— — — — — —
As Tom absorbed the flames, it felt as though he was living through Jeanne d'Arc's entire life.
The carefree innocence of childhood. The devout faith she embraced after being preached to. The sorrow she felt for the world after hearing of war. Leaving home in response to divine revelation. The terror of her first time on the battlefield, and the gradual adaptation that followed. Then, little by little, more and more people began to rally around her.
Seeing everything through Jeanne's eyes, Tom could clearly sense the intense hostility almost everyone around her carried.
That had been what confused him yesterday. Jeanne possessed the gift of intuition, amplified by Faith Support.
She should have understood all of this better than anyone. She should have sensed when people meant to use her, deceive her, or kill her. So why did she keep leading her army into relentless charges? Why did she never resist, even when she was finally bound to the stake and burned alive?
Now, he understood.
In Jeanne's worldview, how others saw her simply didn't matter. What mattered was fulfilling the Lord's revelation. She even felt compassion for soldiers and nobles alike, pitying them for their ignorance.
And when the flames consumed her, Jeanne's soul and magic ascended together. She began creating the [Divine Grace's Proxy (Crimson Saint)] talent.
As she absorbed the power of fire, she also took in the lingering will of those who had died at the stake before her. Her transformation was complete, granting her dominion over the crimson flames of judgment and punishment.
Tom opened his eyes just in time to see a spell roaring toward him. (Andros's spell)
"Hmm..." Tom's body reacted on instinct. He raised his hand and fired back with a blast of magic of his own.
The two forces collided in midair, detonating into a violent shockwave.
Andros showed no intention of holding back. With a casual wave of his hand, vast magical power surged and shook the space.
After a brief moment of disorientation, Tom realized what was happening and refused to be outdone, launching magic head-on in response. The two powers clashed and intertwined, neither able to overwhelm the other. The only real victim was the land itself, as the terrain and even the sky warped and shifted—hail fell from clear skies one moment, flaming meteors the next.
"Congratulations, Tom."
Andros withdrew his magic, his face breaking into a radiant smile. "You should be the youngest Century King in history."
Two and a half years of practice, relentless effort… and, well, a bit of cheating. Tom had finally reached the pinnacle of wizardry, an absolute king whose reign spanned an era.
"Maybe," Tom said, stopping as well. He jerked his chin toward the residential area and grinned. "Now that there's a Jeanne, who's to say there won't be someone even more outrageous?"
"True. The world is too big to predict what kind of monsters might show up," Andros replied. "Still, I'm confident none of them will have your cheat."
Tom looked down at his own hands and flexed his fingers, still finding it hard to believe. "But becoming a Century King was that easy? I thought I'd need years of buildup, a massive foundation. Or at least a life-and-death battle and a sudden flash of inspiration."
"Instead I just picked up a few talents and it worked out," he muttered. "Feels kind of fake, doesn't it?"
Andros's eyelid twitched violently.
This kid really had the nerve to complain after getting such a bargain. Fake? He'd wanted things to feel fake too, back then.
Memories of his own path to power surfaced, bringing a wave of bitterness. He was exactly the type Tom had just described, someone who had only broken through by surviving countless battles to the death.
And not just one or two. Many. It was basically his life.
To become Andros the Invincible, he had practically offended every top-tier wizard across the Mediterranean and Nile regions. That was how the title of "Invincible" had been beaten into existence.
"I was still a bit out of it just now," Tom said cheerfully. "How about we go another round?"
He met Andros's unfriendly gaze without the slightest hint of fear, instead grinning and issuing a blatant challenge.
We're both monsters now. Before, I was a level behind you. But now we're on the same tier.
I, Tom Riddle, am going to beat you.
"..."
Andros didn't mince words. He pulled out his wand.
He was a master of wandless casting, but a wand still amplified his power. Against the current Tom, he could go all out.
And... the battle erupted once more.
Two towering humanoid Patronuses, each over twenty meters tall, burst from the ground and immediately began beating the hell out of each other.
At the same time, their summoners launched into an epic magical duel of their own.
The ferocity of this fight surpassed even the legendary duel between Grindelwald and Dumbledore, once hailed as the greatest of the century. For the first time in his life, Andros felt the pressure of a wizard truly on his level, his magic so active it was almost boiling.
The massive disturbance also caught the attention of the three who were attending their cultural makeup classes. They stepped out of the villa to watch the spectacle.
"When did Tom become stronger?" Ravenclaw asked, immediately sensing the difference.
Every strand of Tom's magic was now infused with an overwhelming will. It was no longer bound by fixed spells, instead branching into endless variations.
"Lord Chosen One is amazing," Jeanne said, her eyes sparkling as she clasped her hands together and began praying fervently for Tom's victory.
...
Half an hour later—
Hiss. A cigar was lit.
Tom took a deep drag, exhaled a smoke ring, and sighed. "Little Andros, who do you think the title of 'Invincible' should belong to from now on?"
Andros stared up at the sky with a look of utter despair. "Tom… do you really have to rub it in like this?"
"Of course," Tom shot back. "If you don't show off when you win, when do you? Or did you forget how you used to bully me?"
Every time he'd just started to feel a little proud, Andros would smack him flat onto the ground with a massive slap. Thinking about it still made Tom grit his teeth.
"Fine, fine," Andros said helplessly. "You're invincible. Tom Riddle the Invincible. Happy now?"
He glanced over at him. "Can you get off me already?"
Only then did Tom pat the dust off himself and climb off Andros, feeling refreshed and thoroughly satisfied. Seeing that smug, victorious look on his face, Andros couldn't help but laugh in exasperation.
Tom waved in the direction where Jeanne and the others were, then slipped into the meditation room to digest the insights he'd gained from the fight.
Andros, meanwhile, fell into thought. He couldn't be the only one suffering. He had to drag Grindelwald into this and let Tom beat him up too.
This time, Old Gellert should turn into Little Gellert too, right?
"sigh~ whatever… Tom is cheating anyway."
---
In the Meditation Room
Replaying everything from start to finish, Tom realized just how vast the gap was between a Century King and those of lower ranks.
The talents he just got. It pushed his willpower even further, allowing it to fuse seamlessly with his magic. And reliving Jeanne's entire life, especially that moment of becoming one with the flames, elevated his understanding of magic to a new level.
Magic was rooted in bloodlines, but expressing it required the power of the heart. When both were strong enough, they could even influence the laws of the world.
"No rushing things," Tom muttered. "First I'll perfect the fusion of will and magic at this stage. After that, I can go to Ravenclaw and see why Legends are another whole level."
With his plan set, he exited the study space.
He wanted to be an SSS-tier legendary wizard, but he wasn't in a hurry. This was the time for restraint. Chasing higher power blindly without considering himself would only lead to obsession, turning him into a slave of power like Voldemort.
---
"I don't eat beef!"
At breakfast the next morning, Tom flatly rejected the beef sandwich Daphne handed him.
"Huh?" the young witch blinked in confusion. "But isn't beef your favorite?"
Astoria looked at him strangely as well.
Tom answered with absolute confidence. "My tastes have changed lately. Anyway, I'm not eating beef this week."
There wasn't a single person left in this world who could beat him. Even Old Dumbles with the Elder Wand wouldn't be enough. Naturally, he could shout, "I don't eat beef," as loudly as he liked.
The sisters exchanged a look. Tom was clearly having one of his periodic episodes again. They weren't surprised. Daphne simply made him a chicken sandwich instead, which Tom ate happily.
Before heading to class, he glanced once more at Dumbledore on the high table.
Old Dumbles looked much healthier these days. He seemed quite pleased with how things stood. Probably chatting with Grindelwald every day, bonding and all that. Most of the worry between his brows had faded.
Nothing major had been happening lately, so he probably wouldn't be leaving the school. That meant Fawkes had some free time too.
He should find time to complete the final Phoenix Trial.
Sensing Tom's gaze, Dumbledore looked over and smiled.
Tom smiled back, then led the girls off to class.
...
At the same time, at Durmstrang—
Grindelwald still had no idea that Tom became SS wizard. He knew even less that Andros had picked up some bad habits and was planning to set him up.
Over the past two days, Grindelwald had more or less sorted out the school's affairs. He selected a group of students worth training and had the professors put them through a specialized drill.
He didn't care about childish play fights, but the underage wizard dueling tournament was also a contest between himself and Dumbledore. That made it something he couldn't afford to ignore.
After handing the training arrangements over to Vogel, Grindelwald summoned Robert Graves.
Humble and respectful, Robert bowed slightly. "Sir, you called for me?"
"Robert." Grindelwald idly toyed with his coffee spoon, not bothering to offer him a seat, leaving him standing there.
He blew gently on the hot coffee and spoke unhurriedly. "You said you would tell me everything you know. Information about the American Congress, the International Confederation of Wizards, even the secrets of the Graves family."
Robert nodded immediately. "Of course. What would you like to know?"
"Tell me about that Aztec ruin," Grindelwald said, lifting his head. A sharp gleam flashed through his mismatched eyes. "What exactly did you find in there?"
Robert's expression changed slightly. He had anticipated many questions, but not this one.
Suddenly, he thought of the nearly exterminated Picquery family. Understanding flickered across his eyes.
So it wasn't just about revenge.
Robert took a deep breath. Whatever hesitation lingered in his heart was crushed under Grindelwald's piercing gaze. He obediently told him everything he knew.
.
.
.