In that instant, images flashed through Vid's mind—
The small Atlantic island where countless evils were buried, the obscurus that covered the sky, Hayley and Mabel relying on each other for life, and various bases engulfed by Grindelwald's flames.
Candlelight danced in Grindelwald's pupils.
"We've been tracking these thieves for a long time. But they are like goblins, no matter how many nests you destroy, new ones always appear unexpectedly."
"Prometheus... an expansive organization secretly led by Muggles' top elites, magnates, and high-ranking government officials. Its ultimate goal isn't to hunt wizards but to dissect, analyze, and plunder, aiming to seize this power for themselves."
"This plan began even before the witch hunts!"
Vid listened quietly, his fingers unconsciously rubbing the coarse wood grain of the bench.
Everything seen on that island remains deeply etched in Vid's mind, and he doesn't shy away from assuming the worst about those people.
At the same time, Vid could hear the faint chill and sense of defeat in Grindelwald's tone.
—because in such organizations, there may not be real leaders or cadres; they are not mere gangs that can be completely dismantled by eliminating a few key figures.
As long as the desires of humans remain intact and there is an undeniable gap between wizards and Muggles, "Prometheus" will never disappear.
Even if the current deeply rooted organization is eradicated, new "fire thieves" will continually emerge.
No matter how strong the Witch Pure Party is, they can't possibly kill all Muggles.
Grindelwald paused, then said: "We can confirm that Prometheus's largest faction is in the United States. Their arms might be embedded in every corner of Muggle society—banks, convenience stores, the military, schools, hospitals! Every place!"
"Their methods are filthier than New York's sewers, involving kidnapping, murder, instigating wars, human experimentation... there's nothing they wouldn't dare do to achieve their goals!"
"So Vid, even with a perfect identity, never be careless... don't overlook the more dangerous enemies lurking in the shadows while dealing with the Scourers!"
"I will be careful."
There was no surprise on Vid's face; he only said softly: "I'd rather those guys reveal themselves sooner."
"The more one has, the more afraid they are of dying. So no matter how greedy a beast is, when faced with a sufficiently frightening threat, it knows to retract its claws."
Grindelwald's eyes narrowed slightly, and a faint curve appeared at the corners of his lips: "Sounds like... you're ready to kill?"
Vid looked at him, without avoiding the old man's gaze, only saying: "If necessary."
The calm tone expressed more power and determination than shouting.
"Oh?" Grindelwald leaned forward as if to see the deepest thoughts within Vid's heart: "Aren't you worried about damaging your soul? Dumbledore cares a lot about that."
"But Professor Dumbledore also once said," Vid replied: "Sending demons wandering in the human world to hell doesn't harm his soul."
He paused, gazing at the orange candlelight, carefully selecting his words:
"Maybe he was just comforting me because he often worried... that I might confuse 'killing for protection' with wanton killings of the innocent..."
Grindelwald's face froze, but Vid, lost in his thoughts, didn't notice.
"But..." Vid said softly: "I can't always throw all troubles onto Professor Dumbledore and let him endure all storms."
"He taught me to cherish life, to do the right thing... so when others casually slaughter, I see more clearly what to choose—"
"It's not standing on a moral high ground to criticize those who act, nor is it to watch from the sidelines just to keep one's hands spotless… if I must step into the mud to remove the root of disaster, then I won't begrudge a pair of boots."
Unconsciously, a genuine smile appeared on Grindelwald's face.
He chuckled quietly, the laughter containing an unhideable satisfaction... even pride.
"Well said… but if Dumbledore heard your words, he might want to send me back to Nimongard!"
Vid's solemnity instantly turned to helplessness, then he laughed softly too.
"Since you are enlightened, don't hold back when meeting the enemy!" Grindelwald warned: "For some, tolerance and mercy are meaningless, and will only encourage them to act even more recklessly!"
"Yes." Vid replied.
"Delaine will stay here to fully assist you," Grindelwald said: "All resources you need—people, information, or some unconventional methods can be mobilized through him."
"To what extent can I go?" Vid asked.
Grindelwald chuckled: "Oh... as long as you don't exceed what I was back then… I can back you up for anything."
Vid was instantly speechless.
Back then, Grindelwald nearly spread the flames of war throughout the entire Magic World; surpassing him might mean sparking a Third World War.
However, this is also Grindelwald's faith in his old friend—
Dumbledore has carefully taught his students, ensuring their bottom line far higher than his own in the past. Even letting Vid venture and stir things up, he is confident it won't result in an unmanageable spectacle.
Grindelwald gently waved his hand, saying: "Go ahead, Delaine is in the back garden."
Vid spoke no more, promptly stood up, nodded slightly, and then turned towards the small side door.
As he was about to walk out, Vid reflexively glanced back.
Grindelwald sat alone on the bench, his thin figure appearing exceptionally lonely in the vast church. He slightly tilted his head, eyes seeming to penetrate the thick dome of the church, gazing at somewhere unreachable.
Then, Vid withdrew his gaze, gently closed the wooden door, the sound of footsteps echoed in the empty corridor, merging with the crackling sound of the rainstorm outside.
The church's rear garden was more desolate, overgrown with weeds. Vid saw Delaine and Antoine holding umbrellas, standing in the pouring rain.
Both had removed their jackets, rolled up their sleeves, their pants stained with patches of mud, their expressions unusually somber.
And before them, a freshly dug deep pit, emanating the stench of soil and an inexplicable rotten odor.
Vid walked over, his gaze crossing past them, seeing the things in the pit—
The bottom of the pit was filled with pale, densely packed bones, rain washing away the mud, revealing old scars that even time couldn't erase.