Chapter One Hundred and Twenty: Credence vs. Dumbledore

While Newt and Theseus headed toward the Erkstag prison, Dumbledore was strolling leisurely through the streets of Berlin.

Snowflakes drifted down from the sky, layering the streets and alleys in a white, velvety carpet.

This velvet carpet was not meant to last. Snow shoveled from the road surfaces to the sides, mixed with the grime of the city, lost its pristine whiteness and piled up in dirty mounds around the lampposts.

Dumbledore waded through the slush melting on the street and stopped before a shop window. Reflected in the glass, he saw a young man with unkempt hair falling over his shoulders.

With his wand concealed within his sleeve, Dumbledore silently cast a spell he had only recently mastered upon a falling snowflake. The flake transformed into countless glass-like shards, swept over Dumbledore’s shoulder, soared above the passing cars, and struck the young man squarely between the brows before dissolving into steam.

Dumbledore tightened his grip on his wand and turned to face the young man.

"Good morning, Credence," he said with a smile.

"My name is Aurelius Dumbledore!" Credence retorted mercilessly. He then asked with bitterness, "Do you know what it feels like to have been alone your entire life?"

"I am sorry for what you have endured, Credence," Dumbledore said softly.

Credence’s expression stiffened, and he said nothing more. The scene grew quiet, yet the way the surrounding stones shattered and began to hover betrayed the turbulence of his emotions.

A phoenix flew across the sky above the street, signaling the start of their duel.

Credence whipped his wand out, unleashing a powerful curse. The surrounding debris surged with his spell, firing toward Dumbledore. Dumbledore swung his wand with force, deflecting the attack, which left the shop behind him in ruins.

Credence did not pause, charging viciously at Dumbledore. As he sprinted, the buildings lining the street crumbled into ruins, and countless shards of stone followed in his wake, flying toward Dumbledore amidst a deafening roar.

Dumbledore quickly erected a transparent barrier. When Credence struck it, the sheer force pushed Dumbledore backward, leaving two long furrows in the snow. Seeing cracks spider-webbing across the barrier, Dumbledore abruptly took a step back and vanished.

He reappeared on the other side of the street.

Seeing his attacks fail, Credence fully unleashed the power of the Obscurus within him. He transformed into a mass of black, flocculent mist, dragging everything in sight along with him, rolling toward Dumbledore like a heavy, dark cloud.

The sky turned dark, smothered by the oppressive clouds!

Against such overwhelming power, Dumbledore seemed tiny, like a small boat in a storm, at risk of being swallowed by the gale at any moment.

"I’m sorry, Credence," Dumbledore murmured. "This is my domain now."

Dumbledore vanished again, leaving the black clouds with no target. Credence materialized, looking bewildered, only to see Dumbledore standing on a tram that was gliding quietly along its tracks nearby.

Gritting his teeth, Credence transformed back into black mist and swept toward the red tram. Strangely, the passengers inside showed no reaction to the mist about to consume them; they simply sat expressionless, waiting for the encroaching darkness.

"You should learn to revere life, Credence," Dumbledore said quietly.

"That has nothing to do with you!" Credence shouted in anger, lashing out with the mist.

Yet Dumbledore had vanished once more, and Credence succeeded in destroying nothing but an empty tram.

"Come out, you coward!" Credence wheezed, shouting into the surrounding air.

Dumbledore’s figure appeared before him again. "Credence, things are not always as they appear."

Credence charged recklessly, but Dumbledore vanished again.

"Just as with all of Grindelwald’s deceptions, seeing is not necessarily believing, Credence," Dumbledore said as he reappeared, his tone gentle.

Credence launched countless attacks, and as many times did Dumbledore vanish, never once allowing even the hem of his coat to be touched. By the time Credence was exhausted, Dumbledore appeared for the final time, pressing his wand against the back of the young man’s neck.

"Enough, Credence," Dumbledore said. "You cannot defeat me here."

"What did you do?" Credence asked, his voice dull with exhaustion.

"A Mirror Dimension—a very novel piece of magic. I learned it from an interesting spirit," Dumbledore chuckled. "Though, I did make a few modifications."

As he spoke, Dumbledore lifted a silver Put-Outer in his left hand and clicked it.

"I told you, seeing is not necessarily believing," he said.

All light in the vicinity was absorbed by the device. The scene grew dim, with only a faint glow filtering in from the walls of the dark space—the true Berlin street, where pedestrians and vehicles remained undisturbed by the duel. Everything that had just transpired had been an illusion.

Unable to accept this, Credence spun around and threw a punch at Dumbledore, his body beginning to fray into black mist once more. But this time, Dumbledore did not vanish. He flicked his wand, and a surge of force knocked Credence to the ground.

The power of the Obscurus was forcibly squeezed out of Credence, the black, flocculent energy coating the dim floor. As the power left him, Credence’s face twisted in agony, his complexion turning deathly pale, his body frail.

Just then, a flash of golden light pierced the boundary, and a golden-red phoenix appeared in the Mirror Dimension. She circled Credence, emitting a melody that was both beautiful and mournful.

Dumbledore watched the phoenix, his sharp gaze softening.

"The phoenix came for me, not for you..." Credence whispered, his voice trembling.

"I know," Dumbledore said softly, a glint of moisture in his eyes. "I know."

"Aurelius Dumbledore, I think we need to have a proper talk."