindelwald nodded and said, "It's the same for us. These lovely little fellows don't take as much time to make as you might think."
—What's 'assembly line production'?
Drayne thought to himself but didn't ask aloud. He simply noted the term, planning to look it up later.
He came from a very typical Pure-blood family. Although he always longed for wizards to rule Muggles, he disdained truly understanding the other group.
But now, seeing someone he admired learning about Muggle knowledge, and seeing how paper airplanes, originally just for communication, could create such terrifying scenes when equipped with Muggle weapons, he quietly began to change his perspective.
Grindelwald suddenly chuckled and said, "It seems those rats can't hide any longer... Günther, go deal with them!"
With the paper airplanes expended, those who had been hiding finally emerged—black vehicles drove out from underground, roaring as they tried to encircle the wizards from both sides, cylindrical muzzles extending from their sides, emitting a faint hum.
Drayne's eyes sharpened instantly. He pressed his left ear, giving orders, and in the blink of an eye, Apparated to the forefront, facing the steel beasts directly, raising his Wand.
Wade noticed that almost every member of the Alliance was equipped with a Communication Pea. They quickly split up, each targeting their respective opponents.
*"Boom!"*
The muzzles on the vehicles roared, spraying large amounts of golden dust that shimmered in the firelight.
The Shivangis Bells on the wizards' bodies glowed in unison, gently swaying.
Wade was observing the battle when he suddenly heard someone beside him ask, "Have you learned Fiendfyre?"
He abruptly turned, looking at Grindelwald.
Although he had already guessed why that Magic Books might be on the shelf, Grindelwald's direct question still surprised Wade.
He was silent for a moment, then finally decided to seize the opportunity, saying, "...Actually, there are still a few things I don't quite understand."
"Hm? Tell me," Grindelwald said calmly.
In the battlefield not far away, the golden dust seemed to transform into small tornadoes, constantly drilling into the bells hanging from many wizards' belts.
Aside from a very few unlucky individuals who accidentally inhaled the golden dust and collapsed, most were unaffected. They cast spells as they advanced towards the enemy.
—It wasn't that the wizards didn't want to run; it was just that this brisk walk ensured greater accuracy for their spells.
Some vehicles were overturned by rapidly expanding stones, others skidded into suddenly appearing bogs while speeding, and some drivers were suddenly controlled by a Confundus Charm, crashing their vehicles into others.
Wade withdrew his gaze from the battle and asked, "Aside from the Patronus Charm, I've never seen a spell that can independently distinguish between friend and foe... It's both protection and a devil's flame that can bring death."
"But is the decision of how to distinguish made by the thought at the moment of casting? Is this thought a result of comprehensive consideration, or a subconscious one?"
Grindelwald chuckled, "If we were to follow a subconscious that even we don't understand, then after the spell, there might not be many people left around me."
He emotionlessly watched some clumsy wizards who cast spells by wildly swinging their arms and shouting incantations, and said flatly:
"You've learned Occlumency, but only the sealing part; you haven't learned how to create false memories."
"As long as you clear your mind of distractions and leave only one clear thought, that will be the direction your flame will burn."
Wade paused, then realized something, his eye twitching slightly. He barely managed to hold back a retort.
—How did you know I learned Occlumency?
—So, you old man, you tried Legilimency on me when I wasn't paying attention?
He was relieved that he had learned Occlumency early on and cleared his mind every night before bed. At the same time, he once again clearly understood the difference between Grindelwald and Dumbledore.
This Dark Wizard, already so powerful, seemed to have no concept of "bullying children is immoral."
After a pause, Wade skipped the question and asked again, "Fiendfyre and the Shield Charm are both Dark Magic that's very difficult to master, right? In fact, this one might be even harder."
"Even if you don't maintain the spell with magic after casting it, the flames will devour those around you to strengthen themselves... so if it gets out of control, it will definitely cause massive casualties."
"How can you fully master or counter it?"
Grindelwald gave him a half-smile and said, "Mastering it is one thing... but you want to learn how to counter my flames?"
Wade's gaze flickered, a little embarrassed, but he shamelessly pressed on, "...Can I learn? If not, then never mind."
"If I'm going to teach, I'll naturally teach the complete package," Grindelwald said. "The secret to mastery lies in courage and determination—you cannot fear your own flames, nor can you waver."
"Even if you see comrades you once trusted turn to ash in the fire, you must always believe—it wasn't you who was wrong, and certainly not your spell. Once the decision has been made, anyone consumed by the flames is an enemy, nothing more."
Wade looked at Grindelwald's cold profile and couldn't help but think—he must have been through that himself, right?
Watching familiar people confidently walk into his flames, screaming, begging, dying, only then realizing that the other party wasn't truly his comrade.
In the distance, Drayne shattered several bottles, and ominous green smoke exploded like rapidly expanding clouds, engulfing an entire vehicle.
The people inside screamed as they rushed out, their skin quickly rotting, covered in blisters. They frantically clawed at their faces with both hands, losing consciousness within moments.
Drayne, who looked like an elite warrior, was actually a Potions master.
Several vehicles flew up under the control of the Levitation Charm, then crashed heavily, before suddenly shattering into pieces, revealing the dazed soldiers inside.
Those who had rushed out in vehicles finally realized that steel armor provided no protection; instead, it became an aid for the enemy to slaughter them. They scrambled out of their cars.
"Bang bang bang..."
Amidst scattered gunshots, several Alliance members suddenly fell.
The soldiers who fired the shots themselves looked incredulous—why had missiles and machine guns had no effect before, but smaller bullets killed the enemy?
They immediately understood then that not every wizard was as strong as a monster! That trick of blocking bullets wasn't as effective when the wizards were spread out!
More muzzles spewed fire.
But the wailing and sacrifices clearly didn't dampen Grindelwald's enthusiasm for teaching. He coldly watched his own people die, and also watched those who didn't die rapidly grow under immense pressure.
He was the leader of the Alliance, but not their nanny. He had no interest in using his aging, weary body as a wall to protect the Alliance members like infants.
Nor did he ponder what Wade was thinking; instead, he continued:
"When you doubt and resent magic, magic will betray you—this is true for any magic, but the backlash from the Shield Charm is even more cruel."
"As for how to counter it... there's actually only one way..."
The surroundings were very noisy, and Grindelwald lowered his voice at this moment. Wade instinctively moved closer to hear more clearly.
...
On the hillside, if not for the baby's lack of strength, Voldemort suspected he might have jumped up in surprise several times.
Fortunately, each time he was about to do so, his soft bones forced him to interrupt his thoughts, maintaining a very calm and steady motionless posture.
Barty Crouch Jr. beside him was different; he was drenched in cold sweat, his face growing paler, and the hand holding his wand trembled slightly.
Looking at the battlefield below, he unconsciously put himself in the position of the attacked party, and each time he found it difficult to survive in such a meat grinder.
The initial hail of bullets would probably have turned people into sieves... Weren't those paper planes just little trinkets bought by the Ministry of Magic? How could they be so powerful... Why hadn't it ended yet, how many paper planes did they even have?
What was that golden powder... The Muggles seemed confident, but it had no effect...
If he was protecting his master, and someone was also taking potshots at him from behind, blocking one shot only to face another, how many times could he handle it?
The reason why the Alliance wizards hadn't suffered large-scale casualties was because they were surrounded by comrades, who could cover each other's blind spots, and the effect of their spells was more than the sum of their parts.
However, Barty Crouch Jr., due to his personal stance and his father's identity, had never truly made good friends on either side.
He used to think nothing of it, because the Voldemort he worshipped had proven that as long as one was powerful enough, friends were unnecessary, and everyone would bow down anyway.
But now, it seemed that when one wasn't so powerful, having a comrade was actually very important, especially when facing the Muggles' powerful and insidious weapons...
"Barty," Voldemort suddenly said.
"Master?"
"Look at that person, the one standing next to Grindelwald."
Baby Voldemort pointed with his wand and said.
Barty Crouch Jr. quickly found the person he was referring to—Grindelwald wasn't wearing his hood, and his white hair stood out conspicuously among the many dark-robed wizards.
The person wasn't tall, but was very close to Grindelwald, their positions indicating a very intimate relationship.
Moreover, he hadn't made a move the entire time, which clearly couldn't be because his status was higher than Grindelwald's; it could only be that his magical abilities weren't as strong, and so he was being protected.
"It looks like he might be a descendant Grindelwald values," Barty Crouch Jr. guessed. "Not tall... perhaps not very old either."
"Hmm, make a note," Voldemort said. "If we have to deal with the Alliance later, this could be a breakthrough point."
"Yes."
Barty Crouch Jr. responded, looking at the cloaked figure.
Although his appearance wasn't clear, if they encountered the Alliance again in the future, seeing a young wizard of similar height being highly valued would likely confirm his identity.
If Grindelwald wanted his descendant to be his successor, he couldn't possibly keep the person hidden forever...
...
On the battlefield, Wade, who had been comfortably not casting a single spell, suddenly clenched his fists, his expression instantly taut, his scalp feeling like it was about to explode.
After asking his main questions, Grindelwald suddenly placed a hand on his shoulder and asked, "Wade, are you planning to escape today?"
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