John had two ideas.

One is to go to the limit under the threat of life and death and break that bottleneck.

The second is the Deathly Hallows.

That's right, the three things Grindelwald wanted to collect.

Elder Wand, Resurrection Stone, Cloak of Invisibility.

A treasure from the three brothers, and at the same time a creation of the Grim Reaper.

It is rumored that those who obtain three treasures will become the owner of the Grim Reaper.

John scoffed at this, because he had seen the Grim Reaper that guy.

With the arrival of the Resurrection Stone, he made a deal with the Grim Reaper to resurrect his friend.

He could feel that some of the rules hidden in the Resurrection Stone were indeed useful.

The Elder Wand's ability to raise any magic level by one level also made John feel different.

The three treasures combined, unable to become the master of the Grim Reaper, will definitely bring some changes.

After the end of the International Council of Wizards.

John went to the Silver Hand Manor.

Tang Mi was relieved to see John come back.

"I'm really worried that the adults will deal with Muggles alone."

Nothing was more important to Don Mi than John's safety.

"How's the werewolf doing?" John put the Elder Wand away.

In this war, werewolves also actively participated.

And before John's arrival, those battles also cost the wizard a loss.

At the mention of werewolves, Tang Mi lost a smile on his face.

"Werewolves sacrificed a lot."

John was also silent.

The werewolf still lived up to his trust.

After a long time, John exhaled, "It makes me feel heavy."

Trust, it's too heavy.

In the face of a group of people who are going to die for him at any time, he can't use them to achieve some goals with peace of mind.

"Your Excellency, Grindelwald...... Are you dead?" A trace of hatred flashed in Tang Mi's eyes.

This is the answer that everyone wants to know.

The result of the decisive battle with Grindelwald during the time of their king's disappearance.

Despite seeing the Elder Wand, Donmi was eager to hear the answer from John.

The villain who caused trouble in the wizarding world.

"Nope." John hung his head and looked at the letter on the table, "He survived and never appeared again."

This is a letter from Crouch.

John opened it and asked, "Do you blame me, Donmy?"

"I won't," Tang Mi shook his head and said firmly, "I'll only follow your lords."

Sighing, John said, "I need to leave for a while."

"What do you need me to do?"

Same question as Percy.

John paused and said, "Trust me."

...

"The Greatest Minister of Magic, Barty Crouch."

John stood in front of Barty Sr.'s tombstone and looked at his friend, who was buried there.

He put his hand on it and patted it gently.

It's like before, he patted old Barty sitting in a chair.

"I've let you down, old Barty."

Faced with this friend, John was filled with guilt.

"I didn't fulfill our promise."

He put down the flowers he brought, his expression complicated, "I should have killed him."

Dumbledore did not hesitate to kneel, making it impossible for John to make a decision.

He looked at old Barty, and the guilt of this moment was already overflowing.

He took out the resurrection stone and looked at the pitch-black stone.

He laughed to himself, "Maybe that's why you didn't come to see me."

He couldn't tell whether the resurrection stone was a regret or a ghost.

As the holder of the Resurrection Stone, he was unable to see the soul he wanted.

"Maybe down there,

You spit on John Wick," John said, "I understand you, Barty Sr."

The rain was falling down the tombstone, and John didn't hold an umbrella.

He needs to be quiet once in a while.

What cannot be revealed in the presence of a living friend can be displayed in the presence of a dead friend.

Little Barty saw him and silently came to John with an umbrella to shield him from the rain.

"I'm sorry, I didn't kill Grindelwald." John didn't look back, he calmly looked at the picture of the family of three under the tombstone of Old Barty, "You can already leave me."

Barty Jr. didn't speak.

The rain crackled on the umbrella.

The heavy rain had no intention of stopping, and the wind came with it.

The two of them held it like this for about fifteen minutes.

Barty Jr. looked at the picture.

Old Barty kept a straight face as usual, and his mother smiled softly.

Barty Jr., who has just entered school, tries to show what he should be like as the only son of the Crouch family.

As the shutter is pressed, the picture freezes for a few seconds.

"I saw my father." Little Barty spoke, "In the midst of my dying experience in the Himalayas, I saw my parents, and I coveted my mother's arms and begged them to take me away from this place of pain."

John listened quietly.

"But they wouldn't let me pass," Barty Jr. looked away from the photo to the young and tired side face, "I'm sad, angry, scared."

He said calmly, but with a little tremor in his tone.

"I told them that there was no place for me in this world."

"But my father said, 'What about John Wick?'

Little Barty paused, and John's eyes rolled.

"Father told me that he was already the second king, the second king who defeated Voldemort, and he needed me."

"He told me what I've been running away from."

"Yes, I've taken that young child as my guide."

"I didn't even notice it."

"Father told me at last," Barty Jr. slowly half-knelt down, stroking his right hand to his heart, looking at the king in front of him, "to be yourself, and let go of Crouch."

"You always thought that hatred was carrying me forward and keeping me alive."

"Great King, you are wrong, this is the first time you have made a mistake before me."

A smile tugged at the corners of Barty's mouth, he lowered his head, and said in a reverent tone, "I live for you, Barty Crouch, who is already a believer in the king."

John never knew this.

The rain slowly stopped, and the last drop of rain hit the tombstone, making a splash.

John looked up.

The sunlight pierced the gloomy clouds and fell on his face.

The sun after the rain is not dazzling.

He muttered, "Is that so?"

It turns out that there are some people who have come to regard the king as life.

The king, who can't make everyone happy, is too himself.

A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, and he stood up and stretched, "Your trust still weighs on you."

"That's the weight that can be felt because of cherishing." Little Barty looked up at the king of the sun after the rain.

The king who can feel the weight will be the one the wizarding world expects.

He who wastes trust cannot become a great king after all.

John smiled and reached over Barty Sr.'s tombstone.

"Is it because of trust?"

Little Barty bowed, "What do you need me to do?"

"Then continue to trust me," John said with a smile in his eyes, "let me take you to see a whole new world."

The first king, the courtiers whom you do not want, let me lead them.

It's time for the wizards to see.

The disappearance of the first and second.

In the wizarding world, as long as there is one king, it is fine.

The strongest one!

...