stonecrandall Chapter 299, Section 298: Intricately Linked, Death's Trick
Chapter 299, Section 298: Intricately Linked, Death's Trick
Chapter 299, Section 298: Intricately Linked, Death's Trick
The fervent words fell.
The scene seemed distorted to a specific moment. That day appeared to have been pushed back a while; the night was dark, the sky inky black, dark clouds looming overhead, and the air thick with the dampness and death. Inside the Dumbledore family's cottage, candlelight flickered, and Ariana's scream ripped through the silence of the night.
"Another problem has arisen!"
Albus Dumbledore bursts into his sister's room.
"I should still agree to the deal. We really can't find any other way. Ariana, don't be stubborn. This is all for you and for our family."
Young Dumbledore saw his sister's body suspended in mid-air, surrounded by turbulent magical currents. Furniture shattered and walls cracked under the influence of an unseen force.
"She's dying... We've tried everything... The magic within her is too unstable, tearing her soul apart like a storm."
Aberforth was thrown to the ground, blood streaming from his forehead.
"I refuse to accept this ending! I won't watch her die!" Young Dumbledore refused to accept it. Just then, a dark shadow slowly emerged from the corner, as if walking out of the void. It had no face, only two bottomless eye sockets, and its voice was deep and cold.
"She won't make it through the night."
His hoarse voice carried an icy chill.
Albus whirled around, his wand pointing directly at the newcomer—a tall, thin figure draped in a tattered black robe, his face hidden beneath the hood, only a swirling darkness, like the abyss itself.
"grim Reaper……"
Albus's voice was tense with fear.
"Yes, you can call me Death." The shadowy figure chuckled, his voice like the wails of countless dead souls. "You knew the way, you knew I could save her."
"It's just that the price is very high."
The Grim Reaper, manifested in the illusion, spoke in a low voice.
Dumbledore's expression was conflicted.
"A million souls, I know, I've found the way, but Ariana, she..." Clearly, this conversation also reveals a message.
Ariana had previously refused Dumbledore's offer of a million souls for one life—a scene that brought tears to the eyes of the senile, elderly Dumbledore.
In his heart.
This was indeed Ariana's choice.
"Don't worry about what she thinks. What she thinks has nothing to do with your choice. You should know that if she's gone, her opinion will be meaningless as well."
"I'm here, ready to take her life at any moment."
Death spoke frankly.
The young Dumbledore looked utterly desperate.
"Please, don't make me see this anymore." The elderly Dumbledore knelt amidst the scenes presented by the bronze figures, his heart already shaken by these illusions time and time again.
The elderly Dumbledore looked at his younger self, at the scene of sacrifice, surrounded by silence, with no one to comfort him, just like in the original timeline, at the moment he was forced to drink the potion, without Harry Potter to offer him the antidote—and he had already realized what if he had encountered such a moment back then.
How will the scales tip?
as predicted.
"A million souls?"
The young Dumbledore gritted his teeth, his eyes gleaming.
"Yes," Death replied, "You can obtain her by any means—war, plague, magic—as long as you fulfill the contract, she can live on indefinitely."
The room fell into a deathly silence.
Aberforth looked at his brother in horror: "Aberforth, are you listening? He said he wants a million souls! That means the destruction of so many families!"
obviously.
Aberforth still had some sense.
however.
The young Albus Dumbledore's gaze had changed, from sorrow to determination, and then to ruthlessness.
Albus's pupils suddenly contracted.
"Deal," he said without hesitation.
In an instant, Death reached out and touched Ariana's forehead with his fingertips. Her body jolted violently, then returned to calm, her breathing became steady, and a long-lost color returned to her face.
"She will live," Death whispered, "but your soul will no longer belong to you."
The shadowy figure disappeared.
What remains is the empty gaze of young Albus.
"This is definitely not a wise choice." The elderly Dumbledore muttered to himself as he looked at the illusory yet real scene, but he knew that if it were his younger self, he might have really made the same choice.
after all.
This was an interest that was far more important to him than the souls of a million people.
Illusions are not scary.
What's frightening is that it presents another kind of reality.
……
The scenarios are constantly changing.
Ten years have passed.
Dumbledore saw Ariana's life after she recovered her health.
She learned simple spells, and a happy smile graced her face. But Dumbledore knew that behind that smile lay a deep, unspeakable pain within him.
"Brother, I'm so happy, thank you for saving me." Ariana threw herself into his arms in the dream, her voice clear and melodious.
"Ariana, as long as you are healthy and happy, that's all that matters." The young Dumbledore gently stroked her head, but his eyes were filled with guilt.
at this time.
Albus Dumbledore has become Hogwarts' youngest Charms professor, a man of exceptional talent and charm, beloved by his students. But within him lies no light, only a path leading to the abyss. At night, alone in his office, he studies ancient, forbidden magic, seeking a more efficient way to harvest souls.
"You know the time has come."
The voice of Death rang in his ears.
"I know," Albus replied coldly, "but I need more time."
"You have delayed far too long," Death warned, its form visible only to Dumbledore. "You still have 999,000 souls."
"I will do it." Dumbledore looked up, his eyes cold, unlike any wizard he was known for in reality. "I promise you."
The Grim Reaper reflected in the pupils disappeared with satisfaction.
Meanwhile, his friend, Gellert Grindelwald, is stirring up a revolution in Europe.
He advocated for wizards to rule Muggles and establish a new world dominated by magic. Initially, Albus supported him and even provided him with theoretical support.
But during a late-night conversation, Grindelwald finally noticed Albus's change.
"You've changed," Grindelwald frowned. "You used to talk about love, freedom, and peace, but now you speak...like a judge."
Albus was silent for a moment, then chuckled softly: "Perhaps I have indeed changed."
"What exactly did you do?" Grindelwald pressed.
"It's nothing," Albus said, getting up and walking to the window. "I just did some necessary things."
Grindelwald stared at him for a long time, then finally shook his head and sighed: "I once thought we would change the world together, but now... I'm starting to doubt whether you're still worthy of that ideal."
Their friendship was completely shattered at that moment.
……
Time continued to pass.
Thirty-three-year-old Dumbledore stood at the edge of the trench, gazing at the distant, smoke-filled battlefield. His black robes fluttered in the wind, and the highest honor medal of the International Federation of Wizarding Sorcerers was pinned to his chest.
How much do you need today?
"Dumbledore asked softly."
He no longer asks himself how much he still owes.
It seems they've already adapted to this kind of life.
"Five thousand." Death's voice whispered in his ear, "The war of Muggles is the perfect time for reaping."
Albus raised the Elder Wand and uttered a spell never before recorded in any magic book—"Soul Transference." This was a portion of the power granted to him by Death.
Yes.
Because of long-term loyalty.
Dumbledore received a gift from Death.
At least.
In his view, it was a gift.
Accompanied by the use of magic.
In an instant.
On the battlefield, all the dying soldiers froze simultaneously, their souls being pulled from their bodies by invisible chains, turning into ghostly blue specks of light that converged into a rushing river of souls.
They frantically poured into Albus's silver coins.
"elder brother?"
A crisp sound came from behind. Albus quickly put away the silver coins, turned around, and revealed a gentle smile.
Ariana stood behind him, a graceful seventeen-year-old with long, golden hair that fluttered in the wind. Her magic was already stable, making her the youngest healer in the Ministry of Magic.
"It's time to go home."
Albus said softly, taking her hand in his.
Ariana smiled and nodded, completely unaware of the five thousand soldiers who had suddenly died on the distant battlefield—clearly, Ariana, who had been healed by Death, was also severely affected.
only.
Dumbledore was unaware of this in the scene.
Is it that you don't want to?
Or are you unwilling?
"Alright! That's enough!" The elderly Dumbledore saw something he absolutely did not want to see, but his rebuke did not affect the operation of the Bronze Gate.
The operation of this door felt like it was slowly tearing his heart apart.
……
This is yet another new scene change.
Grindelwald stood atop the tower, his flowing hair whipping in the wind, his eyes burning with fury. He stared at his old friend, his voice filled with rage.
"Albus! Are you insane?" he roared. "You're slaughtering innocent people! Not just Muggles, but wizards too! What the hell do you want?!"
In this scene.
It seems that Grindelwald has become the side of justice – when good people completely fall into depravity, then perhaps the original bad people can also become the saviors.
have to say.
It's quite magical.
The scene now appears to be Grindelwald on the side of justice, while Dumbledore remains expressionless, the tip of the Elder Wand flashing with an ominous black light.
He became that Dark Lord.
That even more terrifying, even more horrifying Dark Lord.
"I had no choice, Gellert."
Dumbledore's voice was devoid of any emotion, as if his words were merely a formality; he now possessed a heart far colder than Tom Riddle's.
Tom just doesn't understand love.
And he.
They have completely lost almost all their emotions.
"Of course you have it!"
Grindelwald's voice was almost pleading, "We can fight it together! I know it's all because of that one bad deal you made when you were young!"
at this time.
Grindelwald was willing to challenge Death for Dumbledore. A flicker of doubt crossed Albus's eyes, but the next second, Death's voice boomed in his mind:
"You know what the cost of breach of contract is."
The threat of death struck at the heart, and Dumbledore certainly knew what the price Death spoke of was: the life of his sister—Ariana's smiling face appeared before his eyes.
Thinking of this.
Dumbledore has once again raised the model worker branch.
"Avada Kedavra!"
This moment.
A green light pierced through Grindelwald's chest.
This man, who should have become the Dark Lord but instead became the wizards' hope in this timeline, fell with no hatred in his eyes, only deep sorrow.
"Do you really think you saved her?" His soul was devoured by the silver coin in the young Dumbledore's hand, finally becoming the millionth sacrifice Dumbledore harvested.
however.
Has the deal truly ended? Dumbledore stood atop the tower, gazing at the Forbidden Forest in the distance. His right hand was completely black, as if corrupted by some kind of darkness.
This is naturally because of the coin in his hand that carries his soul.
"Yes, the contract is complete." Death's voice rang in his ears, tinged with satisfaction. "A million souls, not one missing."
In this regard.
Albus did not answer, but looked down at the silver coin in his hand—it had become surrounded by a terrifying black mist, imprisoning countless struggling souls.
"Now, Ariana is yours forever." Death chuckled, taking the coin; however, the darkness that had corrupted Dumbledore's arm still lingered on him.
"And you will always belong to me."
The voice of Death was merciless.
Dumbledore slowly closed his eyes.
The illusion keeps changing.
Dumbledore's life flashed before the aging Dumbledore's eyes like a revolving lantern. He saw his glorious achievements as Headmaster of Hogwarts, the outstanding students he had nurtured, and the immense contributions he had made to the wizarding world. However, behind all this glory...
It was his ever-growing bond with Death, his soul being constantly devoured. In this timeline, Dumbledore was growing old, and for many years he had been trying to break free from Death's control.
however.
He could never shake off the ever-present shackles. The old man's hands were clenched into fists, his nails digging deep into his palms, and blood dripped from his fingers onto the ground.
"I'd pay any price to change this..." Dumbledore murmured, his voice filled with despair. At that moment, he was like a bird trapped in a cage, struggling helplessly against invisible shackles. Death's voice rang out again.
"I saved her life, and as long as she lives, your soul will belong to me forever." These words were spoken amidst Ariana's already zombie-like state.
Very old.
But they are still barely alive.
Death would not allow her to die.
"No!"
This is not Dumbledore from the illusion.
It was the elderly Dumbledore.
He raised the Elder Wand, intending to utterly destroy everything around him—however, little did he know that this act would plunge him into an even deeper abyss.
This is a trap with one trap after another.
……
Just as Dumbledore was embroiled in his struggle with the Bronze Gate.
at the same time.
In that ambiguous era.
Ian has already found the group of people he was looking for.
(End of this chapter)