1945. Europe. The Alps.
Sparse raindrops drifted down from the thin dark clouds in the night sky, striking the ceaselessly flowing river and splashing up tiny ripples.
A full moon poked its head out from behind the scattered rain clouds, draping a layer of pure white silver frost over the valley.
The surging river relentlessly washed against the banks on both sides. A man stood steadily by the riverbank; moonlight spilled onto his face, tracing the contours of his features in varying shades of light and shadow.
Although he appeared somewhat weathered due to his age, he still retained a measure of the handsomeness from his youth.
Because of the preceding battle, his body was covered in all manner of wounds. Even his originally magnificent wizarding robes had lost a sleeve. At this moment, he was panting heavily for breath.
Opposite him, a man of similar age was likewise panting loudly. Under the dim moonlight, his head of golden hair still shone as bright as sunlight, and his mismatched eyes gleamed with an eerie light.
Both men were in an equally wretched state.
The gazes of Dumbledore and Grindelwald interlaced in mid-air, engaging in a fierce, silent confrontation. A moment later, both men raised the wands in their hands toward each other in unison.
They both knew that this would be the final strike to determine the victor.
Two beams of light—one red, one blue—shot out like lightning from the tips of their wands. At the moment of collision, a spherical, transparent shockwave burst forth from the intersection of the two beams, and the kicked-up dust instantly obscured the entire valley.
By the time this earth-shattering impact had passed, the valley where the two stood had completely changed its appearance.
The surrounding mountain walls were full of shocking cracks; the crags were teetering on the verge of collapse, with rubble constantly rolling down from above.
Grindelwald, having lost all strength, plunged headfirst into the river before him. Carried by the current, his body was slowly drifting toward the broken cliff at the end of the river.
An arm grabbed Grindelwald just as he was about to fall off the cliff.
Dumbledore struggled to drag Grindelwald from the water's surface onto the riverbank beside them. For Dumbledore, who had just experienced a battle that shook the world, Grindelwald's body was inevitably a bit too heavy.
He exhausted all his strength to move his old rival, Grindelwald, onto the temporarily safe riverbank.
The defeated Grindelwald lay on the ground, his expression complex. All sorts of past events flashed through his mind, but in the end, the myriad thoughts turned into a hearty laugh: "You won again, Albus."
"It ends here, Gellert."
Physically and mentally exhausted, Dumbledore leaned against the mountain rock and slowly sat down beside Grindelwald. "We are best friends. I do not want to kill you, but this war must end. If it continues, it will only endanger the future of the wizarding world."
"I will spend the rest of my life in Nurmengard," Grindelwald said lightly.
"Gell..."
"However, before that, one last thing..." Grindelwald reached his somewhat trembling hand into his clothes and took out a small card with an arrow drawn on it from his bosom.
Dumbledore looked at the wayfinding card Grindelwald had placed in his hand with some confusion, not understanding its meaning.
Where did Grindelwald want him to go?
"This card records the address of a safe house. Our son is there." A mischievous smile hung on Grindelwald's face. "Congratulations, you're going to be a mother."
At such a solemn moment, Grindelwald rarely displayed his dark humor.
Dumbledore stared at the card in his hand, his face darkening. What the hell do you mean, 'going to be a mother'?
Seeing that Dumbledore was about to blow his top, Grindelwald restrained the smile on his face. "Alright, his mother is someone else, but his body flows with a portion of your bloodline. That is the absolute truth."
Grindelwald patted Dumbledore on the shoulder. "I'll leave his care to you from now on."
Dumbledore took a deep breath, trying hard to suppress the urge to give Grindelwald an Avada Kedavra with the Elder Wand. He didn't want his child to lose a father at such a young age.
Then, Dumbledore slowly nodded. "I will take care of him. What do you intend to name him?"
"Kyle. Kyle Grindelwald." After giving the name, the exhausted Grindelwald lay quietly on the ground, closed his eyes, and spoke no more.
This wizarding war, provoked by the one known as the "Dark Lord" Grindelwald, which had swept across the entire European continent, finally came to a close with Albus Dumbledore's defeat of Gellert Grindelwald.
This valley where the two fought their decisive battle was also called by later generations—The Valley of the End.
Defeated at the hands of Dumbledore in the Valley of the End, Grindelwald imprisoned himself in Nurmengard Castle from then on.
One year later. Devon, England. A remote manor.
"Nicolas, regarding Kyle... is there really no way at all?"
In the manor's resplendent living room, Dumbledore, with a look of slight sorrow on his face, looked at the white-haired, white-bearded old man before him with pleading eyes and could not help but ask once more.
The old man addressed as Nicolas took off the black-rimmed reading glasses on his face. "Dumbledore, you know that this child was catalyzed by magic. His body has not given birth to a complete soul to this day."
"When Rosier gave birth to him, he failed to develop a soul. This already indicates..."
Nicolas Flamel shook his head. Having said this much, his meaning was clear enough; there was no need to continue.
Dumbledore understood his meaning, but he still would not give up.
"What if we use the Philosopher's Stone?"
Hearing Dumbledore's words, Nicolas Flamel's voice was low:
"Even the Philosopher's Stone is not omnipotent. After all, this involves the most profound level of the soul. To this day, we cannot completely understand the mysteries of the soul."
"Even the one most proficient in the Dark Arts..."
Nicolas Flamel's words suddenly paused, trying hard to avoid mentioning Grindelwald's name in front of Dumbledore.
"He was also helpless regarding Kyle's condition."
Dumbledore lowered his eyes, a trace of disappointment appearing on his face, but this disappointment was soon covered by a layer of hopeful light.
"Then what about the Resurrection Stone?"
Nicolas Flamel leaned his body forward. "Dumbledore, you and I both know the legend of the Deathly Hallows. The Resurrection Stone can only summon the souls of the deceased, not bring new life to a body..."
Dumbledore could not help but sigh, then sank his body completely into the soft sofa.
Could it be that he could not fulfill even his final promise to Grindelwald?
"I understand." When hope was shattered once again, Dumbledore's voice inevitably carried a hint of dejection.
Even the tremendous heat radiating constantly from the roaring fireplace could hardly dispel the chill in his heart.
His last hope was shattered.
Dumbledore suddenly looked as if he had aged ten years. Those azure eyes, which originally sparkled with cerulean light, also lost their brilliance of days past, appearing dim and despondent.
~~~~~
["The Valley of the End" is a reference to the location of the final battle between Naruto and Sasuke in the Naruto universe.]
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