Grindelwald Was No More

Grindelwald set foot on this unfamiliar land.

Death's dwelling place is very small; in terms of area alone, it is smaller than Nurmengard.

In this tiny place lives a god who has influenced human history for thousands of years.

Grindelwald followed in the footsteps of Death, circling the river once, and finally strolling to the tall Elder Wood.

The island was simple, barren, with only Elder Wood as its sole living organism; everything else was inanimate.

It's hard to imagine that this is the abode of Death.

It's more like a cage.

So, what makes the Elder Wood tree, as the only living organism, so special?

The reason is simple: it grew from Elder Wood seed planted by Death when he became a god.

Over the next thousand years, Death used the River Styx to nourish it day and night until it grew to this size.

It is both the source of Death's power, an inseparable part of life, and the embodiment of his soul.

This Elder Wood is Death's... destiny!

Only by cutting it off can the man be stripped of his identity as the Death, thus giving us the opportunity to kill him completely.

Grindelwald entered the Underworld and has remained hidden ever since, all for this Elder Wood.

Of course, as the embodiment of "destiny," it cannot be destroyed by just anyone.

Magic, weapons, and even Prehistoric Mysteries are all impossible to achieve!

Only Death's weapon... can.

Death has two weapons: a scythe and an axe.

Holding a sickle, one can reap millions of lives;

With an axe in hand, one can change the world.

They are the only two things that can cut Elder Wood.

A Scabbers axe appeared in Grindelwald's hand.

After entering the Underworld, he rode the North Sea Kraken and ventured to the end of the River Styx. In the land of the dead, he finally found the battle axe.

But even with an axe in hand, how can a mortal cut through the Elder Wood of Death?

You can't get anything without making sacrifices. You have to pay an equal price to get something.

The elderly person's only option is... death.

This was not an ordinary death, but a complete sacrifice of the soul.

After the sacrifice, one cannot become a ghost, cannot enter the River Styx for reincarnation, and cannot be summoned... completely vanishing into nothingness.

Grindelwald had known this all along, yet he still didn't hesitate at all about this trip to the Underworld.

They were even quite happy.

He hasn't killed a god yet.

On his deathbed, he traded his aging life for Death... It was worth it!

Or rather, in Grindelwald's view, he should have died long ago.

Back then, during the three-way battle, did no one really notice Ariana?

No, Grindelwald saw it.

He could foresee the future and "witnessed" the girl's fate at the very beginning of the chaos.

He still didn't stop it; in fact, he was... secretly pleased.

Ariana is Obscurial, and she wasn't going to live much longer anyway.

If she had died in an accident, it would have been a relief for everyone.

Especially for Albus Dumbledore!

The young Grindelwald thought to himself:

Albus is no longer burdened by his sister, nor does he have to bear the responsibility of taking care of her.

They could finally fly away, following their preordained journey to seek the sacred, to obtain Prehistoric Mysteries, and to find Death.

They joined forces,

Revolutions has failed in this world!

Let's build a whole new world!

Ariana's death was for... For the Greater Good!!

but,

When the girl actually died in the melee, Grindelwald felt a pang of panic.

What followed far exceeded his expectations.

He still remembers the scene:

The young Dumbledore slowly knelt down, embraced the small corpse, and pressed his forehead tightly against hers.

At that moment, the boy hugged his sister, tears streaming down his face, and he began to sob.

Looking at that extremely pained face, Grindelwald was momentarily dazed and lost in thought, even feeling a pang of heartache.

He had a premonition:

I might lose Dumbledore.

Grindelwald's hunch was right.

They poured out their hearts to each other and had in-depth exchanges. They were like-minded comrades, even closer than blood brothers.

Or should we just part ways like this?

Dumbledore broke down. His eyes were filled with pain, and he didn't say another word to him. He just knelt on the ground alone, digging a grave with his bare hands, his fingers stained with blood...

Grindelwald was disappointed.

Then, he ran away.

Like a coward.

He came alone; when he left, he took only the medicine bottle from which he had made Blood Pact with Albus.

This is a keepsake between the two of them.

But Albus didn't chase after them at all, and Grindelwald's disappointment turned into despair.

Aberforth pursued him, intending to kill him.

The outcome of the battle was predetermined.

Grindelwald easily subdued Aberforth. He disliked Aberforth, but did not harm the boy.

After all, this was Albus Dumbledore's only family.

From then on, Grindelwald continued on his journey alone, according to the plan he had made that summer.

He was like someone who kept running forward, never looking back, simply because...

I feel guilty.

Ariana's death left Grindelwald with lifelong guilt.

He should have died at Dumbledore's hands in that final battle.

He didn't kill him; instead, he spared his life.

From then on, in Nurmengard, in that dark and damp prison, Grindelwald imprisoned himself for fifty years, spending the rest of his life solely to atone for his sins.

Not only for the Muggle and wizards he killed over the years, but also for that innocent girl.

Grindelwald was not afraid of death; he clung to life, merely seeking redemption.

If one could atone for the sins of those years with their own death, what could be easier?

The old man raised his axe and, without hesitation, chopped hard at the Elder Wood.

As the axe struck the vines, the phantom of a sickle appeared in mid-air.

It was like a reaping tool, slowly pulling Grindelwald's soul away.

The soul, separated from the body, is burning intensely; it is a piercing pain.

He didn't stop.

He kept swinging the axe.

As long as Death doesn't leave this island, the wizard will have no chance to come up.

Even if Death leaves, once it senses something amiss, it can instantly traverse space and return here;

Even if Death doesn't return, and we don't find the axe at the end of the River Styx, we still can't destroy the Elder Wood...

Now, all of this is happening simultaneously.

This was what he told William... his only hope.

How could he give up so easily!

The old man, like a diligent lumberjack, kept raising his axe and chopping at the Elder Wood.

Click!

The Elder Wood had been used to make the Elder Wand, the Holy Grail, and countless Deathly Hallows... fell to the ground.

By this moment, Grindelwald's soul had been completely torn out, like a long-burning cigarette about to burn out.

"Please, Albus, forgive me, forgive me for all the harm I've caused you in this lifetime."

In the darkness, the old man stretched out his withered, bamboo-like arm, reaching towards the sky.

On his deathbed, scenes from that summer replayed in his mind:

Young Dumbledore and young Grindelwald stood facing each other in a barn.

Both of them used their wands to draw a line on their palms.

Blood flowed out, and they clasped their hands together.

"Ten fingers intertwined,

Blood flows.

I will always remember my love.

Never hurt her.

The old man's five fingers began to disappear, then his arms, and then his body.

"The most precious thing in my life is that you arrived with that summer."

"But summer is over, and so is my story..."

"So, Albus..."

"Bye now."

So... Albus Dumbledore is gone forever.

A gentle breeze swept through the world, dispersing the stench of blood and the dust.

Grindelwald vanished without a trace, never to be seen again.

Gellert is no more.