192 Chapter 59, the only Rule

The giant dragon roared across the sky, and the crowd ran like crazy in the city, but they couldn't see the giant dragon.

In the absurd city, they cry, they collapse, they face the loneliness in their hearts, they are in pain, they can't express their emotions, they either go crazy in silence, or die in carnival.

a week later. On a hillside in an unknown seaside town, Hoffa woke up from a nightmare. His face was pale, and his back hurt from the dilapidated wooden bed beneath him.

It took a while for his golden eyes to regain focus.

At this moment, about a week has passed since the crazy experience at Hogwarts. During this week, the nihilistic dragon flying around the world and his soul link made Hoffa have been experiencing nightmares and hallucinations.

He could dream of the other person's position, the other's thoughts, and the other's behavior, just as Harry often dreamed of Voldemort, even more frequently and crazily.

He sat up from the wooden bed, and heard faint voices coming from the hillside outside the door.

"Will something happen to him?"

"He's in good health, as is the bull."

Hoffa got up and walked out slowly with bare feet. It turned out that in the early morning sunlight, Fatil and Aglaia were talking by the fire, on which two skewers of fish were stuck.

"I'm not asking about his body, I'm saying"

Aglea pointed to the mind, and asked Fatiel softly.

"Very few people die more than twice."

Fatil fiddled with the bonfire and said casually, "Unless that person completely loses hope."

"That's it"

Aglaia saw Hoffa standing by the wooden door, and chose to keep silent.

Fatil saw Hoffa too, and he gave him a slight nod.

"Yo, wake up."

"I'm going to get some tea."

Aglaia said she took one look at Hoffa and walked around to the back of the house.

After she left, Hoffa stepped on the snow on the ground, slowly came to the bonfire on the hillside, and said hello.

"Hi."

"Did you sleep well?"

Fatil asked without raising his head.

"Um."

Hoffa nodded and sat down on the rock.

Putting his hands on the fire, he looked at the man he hadn't seen a few times since school started.

The guilt and anxiety in his heart were hard to express. Just a week ago, he almost killed the other party's daughter.

But obviously Fatil didn't mean to entangle the past, he directly pulled out a newspaper from behind and handed it to Hoffa. Hoffa took a look, and the contents of the newspaper were shocking.

In the black-and-white magic photo, groups of people crowded in the city, with oil paint on their faces, smashing wildly like barbarians, including Muggles and wizards. Like a tsunami, they smashed the burning objects in their hands to tall buildings and cars.

Among them, someone put his face close to the camera and shouted frantically, "God is dead!"

With loud laughter, the reporter holding the camera was overturned to the ground by the chaotic crowd.

Hoffa tightened his fingers and put down the newspaper.

"This country is on the verge of collapsing, and a large number of people are dying from suicide and homicide every day."

Fatil said softly, "No one cares about the rules anymore, Hogwarts is closed and Gringotts is bankrupt.

Grindelwald wants to destroy the cornerstone of the entire British society, and his goal is being realized step by step. "

After a pause, he said: "I have been delayed here for too long, Grindelwald's next step must be other infrastructure, it may be Azkaban, or it may be St. Mungo's Magic Hospital.

Aglaia and I are leaving here today, we are going to stop Grindelwald and make a break with him. "

At this time, Aglaia turned around from behind holding a small cup. She heard Fatil's words and couldn't help but exclaimed: "Father."

But Fatil ignored her, he looked straight at Hoffa:

"That nihilistic dragon must be stopped by someone. It spreads chaos and nothingness in the Muggle world. It is the source of everything. If it doesn't disappear, despair and pain will always envelope the world."

Aglaia sighed as she walked over to Hoffa and handed him a steaming cup of pine needle tea.

Hoffa took it gratefully and took a sip, slightly bitter but hot.

"Do you want me to defeat that dragon?" he asked softly.

Fatil didn't answer, just looked at him.

"I do not know what to do."

Hoffa put down the newspaper. "I'm not sure I can beat it."

"If anyone can defeat that monster, it must be you." Fatil said:

"It was born from you as a monster, and only you can understand its motives, its weaknesses, isn't it?"

Hoffa held a branch and fiddled with the bonfire in front of him. After a long silence, he suddenly turned his head:

"Its body."

"What?"

"It does have part of my soul, but its body is not mine. I want to know who made its body."

"If it's just physical life, I think it must be the work of Norber Hagrid. He used alchemy to extract the lives of other dragons and fuse them into a monster."

"Noble Hagrid?"

Hoffa was taken aback, thinking of his weird summer vacation adventure. The wanted man with the beard.

"Noble Hagrid created another body of mine?"

"That's right, speaking of it, I've seen him once before."

Fatil took out a note from his pocket and handed it to Hoffa:

"If you want to find him, you can follow this map to find him. I left a magic beacon on him last time, but I don't have time to find him again."

Hoffa looked at the note, and thought of that time during the summer vacation, when Noble finally left him and left alone. Did that guy really create another self?

At this moment, Fatil finished drinking the tea in his cup. Standing up, "Life is hard, I think you will have to face him sooner or later."

Hoffa put away the note, "I understand."

"Very good." Fatil nodded in satisfaction.

He turned around and patted Aglaia on the shoulder: "If you have anything to say, hurry up, we're leaving soon."

After speaking, he walked down the hillside and disappeared into the whirling bushes, leaving only Hoffa and Aglaia by the winter campfire, facing each other.

Aglaia looked at Hoffa, and seemed to have a lot to say to him, but they only exchanged eyes with each other, and then they knew what the other was thinking, and now they couldn't back down.

In the end, she couldn't say anything wonderful, but just looked at Hoffa: "You are fine, don't do stupid things."

Hoffa nodded: "I understand."

After a simple breakfast, Fatil took Aglea and left Hoffa. They mounted the dragon and disappeared into the sky.

At this moment, he was sitting alone by the bonfire, facing the ocean in the distance, and opened the paper that looked like a navigation map that Fatil gave him.

On the paper, an arrow points to the Hebrides in the distance.

After confirming the location, he silently turned around and embarked on an unknown journey. This is the second time he has carried out the mission about Noble, but this time, it is no longer for adventure and excitement, but for his own redemption.

North Sea isolated island, Azkaban Prison.

On the ground, blood was flowing meanderingly, among which were scattered gravel and batons, countless corpses of jailers fell on the ground, some limbs were twisted into twists, and some heads were knocked out with big holes. Some bodies were even torn in half abruptly.

A silver giant dragon patron saint perched high in the dungeon, looking around with its icy eyes, such a scene seemed unable to cause any fluctuations to it. Under the light of the patron saint, the dementors of Azkaban shrank and floated in the corner.

Countless prisoners wearing blue and white striped prison uniforms gathered under the patron saint of the lower dragon. They raised their heads and their bodies were covered with still warm blood.

Surprisingly, they all remained silent.

In Nuo Da's prison, there was a clanging sound. It was the sound of joints and iron railings clashing.

A man with pale hair ran across the cold iron railing with his slender fingers, knocking on the iron surface.

On his right hand, he dragged a man with a bruised nose and a swollen face. The man was wearing a black cloak, and he was the warden of Azkaban.

thump!

The warden rolled down the steps and fell to the ground, surrounded by countless prisoners who had been suppressed for several years.

The warden looked up and saw the expressions of anger and admiration intertwined in the eyes of the prisoners, but that fanaticism was as ferocious as a wild beast. The sight nearly made him faint.

Grindelwald stood on a high place and glanced around:

"Prison, a special product of human civilization, a machine that deprives time and hope. The reasons for you to be held here are murder, plunder, treason, and violence. Morally, you are all hopeless thugs , prisoner.

But in my opinion, these morals are rules, all rules are lies, and there is only one rule in the world. There should only be one rule, survival of the fittest. "

The prisoners were agitated.

Grindelwald: "I have a natural affection for those who dare to break the rules. We are human beings, and the original sin of human beings exists in everyone. And sometimes, human beings don't have the right to make choices. Isn't it?"

After he finished speaking slowly, the prison resounded with applause like thunder and lightning. The fanaticism and hope in their eyes was even worse, it was the eyes of the savior.

The applause was about to break, and there was an angry curse on the ground:

"Madman!! Monster!! Devil!!"

It turned out that the warden roared. He struggled to support himself, pointed at Grindelwald and cursed, "Wait, someone will definitely come and deal with you."

"I'll prove it to you."

Grindelwald interrupted him slowly, slowly but firmly: "Even if it is - the warden. In the face of certain times, he will become like you."

He snapped his fingers.

"Schmidt."

In the shadows in the distance, another man stepped out step by step. He was tall and wearing heavy shackles. He looked at Grindelwald with tears and respect in his eyes.

Grindelwald said lightly: "It's time to dedicate yourself."

"yes."

Schmidt said, taking a step forward and crouching down in front of the slumped warden. Throw a sharpened piece of iron into the hands of the warden.

The warden looked at the iron sheet in his hand with a stunned expression.

Grindelwald: "Warden Vincent, you have two choices. One is to kill Schmidt so that you can join us and continue to survive in this ridiculous world. The other is to be killed by my friend killed."

"I XX you, go eat shit! Do you think I will listen to you?" The warden roared and cursed.

"You only have five seconds, and Lutrov will give you five seconds to kill him."

"You're an antisocial lunatic, a lunatic!"

The warden cursed out of breath: "I am destined to be nailed to the wizard's pillar of shame forever."

Grindelwald was unmoved, and stretched out a palm: "5,"

The countdown begins.

The warden trembled, staring at Grindelwald.

And Schmidt Rutrov knelt down on one knee affectionately, looking at Grindelwald.

"4," Grindelwald puts away a finger.

"Crazy. You crazy."

The warden was short of breath, and cold sweat dripped from his forehead.

"3,"

Grindelwald put away one finger again, counting down like a machine indifferently.

"3!!"

All the prisoners stared at the two people in the field with their eyes wide open. They were short of breath and clenched their fists. They couldn't help but start the countdown with Grindelwald, and the sound resounded through the prison.

The warden looked at the iron sheet in his hand.

"You, you mentally ill!"

The warden trembled like chaff, and cold sweat flowed from every corner of his body.

"2."

Grindelwald raised his eyebrows, grinned with a smile, and almost followed closely with his last finger.

"1."

At this moment, the invisible pressure was like the last straw that broke the camel's back.

The warden struggled to get up, and the sharp piece of iron penetrated the neck of Lutrov who was kneeling on the ground. As the blood spewed out, the ground was instantly dyed red.

The iron piece was pulled out, and the warden looked at the red iron piece in his hand, and then at Lutrov who was standing still. For a moment, the two trembled, and the iron piece fell to the ground. Under the tremendous pressure, he collapsed and knelt down, crying loudly.

Grindelwald bent down and touched Rutrov's cheek with his hand, "You are the best angel."

Schmidt Rutrov fell to the ground with a smile. Died of anger.

Grindelwald straightened up, not looking at the kneeling warden or Schmidt Rutrov who was dying. He stared into the void, stubborn and arrogant.

this moment.

The tsunami-like cheers resounded through the prison, like a paradise lost at the end of the day. After being imprisoned in this dark cage for so long, no one wants to stay here any longer.

The screaming lasted for less than a second before it stopped.

Grindelwald raised a finger and said calmly:

"I decided to take some people out of here to do something more meaningful. However, if you want to go out with me, there are conditions."

Grindelwald waved his finger, and with a loud bang, all the steel bars on the prison flew out, and scattered all over the ground in front of the prisoners with a clang.

Grindelwald looked around and stepped over Schmidt's body. The crowd automatically dispersed into two rows. He said lightly:

"Only half of the people here can go out. I only want the best people. As a pass to freedom, find your opponent and kill your opponent."

After speaking, he strolled through the prisoners without looking sideways,

Only the group of prisoners behind them looked at each other.

In the end, who knows who was the first to rush to the ground and hit the iron rod. This action was like igniting the fuse of explosives, pushing the entire prison into complete disorder and madness.

This chapter will be published first, and the remaining chapters will be published after I communicate with the editor and revise the previous chapters.