[83] The Quiet After

Their documents would be sent to Hogsmeade, and Hall would retrieve them later. "Looks like I'll have to get the Vanishing Cabinet. After school starts, that's still the most convenient way to transport documents."

Hall headed toward the Forbidden Forest. On the way, he passed Dumbledore, who was escorting Vita Rosier.

This time, Vita stopped when she saw Hall, a faint kindness appearing in her eyes. She looked him up and down — a barely perceptible hint of admiration flickered there.

"Child, do not betray Grindelwald's trust." Her voice remained haughty, but a touch of tenderness lingered.

Hall looked up at the white-haired lady, filled with respect, and bowed deeply. "Madam, please rest assured. I will take good care of my teacher."

But he chose to remain silent regarding her implied question. He was unsure of Grindelwald's stance. If they were ever on opposite sides, he would not hesitate to draw his wand. Therefore, he could not make a promise.

Vita perhaps sensed his hesitation and nodded slightly to indicate she understood. Then she turned to Dumbledore. "I know the way. I can leave on my own. Rest assured, I will not wander off — after all, nothing I do here escapes your notice."

Her tone returned to its usual haughty sarcasm.

Without waiting for a reply, she continued toward the gates.

Dumbledore and Hall exchanged a smile. The Headmaster looked pleased. "I'll go back to the castle first."

"Alright. I'll see you later and report on today's events."

They walked in opposite directions.

Since Grindelwald began teaching Hall, Hall had started addressing him as "Teacher." Judging by Grindelwald's smug expression, he was very satisfied with this title.

Hall was surprised Dumbledore felt comfortable letting him be alone with Grindelwald. Previously, Dumbledore had always watched over him personally during lessons, having witnessed Grindelwald's influence countless times. But Hall's answer to Vita Rosier's question had apparently pleased Dumbledore, confirming Hall's resolute character.

School was about to begin, and Hall would have more time alone with Grindelwald. This was both a sign of trust and a test.

The documents would be sent to Hogsmeade, but the promise between old wizards remained.

Nurmengard.

The promise between Grindelwald and Dumbledore remained valid — Grindelwald would never step outside. From his tower, he surveyed everything happening in the Forbidden Forest.

At this moment, Grindelwald was expressionless, his head slightly bowed, making it impossible to fathom his state of mind. He was like the embodiment of darkness, radiating a suffocating aura.

"Sir..." Misty stood trembling at the doorway, almost breathless at Grindelwald's presence. "Misty has learned something..."

The air fell silent. Misty dared not speak again.

Grindelwald stared at Hall approaching from below. "What is it?"

Misty, so nervous she almost tore her only cloth, took a deep breath. "It's 'You-Know-Who.' The house-elves at Hogwarts say he's back. Right here." She pointed at the ground beneath her feet.

Grindelwald estimated that Hall had already entered Nurmengard. He left the tower and headed down to the study prepared for teaching.

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Misty stepped back, making way, and lowered herself considerably. She heard a very soft, cold snort — full of disdain.

"A madman. Only Albus can tolerate him — hasn't killed him yet."

For three days, Hall had been busy reviewing data from various sources. Some was submitted by the members themselves, some provided by Grindelwald, and some obtained by Hall through his own network.

After comparing and adjusting, Hall had a general understanding of the Saints' available assets.

He rubbed his temples and sighed. "It's really not much."

Even families as loyal as the Rosiers couldn't dedicate all their wealth to the organisation. Most of what they contributed was personal assets. There wasn't a single stable profit-making project — they relied entirely on donations.

After studying all the data, Hall concluded that the Saints had no financial reserves. What they possessed was the loyalty of their members.

So be it.

He'd planned to use the Saints' influence to make money, but now it seemed he needed to lead them in making a quick profit first.

What was the fastest way to make money? Minerals, oil, and weapons. However, the initial investment in weapons was substantial — factories in the Muggle world. Put that aside for now. Start with minerals and oil.

Hall stared at the map before him, a bold plan forming.

In the magical world, many families owned their own mines, using concealment and repelling charms to protect their veins from Muggle discovery. Even so, they didn't own many — single veins passed down through generations. The wizarding population couldn't consume that much ore.

The Muggle world was completely different. Large population, high needs, enormous consumption.

Using the mines owned by nobles would provoke outrage. The best solution was to develop new mines.

Hall's eyes settled on a particular region. He remembered a place that had amassed a fortune through oil — seemingly inexhaustible. He had investigated, and this world's trajectory was predictable in major events. That country had been extracting oil for nearly thirty years, accumulating immense wealth.

What Hall had his eye on was a gold mine that the country would only discover decades later. He wanted to strike first.

He could already see countless gold coins glittering before his eyes.

Hall outlined his strategy for the properties.

"So you mean we should use concealment and repelling charms on these places first, and then buy them after confirming what's inside?" Carlo asked uncertainly.

Hall had rented a villa in a quiet corner of Hogsmeade. There were seven people in the room: Hall, Carlo, Abernathy, a Rosier representative, and three members of minor families who sat in the back to echo.

"Yes. But it's not just this one place. There are several others. Have someone check them all." Hall pointed to several locations on the map. "Whoever funds the mining in these places gets thirty percent. The remaining seventy goes to the organisation."

His words sparked discussion. The murmurs were quite lively.

Carlo was pushed forward again. Hall guessed it was because they'd seen his previous favourable treatment.

"Respected Mr Hall, if — I mean, if — someone concealed the information, what would happen?" Carlo was tempted by the thirty percent share. If these locations truly held mineral resources, both the family and the Saints would become incredibly wealthy. The Saints would regain their place on the world stage.

"An unbreakable oath. I thought you all knew that." Hall's voice was cold and stern. His gaze swept over everyone, sending chills down their spines.

Everyone's expression changed. They knew the power of that spell. If used, they had to strictly adhere to the agreement without the slightest concealment. Not even a fraction less could be considered a breach, subjecting them to severe punishment — even death.

"This... isn't this too serious..." someone whispered, fear in their voice.

"We're all family, all for the Saints. There's no need —" another agreed, trying to ease the tension.

The major families remained silent, observing.

Hall raised his head, displeasure flashing in his eyes. His gaze swept over the representatives, making them feel immense pressure. They recalled the scene of kneeling three days prior — the image vivid in their minds.

Their expressions instantly became respectful. "We will investigate, sir. Please don't be angry."

Carlo extended his hand. Under Hall's gaze, he and the others signed the unbreakable oath. Their expressions were serious and solemn.

"Very good. I hope you remember your promise today." Hall nodded with satisfaction and left.

The men watched his departing figure, their hearts filled with unease. They knew that if they broke their oath, the consequences would be unimaginable. They began taking action, preparing to travel to the mining areas.

In the days that followed, they tirelessly travelled between different mines, meticulously verifying production data. They dared not be careless.

Hall kept a close eye on their every move.

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