Do you believe in fate?

"Indeed."

Seeing Klein's choice, the portraits of past Headmasters on the wall couldn't help but show complex and regretful expressions.

The more talented a wizard, the easier it was to become intoxicated by great power, and thus lose their original heart.

Tom was like that once, and now Klein was the same.

"Clichéd."

Ignoring the gazes behind him, Klein opened the thick black book, shaking his head inwardly. These spells were ancient and primitive, utterly worthless as reference. If Dumbledore's private collection was only this level, then it was truly disappointing.

"Klein!"

Seeing the promising Slytherin seedling straying further down the wrong path, Phineas Black's heart sank, and he couldn't help but call out to Klein.

"What is it, Headmaster Black?"

Klein put down the book and turned back with a feigned look of confusion.

"Er... that book is a bit profound. I suggest you pick another one."

Meeting those sapphire-like eyes, Phineas Black found himself at a loss for words, so he just made up an excuse to brush it off.

A bunch of old schemers plotting against a mere eleven-year-old child—it was hardly a good look, no matter how you spun it.

"Profound? I think it's fine."

The corners of his mouth curling up, Klein revealed a meaningful smile. The wand hidden in his sleeve settled firmly into his palm.

"Ghouls Summon."

A deep gray smoke burst from the Purple Sandalwood Wand. Under the portraits' expressions of utter disbelief, a hideous monster two meters tall materialized out of thin air!

"What are you doing!" "Merlin's Beard!" "Klein, stop!"

The Headmasters panicked, shrieking one after another. They never dreamed anyone could learn a genuine Dark Art in just a few minutes—especially an eleven-year-old child.

Not even Tom Riddle, let alone Merlin himself, had ever been this outrageous!

"Cheep!"

The terrifying ghoul appeared, and the "bald chicken" that had been playing dead in the corner of the office suddenly let out a shrill cry. Its tiny, scrawny body trembled uncontrollably, its round eyes brimming with boundless disgust toward Dark Creatures.

"A Phoenix. How rare."

Eyeing the "bald chicken" with interest, Klein even waved at the trembling old bird as if nothing was wrong.

"Klein, cancel the spell now!" "Send it back where it came from!" "It must not leave this office!"

Klein could casually toy with the Phoenix, but the Headmasters on the wall were practically desperate to leap out of their portraits and deal with the terrifying monster in the office.

They shouted warnings at Klein, their eyes practically blazing with urgency.

"Don't worry, it's no big deal."

Having achieved his goal, Klein raised his wand again.

"All Return to Silence."

This time, a ghostly blue flame crow appeared. The moment it materialized, the ghoul's face twisted with fear.

"Fiendfyre..."

It was over. Everything was over now.

The Headmasters were completely speechless.

Fiendfyre was the most evil of magical flames—it would devour furniture, walls, the office, students... everything!

"All Spells Dissipated!"

Just then, Dumbledore burst into the office from outside and cast a Dispersal Charm without hesitation.

But unexpectedly, after consuming the ghoul, the ghostly blue Fiendfyre crow was not dispelled by Dumbledore's spell. Instead, it lazily flew to Klein's shoulder and gently pecked at its nonexistent feathers with its flame-formed beak.

The atmosphere turned somewhat eerie.

"Professor Dumbledore, I've been using the Confundus Charm and Obliviate to manipulate Muggles and travel the world since I was six. Your test was far too simple."

Staring into Dumbledore's deep brown eyes, Klein's lips curled slightly upward.

"I'm curious—does the fact that you couldn't dispel my Fiendfyre mean I win? Well then..."

He reached out and beckoned toward Dumbledore.

"Whoosh!"

The oddly shaped wand, as if responding to some summons, flew straight from the old man's palm into Klein's hand.

"Heh, the Elder Wand. Doesn't feel all that special."

Tossing the Elder Wand carelessly onto the desk behind him, he casually dismissed the Fiendfyre.

"The invincible wand is just a joke, wouldn't you say?"

"Of course. That's an obvious question."

Dumbledore stood silently in place, tucking his hands back into the wide sleeves of his robes. Even though his wand had already acknowledged a new master, the old man's face still showed not a trace of panic.

"I can tell from your expression what you're about to say. Don't bother guessing—I am indeed Klein Will Grindelwald, the last descendant of the Grindelwald family."

Klein withdrew his wand, positioning himself on equal footing with the old man. Stepping aside, he spoke in a tone that carried a hint of inquiry.

"May we sit and talk, Professor?"

"Of course."

Dumbledore paused, then smiled easily, walking toward his desk without any guard.

One step, two steps, three steps.

The distance between them shrank. The portraits of the Headmasters clamped their hands tightly over their mouths. With Klein and Dumbledore's level of magical mastery, whichever one struck first would have a strong chance of killing the other.

The atmosphere nearly froze into ice!

But—

The scene they imagined never came.

Dumbledore smoothly returned to his armchair, while Klein brazenly hopped onto the desk and sat down casually.

"You know, you're the first brat who's dared to sit on my desk. And move over—you're about to crush my wand!"

Dumbledore's tone carried a hint of irritation, his emotions plain as day like an old child.

"This shouldn't be happening!"

The Headmasters screamed inwardly, desperate to leap out of their frames and remind Dumbledore that the person before him was no child, but a demon who wielded Dark Magic as easily as eating and drinking!

"That wand is mine now. But since you insist... fine, I'll let you borrow it for a while."

Klein shrugged, picked up the Elder Wand, and handed it to Dumbledore.

"Remember, it's borrowed, not given."

"Very well, stingy Mr. Grindelwald. I'll know my limits."

Taking the Elder Wand, Dumbledore gave it a casual flick.

"Success!"

The Headmasters on the walls cheered.

Though they had no idea why Klein had made such a foolish move, victory belonged to Hogwarts—Dumbledore had won!

The next second, something that made their jaws drop happened—

A pot of steaming hot Honey Tea drifted over slowly.

Dumbledore had used what might have been his only precious opportunity to brew a pot of tea?

Had he lost his mind?!

"So then, Mr. Grindelwald—"

Dumbledore looked at Klein, whose expression had turned strange, and spoke slowly.

"Professor, call me Klein."

After a few seconds of thought, Klein set down the drink that looked suspiciously like concentrated honey, not bothering to look up as he replied.

"Then, Klein, I'm listening."

Taking a light sip from his cup, Dumbledore felt an infinite sweetness melt on his tongue. He set down the wand and turned to Klein like a quiet listener.

"I like dealing with smart people."

Klein blinked, leaning forward slightly.

"Professor, do you believe in fate?"