...

Nurmengard

The moment the Auror's body hit the ground, shock rippled through the crowd.

Panic spread among the Aurors, and the Auror Director's face twisted in fear. He couldn't let Dyroth continue speaking, dreading the impact of his words on the morale of his men.

His spell was like a signal.

Several streaks of green light shot from all directions across the square, all aimed at Dyroth.

Yet, Dyroth remained unfazed, a confident smile playing on his lips. The two powerful wizards beside him, Vinda Rosier and Abernethy, were more than capable of handling such attacks.

The moment the green lights appeared, Dyroth's defenders conjured thick stone walls, which absorbed and shattered the Killing Curses effortlessly.

Before the Saints could react, a faction of young Aurors turned against their superiors, disarming and binding them with swift, decisive spells.

"Expelliarmus!"

"Petrificus Totalus!"

"Stupefy!"

Within seconds, the rebellious Aurors were subdued, their wands taken and their movements restricted.

Vinda Rosier, wand raised and green light flickering at its tip, prepared to deliver a fatal blow. But Dyroth intervened.

"Wait, Aunt Vinda!"

He gently pushed her wand aside and approached the captured Auror, who glared at him with seething anger.

"Isn't it enough that you've killed so many of our comrades over the years? Why must you slaughter us all?" Dyroth's voice was calm, almost sorrowful.

"My father is imprisoned, and now you won't even spare an eleven-year-old child!" Dyroth continued, his tone steady.

"Bah! Just like your father, you're a devil, spreading lies and corrupting hearts! You'll be the root of the wizarding world's destruction!" The Auror's voice was filled with venom.

Dyroth didn't show any signs of anger. Instead, his expression softened, a flicker of blue light gleaming in his eyes.

"We've never been enemies. We share the same identity, the same goal."

"What we should be doing is—"

"Avada Kedavra!"

The Auror Director, having hidden a wand, launched a surprise attack as Dyroth neared.

"Dyroth!" Vinda Rosier's face contorted with panic as she rushed toward him.

But Dyroth's lips curled into a knowing smile, as if he had anticipated the move. He sidestepped the curse effortlessly.

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"Sir, you seem to have forgotten that while my ability to foresee isn't quite on my father's level, I'm still quite adept."

Dyroth twirled his wand gracefully and danced across the battlefield.

"Protego Diabolica!"

Blue flames erupted around him, encircling the square. Though not as grand as Grindelwald's legendary spell, it was impressive enough to captivate the Saints.

Even Vinda Rosier, who had watched Dyroth's growth, couldn't hide her admiration.

"Protego Diabolica... incredible," Abernethy whispered in awe behind Dyroth.

Dyroth chuckled, then turned to address the Saints.

"Everyone, the moment has arrived. Cross these flames and shatter the illusions of those who are still asleep!"

"Go, fight for the Greater Good!"

"Go, and declare to the wizarding world that the Saints have returned!"

Vinda Rosier smiled at Dyroth, her confidence evident as she strode into the flames. Abernethy followed, his eyes alight with fervor.

"For the Greater Good!" he shouted.

One by one, the Saints stepped into the flames before Apparating away.

As the last of the Saints vanished, Dyroth heard a notification in his mind:

[Congratulations to the host for taking control of the Saints Group and obtaining the achievement: Successor of the Dark Lord]

[Achievement point reward: 500]

"500 points... enough for five consecutive draws!" Dyroth thought. "I'll find a quiet place later to decide how best to use them."

With everyone gone, only Dyroth, Vinda, and Abernethy remained. Vinda gestured toward the captured Aurors at her feet.

"What should we do with these Aurors?"

Without looking at them, Dyroth waved his wand.

The blue flames surged forth, engulfing the Aurors instantly.

"Aurors? What Aurors?"

...

Inside Nurmengard Tower...

An old man with white hair and unusual eyes observed Dyroth with keen interest.

"Well done, little one."

"What's your next move? Do you plan to take down the Austrian Ministry of Magic?"

With Dyroth as his adopted son, Grindelwald seemed far more lively than the depressed figure from the original timeline. Though confined within Nurmengard, his life was relatively comfortable, his only restriction being his inability to leave.

Dyroth was taken aback by Grindelwald's suggestion.

"I'm not ready to throw my life away just yet! Taking over the Ministry of Magic now would be akin to declaring war."

"If it weren't for your old agreement, I wouldn't have made such a move. The smartest choice would have been to stay hidden until I've grown up fully."

Grindelwald spread his hands in helplessness. "I never expected you to pass the test set by those old fools."

"How about I send you to Durmstrang to lay low for a few years?"

"Forget it. I'd rather stay here in Nurmengard. At least here, the Ministry won't dare make a move." Dyroth shook his head.

"And as for what I'll do next... you already know."

"You plan to head to England?" Grindelwald guessed after a moment's contemplation.

"The German and Austrian Ministries of Magic have increased their surveillance on us. After today, they'll target the Saints even harder."

"Instead of battling a losing fight here, it's wiser to seek a new path in Britain."

"And..." Dyroth's lips curled into a sly smirk. "I might even drop by Hogwarts and give your frustrations a proper outlet."

"Imagine the students Dumbledore has so meticulously nurtured, one by one joining the Saints. Years of his effort, only to make our cause stronger..." Dyroth's voice dripped with temptation, and Grindelwald's eyes gleamed with amusement.

From the moment Dyroth acquired the system, he had decided to attend Hogwarts—not just for the development of the Saints, but also for the system's achievement rewards.

Between Durmstrang, Beauxbatons, and Hogwarts, the latter held the key to so many opportunities. It was the location of Harry Potter, the protagonist, and the beginning of everything. The potential for achievement points there was beyond comparison.

Though Dyroth had great talent, he wasn't about to miss out on the system's bonuses.

"But you haven't received a Hogwarts acceptance letter," Grindelwald teased, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

Dyroth wasn't fooled. He knew that the orphanage he had grown up in was in England, and today was his birthday. Hogwarts would definitely send a letter, carried by a large owl.

The only reason it hadn't arrived by now was clear...

It had been hidden by the old man in front of him!

Dyroth's suspicious gaze fell on Grindelwald, who grumbled and waved his hand. An owl emerged from behind him, flying over to Dyroth with a letter clutched in its beak.

"you even doubts me, your own father," Grindelwald muttered, "You're becoming quite unlovable, little Dyroth."

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