Who could have imagined that the Death Eaters would meet such a miserable end?
At any rate, Grindelwald, who had Acolytes, certainly had not.
"Voldemort!" Grindelwald looked at the monster before him and sighed, his voice hoarse yet calm. "He really was as cruel as ever." The stitched monster's body suddenly shuddered. On Bellatrix's half of the face, its mouth opened and let out a shrill, piercing scream. "Shut up! The Master is great! The Master is invincible! You—you old bastard—you know nothing!" It lunged forward, all six arms striking out at once. Its claws carved six icy streaks through the air, aimed straight for Grindelwald's head! Grindelwald twisted aside. The claws grazed past his shoulder and slammed into the fireplace behind him, detonating with a thunderous blast! Rubble flew, flames scattered, and a huge hole was blown through the entire wall, exposing the gray sky outside. The stitched monster did not stop. Its six arms swung wildly, every strike carrying enough force to tear apart steel, every strike making the entire house tremble! The claws flashed through the air, weaving an impenetrable net of death!
Grindelwald's figure moved swiftly through the living room, evading the lethal attacks. His pace was still unhurried, but every step was perfectly timed—he twisted aside to evade one swipe, ducked beneath another, vaulted over the sofa, and the instant he landed, dodged claws sweeping in from the side.
The claws skimmed past his body. Some struck the walls, some hit the ceiling, and some punched through the floor. The whole house shook as rubble and dust rained down. But this time, he was no longer dodging so easily.
Those eyes—the eyes all over the stitched monster's body—were watching him at once.
They were not merely looking. They were analyzing, predicting, capturing his every movement,