Yes.
It was not that he did not want to call for help. On the contrary, he desperately wished reinforcements would appear at this moment, even if they could only hold Grindelwald off for a moment. But deep down, he knew better than anyone that calling for help was utterly meaningless. Ask the Ministry of Magic for aid?
Those officials sitting in London's Ministry offices had lived in comfort for years. In their daily lives, they only knew how to point fingers at documents; most of them could not even cast a steady Shield Charm smoothly, much less stand against a Dark Magic master like Grindelwald. Even if they arrived with reinforcements, they would only be throwing their lives away.
They might even disrupt Dumbledore's rhythm.
Ask the International Confederation of Wizards for help? Those wizarding representatives from every nation cared only about weighing interests and shifting responsibility. They usually turned a blind eye to Dark Magic forces. When life and death truly hung in the balance, they would only shrink back to protect themselves. No one would dare face the clash between these two legends head-on.
Grison closed his eyes. The cowardly faces of the Ministry officials flashed through his mind, and a bitter smile tugged at his lips. In the end, his fingers fell limp. He could only watch the battle in the sky, powerless to do anything.
At that moment, the battle in the sky abruptly intensified. The golden light around Dumbledore suddenly condensed into a golden sword several meters long. He raised the Elder Wand above his head and slashed his wrist down fiercely. With a piercing shriek through the air, the sword of light came down like a blade at dawn, cleaving brutally into the clouds of black fire around Grindelwald.
That golden light was