First of all, William was still clear that he hadn't completely destroyed the Ashwinder Party back then—
It was almost impossible; Victor Rookwood's influence was significant throughout Scotland, as evidenced by the fact that he could openly conduct illegal activities around Hogwarts—of course, part of the reason was that the headmaster of Hogwarts at the time was not someone as responsible as "Dumbledore".
That being said, the "awakening of the prophet talent among the remnants of the Ashwinder Party" makes sense—
But…
William squinted, somewhat puzzled, because he once thought he had transcended the Three Realms and was beyond the Five Elements—
Sybill Trelawney, the great-great-granddaughter of the famous prophet "Cassandra Trelawney", once made a prophecy about Voldemort's fate, which Dumbledore had firmly assured William was genuine and trustworthy; at the time, it was certainly not some charlatan pretending to be mysterious…
William believed Dumbledore, but—
The prophecy was wrong; Voldemort's death was indeed related to Harry, who was born at the end of July, but not as closely as the prophecy described.
Voldemort "died" at the hands of "William Richard".
Dumbledore was puzzled by this, even now he hasn't figured out the reason—
But William realized it; being a cross-world traveler, he knew very well that this world was a novel world constructed by words. Although he wasn't very familiar with the original plot of "Harry Potter", he understood that a character like himself, with exaggerated combat power, definitely wouldn't appear in a "children's literature".
So he wasn't surprised that he could break the prophecy—but now, someone's prophecy actually included him.
William tapped his fingertips lightly on the wooden table, as if knocking on the unguarded soul of Davidson. Those deeply buried memory fragments, which even Davidson himself might not be able to recall, appeared before William like shattered glass shards—
"Prophet…"
William slid his palm, the relaxed expression on his face slightly restrained. Soon, a piece of "shard" like a pyramid floated in front of him.
On it, a figure in a black robe with a gloomy presence was standing on a high platform, seemingly giving a speech—it must be said, this image matched very well with William's stereotypical impression of a mastermind, much like Helbo the first time he appeared, also had a similar villainous image—
"Such a cliché villain."
William silently commented, enlarging the memory shard in front of him, then clicked the triangle at the bottom of the shard—'Begin Play'. As the mechanical female voice rang out, the "prophet" giving the speech started moving.
"…Our territory has been invaded, our companions have been killed, that demon who shouldn't have existed didn't see us as kin, we once rejoiced at his disappearance. And now! Just as I once saw, that demon has returned again, unchanged. We know his existence is a 'mistake'. He should be 'corrected'!…"
Alright, it seems this prophet isn't the silent Riddler type.
Listening to the passionate speech resounding in his ear, William squinted his eyes. Although the entire content was almost all cursing him, William still caught some specific words from this prophet's mouth—"mistake", "correct"…
As a cross-world traveler, the glaring nature of such words was self-evident.
After obtaining the information he wanted, William stopped exerting mental pressure and control. Opposite to him, Davidson collapsed into the chair like a pile of mud, completely losing consciousness.
The next moment, the cabin scenery dissipated like a retreating tide, and William was standing again in that cold forest of snow; the snowflakes that had just floated before him barely settled on the ground.
"…Is that it?"
Although William had completed the interrogation in the dream, and even watched an entire speech, in reality, only a moment had passed.
So, from Grindelwald's perspective, William merely waved his magic wand slightly, and then that man instantly fainted with a snap.
Besides, nothing happened.
William didn't immediately respond but first waved his hand to signal Lucius to take the unconscious man away—
"Treat him well, don't let him die."
"Yes, sir."
Lucius responded respectfully, and a group of black-robed individuals Apparated away, coming and going in haste.
When only the two remained in the woods once more, William turned his head, "It's settled. Under the leadership of a 'prophet', the Ashwinder Party is preparing to avenge me."
William paused but didn't voice his other suspicions.
Hearing this, Grindelwald instinctively frowned, "…A prophet? Isn't it some charlatan pretending to be mystic?"
Evidently, for such a term, any experienced wizard would first wonder if the other party was a fraudulent charlatan.
Even if Grindelwald himself was half a prophet.
"Probably not."
William shook his head, looking up at the night sky above, fragmented by tree branches, "From that guy's memory, I saw some things—next, I might need to disappear for a while. You'll have to handle things with old Dumbledore—"
"You're planning to go personally?" Grindelwald was a bit taken aback, "This is likely a trap."
"Of course, it's definitely a trap."
"Then why are you still…"
"So what?"
William's lips curled into a confident smile, as he retorted.
...
Meanwhile, on the other side.
The conversation between Athena and Hera was also coming to an end (this was just as the two "goddesses" had met).
"…No, I think it's too risky."
Listening to Athena's "proposal," Hera almost instinctively shook her head and refused outright, frowning, "Even if you say so, I don't think that demon is invincible. You probably aren't aware, that person once disappeared from the world for a while, just like us—"
"You don't… wait, what do you mean?"
Athena, who had been ready to continue persuading, paused, somewhat puzzled and asked.
"Seems you didn't know, Pallas—that 'William' has enemies besides us."
Hera's lips curved, seemingly pleased that she knew more than Athena. She stood up from the sofa, putting on the grey hood once more, and her form started to change. Soon, a much more rugged-looking man appeared in the center of the room—
"Ahem, follow me."
Saying this, she stepped into the green fireplace, lightly calling out, "Eagle's Nest!"