Sometimes Klein wondered: was he really born a villain?
There was no need to mention his previous life. As the Black Emperor seated upon the Mithril Throne, wherever the banner of the Mysterious Eye flew became imperial territory. Grindelwald I, born divine, had climbed a mountain of corpses and a sea of blood to become the spellcaster closest to godhood.
But what was going on in this life?
He studied hard, made progress every day, and actively fit into the Bronze Segment. His days were simple, unremarkable, and dull.
He hadn't done anything bad. So how had he become the Magical World's number-one Great Enemy?
He really couldn't make sense of it.
Klein wasn't the only one who couldn't make sense of things. The "Great White Wizard," Albus Dumbledore, was also completely bewildered.
Well, to put it another way—
It was like an old man carefully guarding a bomb's detonator, convinced everything was under control. Then one day, some cloven-hoofed creature suddenly barged into his home and told him, "There's been an explosion outside. We might all be dead before long."
There was really no way to describe how that felt.
"Don't you have anything to say?"
Dumbledore stared at Klein, who was sitting on his desk, and asked in a low voice.
"The innocent have nothing to fear, and the guilty will be exposed. I stand tall and act with integrity!"
Klein's expression turned solemn. He had been about to say exactly that. But then he remembered how he'd secretly made the Magic Ring, enslaved Voldemort, and clashed with the Ministry of Magic Aurors behind Dumbledore's back. He fell silent, blinked, and gave him a radiant, utterly innocent smile that only a boy could manage.
Silence spoke louder than words~
"Ah."
Dumbledore sighed, feeling a painful throb at his