In the end, Fudge slunk away dejectedly with his men, which did not surprise Kyle in the least.
After all, his two immense backers were watching right from the staff table behind him.
Under such circumstances, let alone Fudge bringing a mere score of Aurors—even if he had brought every single employee from the entire British Ministry of Magic over, it would still just be feeding themselves to the slaughter.
Calling for backup?
As if nobody else knew how to do that.
Back when he and Hermione were attacked that day, Grindelwald had said semi-jokingly that he would summon a few hundred more Acolytes over.
Yet Kyle knew that his old man was by no means joking.
The moment the black veil rose, a hundred thousand Acolytes would rush over through the night, each giving Fudge a resounding slap across the face.
Add to that the modifications Kyle had made to Hogwarts Castle alongside his three fellow "Father-Troublers"...
Let alone just the British Ministry of Magic—even if the Ministries of France, Germany, and the United States, the three most powerful in the wizarding world, were called in together, they wouldn't necessarily be able to drag Kyle out of Hogwarts.
Looking at the walls and ceiling scorched pitch-black by Fiendfyre, Dumbledore drew his wand.
Waving the Elder Wand, those charred marks shrank rapidly as if a rewind button had been pressed, until they vanished completely.
Having done all this, he let out a somewhat helpless sigh.
The person the Ministry of Magic wanted to take away was not only Grindelwald's son, but also his son.
Unwilling to engage in a direct confrontation with the Ministry of Magic, Dumbledore had not stepped in to stop the Ministry's people—and he hadn't needed to, as Grindelwald was right beside him.
Yet refraining from action did not mean fewer troubles.
When Kyle ignited his gas stove to defy the Aurors, Dumbledore similarly refrained from acting, which served as a clear statement of his stance.
Consequently, Hogwarts had effectively placed itself on the opposite side of the British Ministry of Magic.
No—not just Britain, but also those European nations that had once been scarred by Grindelwald.
At the thought of this, Dumbledore felt a massive headache coming on.
He glared at Grindelwald beside him.
If this fellow had jumped out early to help his own son resolve the issue, things would still be manageable.
Because in that case, the Ministry of Magic's attention would be entirely focused on this first-generation Dark Lord.
And even if someone noticed why Grindelwald had appeared at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Dumbledore could play dumb...
No—he could forcibly suppress it using his formidable, almost terrifying prestige in the wizarding world.
That way, regarding the matter of Kyle being Grindelwald's son, the Ministry of Magic would have its attention diverted by a far greater threat.
For what threat could be greater than Gellert Grindelwald, the first-generation Dark Lord, reappearing in the world?
The son of Grindelwald?
So long as Kyle stayed inside Hogwarts peacefully under Dumbledore's supervision, no one would make a move against him, at least until he graduated.
And once Kyle graduated, as the Little Dark Lord inheriting the talents of both Grindelwald and Dumbledore, with his rate of growth, hardly anyone in the wizarding world by then would be his match—save for a few pinnacle-level wizards.
Furthermore, with the Acolytes under Grindelwald rallying around their young master, Dumbledore basically wouldn't have to worry at all.
Yet in the end, Grindelwald, who had initially intended to act, realized Kyle could handle it himself and began playing deaf and mute, acting like a nobody.
Now look at the mess: with Kyle putting on such a spectacle, not only the Ministry of Magic, but even the eyes of the International Confederation of Wizards were going to focus squarely on Kyle.
What infuriated Dumbledore even more was that even now, Grindelwald was still sitting on the sidelines watching the show with relish, like an onlooker enjoying gossip.
Seeing Grindelwald casually twirling the wand in his hand, Dumbledore's anger flared uncontrollably.
"Gellert! You ought to realize the severity of this matter!"
Before Dumbledore could unleash a tirade of scolding upon him, Grindelwald raised a hand, interrupting Dumbledore's words. "I will take responsibility for solving it—and I will solve it very thoroughly."
Dumbledore's expression shifted. Solve it very thoroughly?
Thoroughly???
A white barrier of light materialized, blocking the contents of their conversation from leaking out.
"You're not planning to start a war, are you?" Dumbledore looked at his old lover with a grave expression.
"A war?" Grindelwald let out a soft scoff. "Rest assured, there will be no war."
Pausing, the old Dark Lord added, "I merely intend to take a casual walk outside. If they know what's good for them, no one will die."
Dumbledore opened his mouth, but at the thought that this concerned Kyle, he Ultimately said nothing in the end.
With a casual wave of his hand, the barrier of light melted rapidly like ice beneath the sun. The old Dark Lord stepped down from the staff table at an unhurried pace, walking straight over to the Little Dark Lord, who was currently surrounded by a crowd of students.
"Care to go for a walk outside with me?"
Kyle's eyes lit up. Was his old man planning to go cause trouble at the Ministry of Magic?
Given his understanding of the old Dark Lord's personality, besides going to the British Ministry of Magic to find trouble with Cornelius Fudge, what else could Grindelwald be planning?
At this moment, the students gathered around Kyle saw the old man and suddenly realized the problem.
Gellert Dumbledore...
What in the bloody hell, Dumbledore!
The students swore in unison in their hearts. This man was clearly the legendary Gellert Grindelwald written about in the Daily Prophet—Kyle's biological father!
Dumbledore had actually brought this first-generation Dark Lord into the school, and under his own surname, no less.
This was truly criminal.
Some gossip-minded students were already casting inquisitive glances back and forth between Dumbledore and Grindelwald, spinning one story after another in their minds.
Paying no mind to his companions around him, the corners of Kyle's mouth curved upward. He extended a hand toward his old man with an explicit intent.
The next second, the two transformed into two wisps of black smoke, flying out through the main doors of Hogwarts Castle.
Once clear of the range of Hogwarts' Anti-Disapparition Jinx, accompanied by the faint crack of Disapparition, their figures vanished directly into thin air.
Watching the troublemaking father and son vanish into the distance, Dumbledore massaged his temples vigorously, letting out another weary sigh.
Originally, he had thought Kyle wouldn't reclaim his original surname until he graduated from Hogwarts.
The exposure of Kyle's parentage had come four years earlier than he had anticipated.
Looking at how things stood now, the wizarding world likely wouldn't know peace for quite some time.
Two figures appeared in Place Furstenberg in France.
Seeing this familiar location, Kyle froze for a moment. He hadn't expected Grindelwald to bring him here.
Originally, he had assumed the place Grindelwald wanted to take him to would be the British Ministry of Magic.
Yet thinking carefully, it was actually quite normal.
Back then, the global wizarding war ignited by Grindelwald had affected countless countries, yet due to a certain white-bearded old man, he had never touched Great Britain.
Continental Europe was Grindelwald's true stronghold.
"You first, or me?" Grindelwald glanced at his eager, mischievous son.
Hearing Grindelwald's words, Kyle grinned wide, an abundance of excitement gleaming in his eyes.
Ever since he mastered that spell, he had been itching to try it out for a long time. "I'll do it. You save your strength, Father."
Gazing up at the sky, Kyle slowly raised the wand in his hand.
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