"As long as public opinion starts to ferment, the United Kingdom will have to respond, and Vid Gray will inevitably have to make a public appearance in the United States."
Bloren instructed, "Serra, it will be your turn then."
Abigail raised her eyes and looked at him calmly, her gaze as loyal and pure as ever.
"You need to contact him as a teacher, express that you want to protect his safety, verify his true stance, and find out how much weight he and Dumbledore have invested in this matter!" Bloren said.
Abigail nodded and said, "I only have one question—at such a critical time, will Vid Gray trust me if I contact him? What should I do if he doubts my identity?"
"Don't worry, he won't suspect you." Bloren confidently smiled and said, "During your time teaching at Hogwarts, you had a close relationship with those students and fought dementors together. He will trust you."
—Feelings strong enough to change one's Guardian God wouldn't easily fade away, would they?
He kept this thought to himself without speaking it aloud.
Abigail's eyes flashed with confusion, but she didn't ask more, just nodded again, silently accepting the task.
"Rolando, I want to spread another perspective—"
Bloren continued, "That video is actually a plot by the Witch Pure Party!"
"They disguised themselves as the long-gone Scourers and staged this blatant provocation to create chaos and infiltrate the Magic Congress—the worse the consequences sound, the better, understand?"
Stern breathed a sigh of relief: "That's easy. People will definitely be more inclined to believe it's the Witch Pure Party's scheme than the deeds of a fifteen-year-old student. But... what if the Witch Pure Party hears about it and really comes to the United States..."
Bloren laughed and said, "That's something Hosone will have to worry about, isn't it?"
Stern, recalling Grindelwald's methods from decades ago, felt uneasy, but he knew he couldn't always be a wet blanket to his superior, so he hesitantly nodded.
Bloren added, "Also, the method you previously mentioned—abandon a few bases with suspicious loyalty and marginally aligned ideals—implement it, let the Aurors achieve some success."
He chuckled softly and said, "We have to give Congress a little sweetness to make it easier to lead them along our drawn line..."
"When the Magic Congress, Dumbledore, Witch Pure Party, and those secretly undermining us begin to suspect each other and wear each other down, that's when we deliver the fatal blow!"
"Fatal blow?" The man in the raven mask spoke coldly, "Forgive me for being blunt, Mr. Bloren. Even if those parties exhaust most of their strength, the remaining is not something we can withstand."
Bloren, hearing this, wasn't offended but merely smiled slightly and said, "Indeed... but my friend, do you know what the 'Prometheus' project is?"
The man in the raven mask was silent for a moment and said, "I guess you aren't talking about the god who brought the flame to the human world?"
..........
"Crash——"
The rain poured down in torrents.
The heavy clouds seemed to press down from above, burdened and thick, as the rain curtain swallowed all the lights of the city, and all that could be seen were the raindrops crazily pounding down.
Occasionally, a streak of pale lightning tore through the darkness, illuminating the not-so-tall church at the end of the street. The stained glass designs on the windows were projected onto the walls in the lightning, solemn and sacred images now tinged with a cold aura.
In the rain curtain, a long creak suddenly sounded, "Sque—ak—".
Vid, holding a black umbrella, pushed open the heavy oak door, and the sound of wind and rain instantly amplified, then was mostly shut off when he turned to close the door.
Antoine walked up quickly, took the umbrella from Vid's hand, and frowned at his completely soaked clothes and pant legs, frowning as he said,
"Vid, did you wade through water to get here?"
Vid looked down at himself and said casually, "Just got caught in a bit of rain."
As he spoke, he drew his magic wand, cast a Warm Wind Spell on himself, and soon felt warm all over while his clothes quickly dried.
"Why not use the Wind Defense Spell?" Antoine asked.
"Getting rained on occasionally helps clear the mind."
Vid said, casting his gaze forward.
The inside of the church was even gloomier than outside, with only a few flickering candles lighting up a small area. A figure sat on the front bench, silver hair gilded with a warm hue by the candlelight.
"Go on." Antoine patted Vid's shoulder and said softly, "The gentleman has been waiting for you for half an hour."
Vid paused for a moment, then walked over.
"Long time no see, Mr. Grindelwald."
Grindelwald didn't turn around. He looked at the vague shadow on the cross and said,
"Look, Vid, how many gods have Muggles created for themselves? They have mounted this poor fellow on the cross, offering him up, placing all fortune and misfortune on intangible wills, yet they aren't even willing to release him from the cross."
Vid sat on the bench beside him, relaxedly looking at the statue and said,
"When humans can't understand the world using their knowledge, they naturally create beings surpassing themselves to explain everything."
"But what I can't understand is, those venerated as gods often suffered great injustices in life and died tragically—as if that somehow brings some sort of solace and hope."
"But... shouldn't gods be omniscient and omnipotent?"
He raised an eyebrow, a trace of disdain flashing in his eyes.
Grindelwald laughed and said, "Even if gods exist in this world, they can't truly be omniscient and omnipotent."
He looked at the young man and asked, "Vid, what do you believe in? Jesus, Merlin, or God?"
Vid also turned, looking at the old man, and said, "I'm an atheist. If I must believe in something... then I believe in myself."
"Haha..." Grindelwald laughed out loud, "Very good."
He looked at the cross and said, "When I was your age, I believed gods existed, but I also had no faith—and I thought most worshippers were hypocritical."
With a sigh-like emphasis, he said, "You see, they create gods, then place themselves in the position of servants, worshipping, offering, willingly being deprived."
"But when the day comes that they are no longer satisfied with merely worshipping or fearing, they will intrude into the divine realm, stealing the 'heavenly fire' that doesn't belong to them!"
Sensing the latent resentment and hatred in his tone, Vid vaguely understood, "Prometheus?"
"Yes, Prometheus." Grindelwald's face wore a mocking smile, "The ones who dared to steal fire, using the name of a god to call their plan."