Your Business with Fleur

In Western mythology, dragon slayers are all great heroes, such as Siegfried, Beowulf, Saint George, Lancelot, and Saint Martha in Germanic legends.

Many of these people are actually wizards, and some have indeed accomplished the feat of slaying dragons.

But a wizard like Tom, who killed a Hungarian Horntail at only eleven years old, is probably unprecedented in the history of the Wizarding World, isn't he?

Polana's mind raced; this might be the greatest opportunity their Veela Tribe had had in a century.

If Phoebe and Tom can get together, their tribe will have a dragon slayer as a backer, and judging from Tom's current momentum, he will definitely become even more powerful in the future.

Don't assume that the French Ministry of Magic and the tribes have a good relationship; frankly, it's all about mutual exploitation.

The Ministry of Magic is rife with factions, and many have long coveted their tribe's wealth, or even the Veela themselves. It is only because the situation is stable now, with other factions keeping them in check, that the tribe is able to remain at peace.

But once the balance is broken, in the end, force will have to prevail.

Besides, it's obvious to everyone that Phoebe has feelings for Tom. This isn't really selling her granddaughter; it's just going with the flow.

Polana pointed to a chair. "Sit." Tom sat down.

"You saved my people, I haven't forgotten." Polana's voice was soft. "You killed the fire dragon and accomplished your task. Now, it's time to talk about you and Phoebe."

Tom looked at her. "What happened between me and Phoebe?"

Polana said, "She's thirteen years old, a third-year student at Beauxbatons, and she'll be competing in the Triwizard Tournament next year."

Polana sighed. "I'm not trying to force you to do anything, I just want to tell you that Phoebe is no ordinary Veela."

"She's Half-blood, but she's more talented than a Pure-blood Veela. Her future is not something this small tribe can provide."

"So what?"

"So, if you want to be friends with her, I won't stop you. But if you want to—" she paused, "You'd better grow up quickly."

Tom stood up. "I will."

He stepped out of the wooden house, Phoebe leaned against the doorframe. "What did the chieftain say to you?"

"They said you're going to participate in the Triwizard Tournament next year."

Phoebe blushed. "Why does she tell you everything?"

Tom looked at the distant forest, where the setting sun had turned the treetops orange-red.

"Phoebe, the Fiendfire I used to kill the dragon was the Fiendfyre that saved you guys that day. But the dragon is really tough. The wizard was burned to death in seconds, but this thing was roasted for several minutes and it was still jumping around." Tom proudly raised his chin.

"Is it Fiendfyre?" Phoebe blinked. "The book says Fiendfyre is completely uncontrollable; only a few spells can counteract it."

"That's because the author of the book isn't as good as me, nor as good as my teacher, which is why they think the Fiendfyre is uncontrollable."

"Hmph, all you do is brag."

"That's not bragging. Just you wait and see, I'll become stronger and stronger."

Phoebe didn't argue with him; she just felt that the boy in front of her was from a completely different world from those silly, boastful boys at school.

Half an hour later, Phoebe told Tom to get some rest and then left the cabin.

Tom couldn't sleep at all; after merging with the Dragon Blood, he was so energetic he could demolish a house.

He sank into his consciousness and examined the Twelve Trials.

The dragon-shaped script disappeared, replaced by a starry sky and twelve palaces, the first of which was blindingly bright, while the remaining eleven were all dark.

His mental focus fell on the second palace, and trial information popped up:

[Second Trial: Gain the recognition and following of a unicorn]

[Reward: Blessing of the Sacred Beast, purifies the soul, and enhances comprehension]

Tom: "..."

No way?

Unicorns only recognize pure young girls. How could a guy like him, especially one who's a master of Dark Magic, possibly gain its approval?

Are we suggesting he dress as a woman? Should we borrow a dress from Phoebe?

The more he thought about it, the more outrageous it seemed, so he simply went into the Study Space to find the two old men.

As soon as they entered, Andros and Gellert Grindelwald's eyes lit up.

Bloodline fusion—how many wizards have died at this step? This kid treats it like child's play?

"It seems the training can be intensified," Andros chuckled.

"Agreed." Gellert Grindelwald nodded. "How can we beat Albus Dumbledore without trying?"

"Gentlemen, let's not talk about training yet." Tom quickly explained the unicorn mission, "How do we get this thing?"

Andros paused for a moment. "This is harder than killing the fire dragon."

"I know."

"Unicorns only gravitate towards pure people, and you," Andros paused, "You've killed someone."

"I know."

"So what do you plan to do?"

Tom thought for a moment. "I don't know, but I'll give it a try."

Gellert Grindelwald's voice rang out as well. "Kill a unicorn, then use the Imperius Curse to control it completely."

Tom was taken aback. "What?"

"Kill a unicorn, use the Imperius Curse to make it obey you, and it will follow you, won't it?"

"Mr. Grindelwald, that's 'control,' not 'approval.' The system says 'approval and following.'"

Tom's face darkened. "Do you think I haven't heard about your dark history of controlling the Qilin? What I want is recognition, not a puppet."

"Is there a difference?" Gellert Grindelwald's face immediately darkened. You don't hit someone in the face, and you don't insult someone by revealing their weaknesses. This kid always hits where it hurts.

"Yes, one was voluntary, and the other was forced."

Gellert Grindelwald snorted. "Then go find a unicorn, stand in front of it, and wait for its approval. See if it approves of you then."

Tom didn't speak, but looked at Andros, placing his last hope in him.

Andros interjected, "You can beat it. If it doesn't submit after one beating, you can beat it until it submits."

Tom rubbed his temples. "You two, one a Dark Lord, the other a brute. Don't you have any normal ideas?" With these two around, the Wizarding World is doomed.

The two old men fell silent at the same time.

Tom sighed, walked to the open space, took out his wand, and waved it at a distant rock.

A beam of silver light shot out from the tip of the staff, struck the stone, and shattered it, scattering fragments everywhere.

A glint of gold was mixed in with the silver light; it wasn't the color of magic, but rather the power of a dragon.

Gellert Grindelwald's voice rang out. "Your spell carries the power of dragons."

"I've found it."

"The dragon's might can intimidate those with weak wills. Unicorns are unaffected by the dragon's might, but other animals will fear you."

"Then what should we do?"

"Conceal your power. Keep your magic hidden, don't let the dragon's might leak out."

Tom closed his eyes, trying to control the magic within him. Dragon blood flowed in his veins like a dark red river.

He tried to slow the river down, making it flow more slowly. Magic danced at his fingertips, and the golden light gradually faded until it disappeared.

He opened his eyes, waved his wand, and silver light shot from the tip, striking another stone.

The stone cracked, but didn't explode. The power was reduced, and the dragon's might was gone.

"That's enough," Gellert Grindelwald said. "Keep it like this."