Fiendfyre and Firestorm

The Box World, a vast training ground for magic.

Lucien flicked his wand, and a crimson flame emerged from the tip, followed by wisps of black smoke.

Fiendfyre Dark Magic, but it can also be categorized as fire magic.

Lucien could naturally enhance his control over Fiendfyre through fire elemental runes, but because of Fiendfyre's soul-scorching nature, it was more violent and difficult to control than ordinary magical flames.

With the help of the tips and instructions in the little notebook Grindelwald gave him, Lucien quickly subdued the regular Fiendfyre.

The crimson flames danced at the tip of the staff, still radiating a dangerous restlessness, but they were now able to move according to his will, tracing simple paths in the air with ease, at least unlike some wizards who would play with fire and burn themselves.

"Next is..."

Using his unique method, Lucien lightly tapped his wand, altering the flow of magic.

"Laugh--"

A faint blue light ignited at the center of the flame.

The moment that blue light appeared, Fiendfyre, who had been relatively obedient, suddenly became agitated.

The crimson Fiendfyre on the outer perimeter trembled and rapidly shrank, but instead of dissipating, they compressed inward, as if being absorbed by the Blue Fiendfyre at the center.

As the crimson Fiendfyre contracted, the Blue Fiendfyre expanded at a visible rate, rapidly growing from a small dot to the size of a fist...

Lucien felt his control rapidly slipping away; the ball of Blue Fiendfyre was like an unruly wild horse, struggling wildly under his magical reins.

Without hesitation, following the instructions in the notebook, I waved my wand and extinguished the Fiendfyre.

"It's really hard to control."

Lucien rubbed his wrist, looking at the spot where the flames had just been, where even the ground had been burned with cracks.

He suddenly thought of something.

How about we try using Firestorm?

The fire manipulation magic that Dumbledore taught him, "Vulcan 'Firestorm," inherently grants him powerful control over fire.

Lucien raised his wand again and summoned Fiendfyre once more. This time, the Fiendfyre was steady, its crimson flames burning quietly at the tip of the wand, like a tamed beast.

He used the Firestorm and envelop the flames, then began to channel magic.

A touch of dark blue reappeared.

Unlike before, this time, Lucien could clearly feel that the blue color was firmly bound by the power of the Firestorm.

The power of the Firestorm acts like an invisible net, enveloping the Fiendfyre and suppressing its restless power within a controllable range.

The Blue Fiendfyre burned, though not as violent as before, but the terrifying heat they contained could still be felt.

Lucien stared at the flame, Grindelwald's instructions echoing in his mind—to visit that person, he needed some token of identity. The unique Blue Fiendfyre was the best proof.

He tapped his wand lightly, and the ball of Blue Fiendfyre slowly spun in the air, like a tamed star.

France, the Bastille Prison.

Throughout Muggle history, many stories have unfolded here—riots, uprisings, and confrontations between prisoners and rulers. Deeper underground lies a prison belonging to the wizarding world.

The lowest level, the largest in area, is where only the most vicious criminals are imprisoned. However, there are very few cells here, only a handful.

One of the cells was nothing like a prison. It was elegant and quiet, with several paintings on the walls, a hand-woven carpet on the floor, and even a soft sofa.

An elderly woman with a full head of white hair sat on the sofa. Her face was etched with the marks of time, but her back was ramrod straight, like an old tree that had weathered countless storms. Her gaze was calmly fixed on the person opposite her, and her voice, neither loud nor soft, carried an unwavering firmness.

Laurent, I told you I wouldn't go out.