At this very moment, not only the British Ministry of Magic, but also the Ministries of Magic in the United States, Germany, France, and various other countries were in absolute uproar.
Just as the leaders of major muggle nations had dedicated telephones in their offices to contact one another, the Ministers for Magic across various countries had their own channels to stay in touch.
Through an alchemical product similar to Two-Way Mirrors, numerous Ministers could participate in a multi-person video conference simultaneously.
This could tentatively be called the "DingTalk Group" among Ministers.
Ten minutes prior, as soon as Fudge returned to his office, he immediately contacted the Ministers for Magic of other countries through this group.
Through the memory imagery Fudge had extracted and placed into the Pensieve, the Ministers for Magic from the other nations saw the arrogant and tyrannical manner of Grindelwald II during the Two-Way Mirror video call.
Because Fudge's attention had been primarily focused on Kyle at the time, he hadn't noticed that standing on the staff table in the Hogwarts Great Hall was an old man whose eyes were of the exact same colors as Kyle's.
Yet even so, every Ministry of Magic felt an unprecedented threat.
For just last night, upon receiving Fudge's message, they had immediately dispatched Aurors to Nurmengard Castle in Austria.
Unsurprisingly, the dilapidated tower that should have been holding the world's most dangerous criminal was already completely deserted.
This also meant that after vanishing for over forty years, Grindelwald had reappeared in the wizarding world once more.
Within the group chat formed by the numerous Ministers for Magic, differing opinions surfaced instantly.
Some clamored to launch an immediate, all-out storming of Hogwarts right this second to capture Kyle Grindelwald, while others suggested holding an International Confederation of Wizards meeting before discussing further steps.
An all-out attack on Hogwarts was impossible.
After all, Britain was Fudge's turf.
During the morning operation at Hogwarts, allowing one or two officials from other Ministries of Magic to participate along with a few escorting Aurors was already the utmost limit of Fudge's tolerance.
Now they wanted to march an army composed of hundreds or thousands of Aurors straight in?
Before Grindelwald and his Acolytes could even be wiped out, a war would break out among the Ministries of Magic themselves first.
Thus, it was simply unrealistic; everything had to wait until after the International Confederation of Wizards convened to be discussed further.
However, this didn't stop the Ministers from arguing among themselves first... or rather, having a discussion.
After all, a group chat with so many Ministers online could barely count as a scaled-down International Confederation of Wizards.
Right at this moment, someone suddenly burst into the video frame of Christ Bérnam, the French Minister for Magic.
It was his secretary.
"Sir! Something terrible has happened!"
It was unclear what the secretary whispered into the French Minister's ear, but judging by the sudden drastic change in his expression, the other Ministers could guess that something massive had occurred.
At this moment, Paris was already shrouded in darkness.
Countless black, translucent veils drifted through the sky, slowly descending upon the city and blanketing every single building.
Upon every single veil was a faintly glowing emblem—one that represented the French Ministry of Magic.
Those older wizards, upon seeing these black veils sweeping across the entire city, were struck silent with shock.
For back when Grindelwald ravaged Europe all those years ago, this was precisely how he had summoned his followers.
Christ walked out from the subterranean headquarters of the French Ministry of Magic.
With a single glance, he spotted the pair—one old, one young—blocking the main entrance of the Ministry.
The blond youth was unhurriedly lowering his wand, which had been pointed toward the sky, and Christ recognized that face.
Just a few months ago, he had seen this face in the newspapers covering the Order of Merlin award ceremony.
Who could have imagined that this young man—the youngest recipient of the Order of Merlin, Second Class, and hailed as the future star of the wizarding world—would actually be Gellert Grindelwald's son?
"Gellert Grindelwald?" Although Christ spoke with a tone of inquiry, the expression on his face was one of absolute certainty.
A considerable number of Aurors had already gathered beside him, yet this failed to bring him even an ounce of security.
As someone who had lived through the era of Grindelwald's reign, he knew all too well the horror of the wizard before him.
Back during the battle at Père Lachaise Cemetery, they had mobilized nearly a hundred Aurors.
Yet Grindelwald had merely cast a Protego Diabolica spell, leaving them completely helpless while inflicting devastating casualties upon their ranks.
In the end, it was Nicolas Flamel—already over six hundred years old—who led the surviving Aurors in casting Finite Incantatem to barely block the flames Grindelwald had unleashed.
Grindelwald gave a slight smile. "Correct answer, but no prize."
Hearing Grindelwald's response, the already panic-stricken Aurors looked even more terrified, cold sweat soaking through their clothes unawares.
It was hard to imagine that Grindelwald merely standing there would exert such immense psychological pressure on them.
Glancing at his trembling subordinates all around him, Christ gritted his teeth and stepped forward in front of Grindelwald.
"Just moments ago, I requested reinforcements from neighboring Ministries of Magic. Whatever you intend to do, please cease at once. I am well aware of your formidable power, but even you cannot face the combined strength of multiple nations alone, can you?"
"You've reminded me," Grindelwald tapped the palm of his hand with his wand. "It seems I ought to take a few precautionary measures."
A haze of disorientation crept into Christ's mind—a feeling he was extremely familiar with: the Anti-Disapparition Jinx.
His expression turned even more unsightly.
Not only was there the Anti-Disapparition Jinx, but as Grindelwald's words fell, a vast number—no, at least nearly a thousand wizards—surged out from all directions.
On each of their chests was pinned an emblem that no citizen of the European wizarding world would find unfamiliar: the Deathly Hallows symbol composed of a triangle, a circle, and a vertical line.
Christ swallowed with great difficulty. "Does Your Excellency intend to launch another war?"
"A war?" Grindelwald looked at the man before him with mild amusement. "I have no intention of launching a war."
So long as no one died, and they merely knocked everyone unconscious, it couldn't be called a war.
At most, it would be considered a severe provocation against the Ministry of Magic—nature-wise, equivalent to a rather serious brawl involving a crowd.
As for the fact that those being beaten were Ministry of Magic officials, punishable by imprisonment under normal circumstances... would Grindelwald care about that?
What a joke.
If the people from the Ministry had the guts to arrest him, they were welcome to try.
"Then..." Before he could get another syllable out, Grindelwald interrupted him.
"It is simply because someone wanted to arrest my son that I am forced to take a few measures—to kill the chicken to warn the monkeys."
Christ took a deep breath. "And we... are the chicken to be killed?"
"Precisely. Take action."
The latter half of Grindelwald's sentence was addressed to the group of Acolytes standing behind him.
In an instant, an overwhelming barrage of spells swallowed Christ and the crowd behind him.
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