For some reason, ever since their conversation had touched on Voldemort, the atmosphere on the top floor of the prison had suddenly become strange.
Looking at the old man in the cell, Albert kindly reminded him, "Don't use that name here."
"You don't seem like someone who'd be afraid of him."
Grindelwald studied Albert again. He was certain this man was Dumbledore's prized student.
That man was clearly already dead, yet his prized student was still wandering around in front of him.
Was this meant to show off? But Dumbledore did not seem like the sort to do something so childish.
"I don't want Lord Voldemort to know I came looking for you, and I especially don't want him to suddenly appear and kill you."
"Oh, it seems I can't die yet."
Grindelwald took his own life and death rather lightly. He did not press the matter further, but Albert had no intention of speaking in riddles with him and directly explained why.
"Dumbledore spent much of his life studying his student named Tom Riddle." Albert told Grindelwald about the tangled history between Dumbledore and his student, Tom Riddle.
"It seems that Tom was a more outstanding Dark wizard than I was." After hearing it all, Grindelwald unexpectedly praised someone else.
"Even if he took the wrong path."
"Wait until he loses completely before you say he took the wrong path." Grindelwald scoffed at Albert's words. "History is written by the victors. As long as Lord Voldemort wins, none of it will matter, and everyone will shut up."
"Oh, that is true. Victory can cover up many things."
Albert had never denied that. History was written by the victors, and even the truth could be blurred for its sake.
"But I still think that guy is a madman."
"Oh."
Grindelwald