After the brief meeting with "Death", Ian sat quietly for a long time.
The aura of existence still lingers in the air - cold, ancient, as if even time itself dares not get close.
He slowly stood up and took out a black talisman. It was the mark he prepared for "death" to lock the anchor point of Gate of Time.
He chanted a mantra in a low voice, and the space vibrated slightly. The next moment, he had appeared in another country.
Here is United States Magical Congress of the United States of America.
And his destination is one of the most heavily guarded places on the continent: a maximum security prison.
--Grindelwald's cage.
The ancient Anti-Apparition Jinx spells overlapped layer by layer, and a barrier that even Phoenix could not penetrate flowed silently under his feet.
However, when he entered the cell, no alarm sounded.
He used House-elf's teleportation technique to force his way in - a Space Magic that almost no one can defend against.
The cell is cold and cold, with Anti-Magic runes carved on the stone walls.
In the deepest part, the former Dark Lord was sitting in the darkness with a stern look on his face.
Grindelwald's eyes shrank slightly the moment he saw Ian.
He realized that he was the only one who could see this "uninvited guest".
"What a rare visit." Grindelwald spoke slowly, his voice calm but with an edge, "Sir, what should I call you?"
Ian did not answer immediately.
He just raised his hand and activated Magic Core in his body.
Strong magical pressure swept through the entire cell, causing the runes on the stone wall to resonate.
Grindelwald's expression changed, and a hint of shock flashed deep in his pupils.
"You... broke the first restriction?"
Ian smiled and said softly, "Nice to meet you, Mr. Grindelwald. My name is--Ian."
The air freezes briefly.
He could feel that the other party was quickly judging, analyzing, and trying to understand him.
"It's strange," Grindelwald whispered, "A wizard like you shouldn't be unknown. What brought you here?"
Ian didn't beat around the bush.
"I came here to make a deal with you."
He stretched out his hand, and a contract scroll glowing with silver appeared in his palm.
There are ancient runes flowing on the scroll - that is the magic promised by the soul.
Grindelwald took it and scanned it quickly.
It says: Share his lifetime of magical knowledge, experimental records and ideological inheritance with the contract holder.
He sneered, "Why do you think I would sign such a contract?"
Ian's expression remained calm. "I could have threatened you with death, but I am against the death penalty."
He raised his wand and began to form a formation in the cell.
The runes are superimposed layer by layer, the air vibrates, and it is like the gears of an invisible machine operating.
Half an hour later, the cell was surrounded by a dense array of symbols.
The effects of those magics are extremely clear--
Block magic power, cut off sound, prevent Transfiguration from transforming, and block all external communication.
Even if Grindelwald tries to escape, these curse patterns will directly lock his soul and turn his body into an empty shell.
Grindelwald stared at these runes with a complex expression.
"You are such a dangerous person, Ian."
After a moment of silence, he suddenly chuckled, "With such a genius, you don't want to build an empire for yourself? Why not join me?"
We can lead the wizards to get rid of the ignorance of Muggles and rebuild the order that belongs to the strong."
Ian shook his head and said calmly, "Your ideal may be correct, but your method has long deviated from reason.
You think wizards are supreme, but you fail to see the potential of the Muggles civilization - the technology they create can evolve the world."
Grindelwald's eyes narrowed. "Technology? Do you also believe that those cold machines can coexist with magic?"
Ian didn't explain, just smiled.
"You should understand that sometimes it is not the enemy that destroys faith, but obsession."
He pointed to the contract. "Sign it, otherwise you will watch your revolution completely rot in this prison."
The air became tense for a moment.
A shadow flashed in Grindelwald's eyes.
He realized that the young wizard knew more than he seemed.
Even the secret bond between him and Dumbledore seems to have been seen through.
Finally, he sighed, picked up his pen and signed his name.
"Perhaps," Grindelwald whispered, "The times will eventually forget us all."
Ian smiled, "Then let history remember your knowledge, not your sins."
He put away the contract, the light of the talisman array dissipated, and the whole cell returned to silence.
The next second, his figure faded into the air.
--
In the next three days, Ian fulfilled the agreement with Aberforth and sent Ariana's soul safely back to reincarnation.
At that moment, he even felt a long-lost peace.
But the calm only lasted a moment.
He also has another contract - with Barebone.
In the quiet room of "Room of Requirement", candlelight flickered.
Barebone was sitting cross-legged in the center of the array, while Ian was watching from the side.
"Do you still remember the feeling of releasing 'Obscurus' for the first time?" Ian asked.
Barebone nodded slowly, his eyes a little hollow.
"Like... being swallowed by myself."
Ian recorded the data in a low voice.
He is interested in this power - the extreme form of "magic and emotional imbalance",
An energy that can create order out of destruction.
He tried to deduce: If he could control this energy, he might be able to break through the second limit.
That would be the first step to transcend the mundane world.
But the words "death" still echoed in his ears:
--"Wizard, don't tempt fate too early."
Ian gently closed the notebook with a calm expression.
"Destiny? It's just an algorithm that's not understood."
The candlelight flickered slightly, reflecting his stern silhouette.
He stretched out his hand and printed the contract in his palm, and the pale gold light shone.
"I have accepted the knowledge of Grindelwald. Next - is the era of reconstruction."
The wind blew past the window, taking away the last wisp of candle smoke.
The night is silent, but it seems to be whispering:
The contract is established and the destiny is written.