Magic was declining.
And from the ruins, a hero was born.
Terrified people would follow that hero.
Grindelwald set foot in Poland once again.
Grimm, who had seen what happened during the election, walked out of the Ministry of Magic and stopped him.
"What should I call you?" Grimm's expression was complicated, mixed with anger and despair. "Are you going to kill me? Just like you killed the others?"
"Grimm, I won't kill you."
Still wearing Inge's face, Grindelwald shook his head. "I won't kill anyone."
"Thousands died in Bhutan."
"I didn't kill them," Grindelwald said. "They were sacrifices for magic."
"To make magic great again, we need to break the rules that have shackled us for far too long."
Grindelwald raised his right hand, showing an image of the explosion.
"Did you see it?"
"Yes, I saw it." Grimm nodded.
"How terrifying it was," Grindelwald said gravely. "No wizard could survive an attack like that."
"I merely showed everyone the threat and hostility of Muggles."
His eyes were filled with pity for magic, like a saint grieving for the world.
"Believe in me, just as you once did."
His expression was deeply moving.
But Grimm said, "I find that very difficult."
"I know, my friend." Grindelwald shook his head. "I'm here to say goodbye."
"I will leave this place. Everything here will be entrusted to you. Protect our people well."
He turned and walked away, truly showing no intention of continuing to interfere with the Polish Ministry of Magic.
Grimm watched him leave, then slowly unclenched his fist.
"Grindelwald, I won't believe you."
With that, Grimm turned and entered the Ministry of Magic.
The Ministry was now leaderless, and he needed to protect the wizards here.
Grindelwald's face gradually returned to its original appearance.
"What do we do now?"
A young man appeared beside Grindelwald.
If John had been there, he would have recognised him as the wizard who had appeared at the defence facility.
Another man appeared as well, the wizard who had transported the weapons that day.
"I think our people are still dreaming of peaceful coexistence with Muggles."
Grindelwald looked toward the wizarding settlement that was gradually recovering and said, "We need to spread the news."
"What news?"
"What happened in Poland."
At that moment...
A newly appointed Black Zone employee rode the lift down to the lowest level.
He lit the Hand of Glory and walked into the darkness.
Tick, tick, tick...
"What is that sound?"
The employee froze and walked toward it.
Using the faint light from the Hand of Glory, he reached the source of the noise.
He stared at the strange object and knocked on it with his hand.
It was a large metal tube, short and stout, almost a little cute.
"Is this an alarm clock?"
He noticed a note stuck beside it.
There was a single sentence written on it.
"A warning bell for the world."
The employee did not understand.
He stared blankly at it for a while.
Tick.
The sound stopped.
Grindelwald gave the Polish Ministry of Magic one final glance.
Then he Disapparated.
...
Silverhand Johnny Specialty Store, Polish Branch.
"I need to go back."
Tommy said, "I'll leave everything here to you from now on, Joe."
The Silverhand security guard named Joe nodded.
Tommy looked at the newspaper.
His gaze swept over the list of confirmed dead.
Barty Sr.. Lippi...
He could be certain that Oz already knew.
His heart clenched painfully.
The friend who had made plans with him not long ago was suddenly dead.
The unreality of it all nearly made him faint.
Tommy forced himself to remain alert.
"My lord still needs me. Oz needs me."
He looked at John in the newspaper.
That face seemed cold and emotionless.
But it was numbness.
Tommy Shelby.
From the moment he had first seen that young man inside the cage, he had understood.
That was someone worth following.
Just how great a blow had he suffered to become like this?
Tommy did not want to stay even a moment longer.
He needed to go back.
Back to Oz.
Back to his lord.
"He needs me."
Tommy shook Joe's hand one last time and said goodbye to the place.
After he stepped into the fireplace and was swallowed by blue flames, Joe heard some kind of commotion outside.
He frowned and saw the employees staring outside in terror.
He pushed his way through and looked over.
A wave of pressure struck first.
Then came a burst of unbearable heat, too fast for anyone to react.
Joe's body rapidly vaporised.
...
"Grandpa, you can't keep making me do this."
The little boy who helped with purchasing finally worked up the courage to say, "That money is supposed to be for my studies."
"Study, study!" the old man snapped angrily. "I think studying has made you stupid!"
"What can studying do for you? Once you have money, you won't have to go hungry!"
"But if I study hard and grow up to become an excellent wizard, then we won't have to keep doing this." The little boy hid his young wizard card behind his back. "If I become a powerful wizard, I can make sure you never have to work again for the rest of your life."
The old man froze.
Looking at his grandson's serious expression, he seemed dazed.
He had almost forgotten that his grandson had said things like this many times before.
"I want to become a righteous wizard," the little boy said firmly. "Then even without making money this way, you can still live a good life, Grandpa."
"You little brat," the old man cursed.
He raised his hand, and the little boy thought he was about to be beaten.
But this time, he had already made up his mind.
He would not let his grandfather continue down the wrong path.
The beating he expected never came.
Instead, a rough old hand landed on his head.
The old man ruffled his grandson's hair and sighed.
"Then study hard."
The little boy's eyes widened in disbelief.
"Grandpa, you serio—"
A smile spread across his face.
His words were cut off.
The devastating shockwave reached them.
And swallowed them whole.
...
"The Second King."
The representatives of the various countries gathered at the International Confederation of Wizards looked at the young man who seemed like the son of a god.
Not long ago, the wave of the Second Dynasty had swept across Europe, showing everyone just how terrifying that force was.
Bulgarian Minister for Magic Obransk hesitated. "Choose him?"
The Second King was different from Dumbledore.
His ambition was obvious for all to see.
From Knockturn Alley at the beginning, to half of Europe later on.
The Second King's ambitions had expanded so rapidly that, within only a few years, Europe had been forced to regard him as one of its greatest rivals.
He was not Dumbledore.
He did not possess that natural instinct to sacrifice himself for the greater good, nor was he a saint.
How many Ministries of Magic represented here had been forced to negotiate because of the arrival of the Second Dynasty?
Those who would not submit were conquered.
The Second King's ambition could swallow all of Europe, perhaps even the entire world.
That was why the Bulgarian Minister for Magic hesitated.
He wanted a hero who could save the world, but he also wanted a saint.
The Second King was undeniably ambitious, yet for some reason, his conquests had never seemed aimed at the Ministries of Magic.
And now, the Ministries themselves were considering inviting him in.
"John Wick is not Dumbledore."
Roland waved his wand, causing the image from the newspaper to rise into the air.
"Look at him. He's already a hero," Minister Roland said. "He saved more than a thousand lives."
"We have seen his nobility, and so has society."
The image enlarged until everyone in the chamber could see it clearly.
"John Wick does not need us," Percy said at that moment, a sharp light in his eyes. "We need John Wick."
"He does not need to become a hero, because he already is one."
Percy looked toward Yelufan.
There was something in those young eyes that suddenly reminded everyone of one thing.
He was a star.
A brilliant, dazzling star among countless others.
Without anyone realising it, Percy had begun to take control of the council.
He swept his gaze over the representatives who were still hesitating and said calmly, "He will be the hero who guides those who have lost their way."
"Without him, does the current International Confederation of Wizards still have any meaning?"
"Percy Weasley, don't forget that you're one of us too," one wizard said unhappily. "You're belittling yourself."
"I never was."
Percy's answer stunned everyone.
He calmly swept his gaze across the chamber, his tone even but firm.
"I know some of you already have a hunch, so I won't lie. It is an undeniable truth that stars shine in the dark, and it is a truth just as absolute that I follow my King."
He leaned forward slightly, carrying the oppressive presence of a seasoned politician who had survived countless battles.
"Now, my King will cast that light across the entire wizarding world."
His piercing gaze made everyone forget that he was only twenty-two years old.
At that moment, a sheet of paper flew toward Minister Roland.
He caught it and glanced at it casually.
One look was enough to make his expression change drastically.
"Something's happened in Poland!"
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