Both Barty Crouch Sr. and Barty Crouch Jr. were Slytherins.
Their awkwardness and refusal to speak honestly had always been written plainly across their faces.
Barty Crouch Sr. had always regarded his son as his pride, but he had kept that pride buried deep in his heart and never said it aloud.
Because of that, Barty Crouch Jr. had come to believe that his father had never been proud of him, which was part of what drove him to join the Death Eaters and prove himself.
But this disaster had nearly made Barty Crouch Sr. lose his son all over again.
He had not yet made up for everything he owed him, and that terrified him.
At this moment, Barty Crouch Sr. was not the best Minister for Magic in a hundred years, nor was he a candidate for President of the International Confederation of Wizards.
He was simply a father.
A father terrified of losing his son.
The two finally reconciled there.
Then Odom's voice came from nearby.
"Hey, there's another one here. Give me a hand!"
With only one hand, Odom was having trouble rescuing people. He grabbed the person buried beneath the rubble and tried to pull them out.
Barty Crouch Sr. and Barty Crouch Jr. went over to help.
They cleared away the heavy debris above, allowing the person to be dragged free.
"Why does he look kind of familiar?" Odom stared at the rescued man's face.
Suddenly, the man opened his eyes.
Odom jumped in fright.
"You all right?" Odom asked the man, whose face was covered in blood and grime.
The man did not answer.
He simply stared at him.
Odom grew a little annoyed. He had just saved the man's life, and the fellow could not even say thank you.
He looked around and said, "We need to reorganise everyone and start rescue operations. First, we need to get out of here."
As someone qualified to be nominated as a candidate, Odom was no fool.
The attack had not reached the area beneath the castle in the sky, and the wizards down there still had no idea what had happened.
"I'll take Ms. Zhang down. Barty... Barty Crouch Sr., bring your son down afterward."
Odom glanced at the father and son, then looked at the rescued man.
"Can you move? Come with us."
The man's blank expression made them wonder whether he had hit his head.
Barty Crouch Jr. looked at him.
The more he looked, the more familiar the man seemed.
Suddenly, the man roared, "Make magic great again!"
It was Starr.
He had survived, but he had never intended to stay alive.
Something slipped from his hand.
It was a detonator.
"Protego!"
Without hesitation, Barty Crouch Sr. pointed his wand at Barty Crouch Jr.
Flames engulfed the entire area.
Odom did not even have time to react before his body was swallowed by the blast.
"Father!"
The violent explosion hurled Barty Crouch Jr. away.
Through the flames, he saw the guilt in Barty Crouch Sr.'s eyes.
The terrifying explosion struck the castle in the sky once again.
A deafening rumble shook everything.
Barty Crouch Jr. rolled across the ground more than a dozen times, nearly losing consciousness.
He collapsed there and happened to look up at the sky, where more than a dozen objects trailed fire as they fell toward them.
Each one that struck would bring devastating destruction.
Without hesitation, suppressing his grief, Barty Crouch Jr. picked up the wand Barty Crouch Sr. had dropped and Disapparated.
Jing Zhang watched death draw near.
She forced herself to sit up and tidied her hair. "It was... a nice life—"
BOOM!!
Three consecutive strikes crashed into the castle in the sky, completely destroying it.
The rest fell amid the screams of the residents below, devastating the entire area.
It became a disaster recorded in the history of magic.
Everyone who survived that catastrophe would remember it.
That day, Muggle technology dealt a devastating blow to magic.
The magic they had always taken pride in had proven so fragile.
This disaster showed people how insignificant magic could be, how weak wizards were, and how powerful Muggles had become.
And the disaster was far from over.
...
On the eastern side of the Kingdom of Bhutan, a group of wizards and people dressed like Muggles stood in silence.
They simply watched the signals confirming the explosions.
A golden line tore through the void.
A passage opened immediately afterward.
John stepped through.
He was silent for a moment before asking, "Why?"
"Wizarding society is falling into decline," said an elderly man with glasses who looked like an old scholar. "We are trying to save it."
"Your salvation killed thousands of people."
Endless coldness filled John's eyes.
Even though he had obtained their location from the general and rushed here, he had still been one step too late.
The old scholar said, "They don't understand. They don't understand the danger Muggles pose. This was meant to sound an alarm."
His voice stopped abruptly.
White light shattered his body.
John did not lower his wand.
Instead, he looked at the others.
A young man stepped forward and said, "To make magic great again, respected Second King."
"The birth of heroes always comes with the existence of demons," the young man said. "They are two sides of the same coin. Only when there is evil can there be justice."
"Only then can a hero be born to lead everyone down the correct path."
John understood.
These people did not regret what they had done.
They were like martyrs, willing to die for their ideals.
John raised his wand.
White ripples spread outward.
Everyone died.
He opened another passage and travelled to the birthplace of magic.
Devastation filled his vision, while cries of pain echoed endlessly from beneath the ruins.
This was Grindelwald's ultimate goal, a performance that had deceived everyone.
John's expression was numb as he walked toward the castle in the sky.
People called out to him for help along the way, but he seemed not to hear them.
Step by step, he walked toward the ruined castle.
Then John saw him.
His partner.
Yes, it was him.
That body, almost completely charred.
John walked over numbly.
He had lost.
Completely and utterly.
He had carefully planned everything, intending to push Barty Crouch Sr. into that position.
But in the end, it had brought about a catastrophic failure.
He reached out and touched Barty Crouch Sr.'s hand.
The moment he did, fragments crumbled away.
"Looks like I'm not... enough after all."
John stared at Barty Crouch Sr.'s corpse, then slowly stood up.
Like a walking corpse, he made his way downward.
Death.
Crying.
Wailing.
Flames carried the stench of charred flesh, while groans echoed from beneath the ruins.
People wept for lost loved ones.
Others moaned in pain.
Everything was battering at the Second King's heart.
He had thought he had already experienced enough.
Killing Voldemort had been enough to place him at the top.
The brutal Battle of Hogwarts had been something he could take pride in surviving.
John's heart clenched.
He stumbled over something and looked down.
Half a body protruded from beneath the rubble.
The face belonged to Theodore.
Seeing a familiar face finally brought something other than numbness to John's expression.
He waved his hand, moving the debris crushing Theodore aside, then dragged him free and used healing magic to mend his injuries.
Theodore woke and saw John.
John set him down.
Light erupted from his body.
Then he flew into the sky.
Like a small sun, he drew the attention of everyone caught in the disaster.
John waved his wand.
A passage opened before him.
The Astral Divine Guards appeared.
One golden figure after another leapt down from the sky, transforming into Divine Guards as they landed.
Then John waved his wand again.
||Divine Guard Protection.||
Streams of silver light flew from his wand and fell to the ground.
Wherever he pointed, elemental Divine Guards rose from the earth one after another.
They moved the rubble aside and rescued the people trapped beneath it.
White light gathered at the tip of his wand and poured down from the sky.
Wherever the light touched, the injured were healed.
At that moment, John seemed like a god descending into the world.
His radiance fell upon every wizard.
A Ministry employee was healed by the white light. Looking at the scene, he silently raised his wand and cast a projection spell.
The images that had gone dark in Ministries around the world gradually lit up again.
Everyone who had been watching the aftermath of the attack saw it.
They saw the Second King casting down his light.
They saw the Second King saving the people.
With John's intervention, more than a thousand wizards were rescued from the ruins of death.
They all looked at the man who seemed almost divine.
Under everyone's gaze, John slowly descended.
He said nothing and simply walked past them in silence.
The wizards watched him.
John stopped and said calmly, "Go home. Take them with you."
No one objected.
The wizards found their families and friends. Looking at those who had died, tears silently ran down their faces.
Only from evil can justice be born.
And after disaster, a hero is born.
____
Number 666 brings devastation 😈
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