Bellatrix flew into a rage out of humiliation.
"Or should we start from the first time you used the Cruciatus Curse to torture those Muggles?" Grindelwald cut her off, her tone still calm, carrying a faint, almost pitying mockery.
"Bellatrix Lestrange, you have spent your entire life searching for a master to kneel before. First your father, then the Dark Lord, and now Voldemort, who cannot even protect himself and hides in the shadows, too afraid to show his face. You have never lived for yourself, never made a single decision for yourself. You merely keep changing masters, keep kneeling, keep turning yourself into a blade in someone else's hand." It was mockery aimed straight at her deepest wound.
Bellatrix's expression changed.
All those eyes widened at once, their pupils bursting with a dazzling dark-red glow. Her body trembled slightly—not from fear, but rage.
"Shut up!" Bellatrix could not accept it. She screamed, her voice shrill and grating, carrying that strange resonance as though countless voices had been layered together.
"What do you know?! You know nothing! The Master gave me power! The Master loves me! I live for the Master, and I die for the Master—this is my glory, the meaning of my existence! You old fool who was locked in a tower for fifty years—what right do you have to judge me?!"
She raised her hand, pointing her wand at Grindelwald. Without an incantation or any preparation, a dark-red beam shot from its tip with astonishing speed!
Grindelwald twisted aside. The beam skimmed past her shoulder and struck the fireplace behind her. Boom! The fireplace exploded, scattering stone and flames in every direction. A massive hole was blasted through the entire wall, exposing the gray sky outside and the distant spire of a church.
Smoke and dust filled