Chapter One Hundred: Grindelwald, Vinda, and Credence

“Oh? I don’t believe I’ve met this young gentleman before.” Hearing the call from Xiwen, Grindelwald seemed to have just noticed him, shifting his gaze toward the young man. “Let me have a look—who might you be?”

A white halo suddenly appeared in Grindelwald’s bright blue right eye, instantly giving it an eerie, otherworldly glow.

Grindelwald stared at Xiwen with those uncanny eyes, his expression utterly indifferent.

As he appraised Xiwen, Grindelwald’s look shifted from disdain to a more serious demeanor, finally revealing a trace of surprise.

“Young wizard, are you truly standing before me?” he asked, a playful smirk curling his lips.

Xiwen’s face fell, alarmed and uncertain about what Grindelwald might have discerned.

He vaguely recalled hearing similar words once before in the Ravenclaw common room—from a strange girl named Trelawney, who had said, “I can’t see you clearly!”

At the time, Xiwen had paid little attention, as if the matter had passed without consequence.

Yet today, Grindelwald’s question shattered his self-deception. After all, the formidable Dark Lord would have no reason to toy with a mere young wizard.

Before Xiwen could respond, Grindelwald turned away and addressed the woman following him. “Veda, this young wizard is entrusted to you. I believe it’s necessary for you to make his acquaintance.”

“Veda?” Xiwen looked toward the brown-haired woman who nodded to Grindelwald and approached with poised, deliberate steps. Suddenly, realization dawned. “Are you the Veda from the French branch who has aligned herself with Grindelwald?”

“Ah, so you must be the last male heir of the Rozier family’s younger generation—Xiwen Rozier,” Veda said with a soft laugh. “I believe this is the first time we’ve met, my nephew.”

‘I certainly didn’t want to meet you under these circumstances...’ Xiwen bit his lip, murmuring inwardly.

He glanced sideways at Grindelwald, who had leisurely turned his back, indifferent to their exchange. Then, locking eyes with Veda, he asked the question burning in his mind: “Is your allegiance to Grindelwald a personal decision, or does the entire French branch of the Rozier family support it?”

“Hmm? What are you hoping for, my dear nephew?” Veda smirked, a hint of mockery in her tone. “Lord Grindelwald’s ideals have long been backed by our family’s investments. My actions have been tacitly approved within the family.”

“Of course, if your goal is to inherit the French branch’s estate, then serving under his banner is your only path,” she said, stepping closer and whispering seductively into Xiwen’s ear. “Think carefully about it, my nephew.”

Xiwen’s expression darkened. He hadn’t expected that the entire French branch of the Rozier family tacitly approved of Aunt Veda’s alliance with Grindelwald.

‘Perhaps they see it merely as an investment...’ he thought gloomily.

Lowering his head in feigned contemplation, Xiwen subtly slipped his hand into his coat pocket, concealed by the angle of his body.

“Scarlet Radiance!”
“Ascending Might!”

Xiwen suddenly drew his wand and shouted.

However, Veda seemed well prepared. She casually fired a white light that dispersed Xiwen’s spells midair.

“I’d advise you to keep your little tricks to a minimum, nephew,” she sneered. “Do you really think that just because you’re the Rozier heir, I won’t do anything to you?”

“Or perhaps you’re overly confident in your reinforcements? Let me guess—you’re counting on that pest Newt Scamander to come to your rescue?” Veda said with a mocking smile. “Maybe that magizoologist is struggling to survive himself!”

...

Meanwhile, a drenched Newt had just climbed ashore, a satisfied smile on his face.

His suitcase now contained a new aquatic magical creature, for which he had specially created a fresh river environment inside.

But before Newt could revel in his success, an unexpected visitor blocked his path.

It was a man with a somewhat dull expression, his unkempt black hair falling loosely over his shoulders.

“Credence? What are you doing here?” Newt asked, startled and puzzled.

Credence ignored his question, drawing a black wand and suddenly unleashing a powerful shockwave toward Newt.

Newt scrambled to the side, barely dodging the attack.

“Credence, Grindelwald is using you—don’t be fooled!” Newt shouted, erecting a protective barrier before himself.

Yet Credence seemed deaf to his words. His body transformed into a black mist, like a swarm of furious killer bees, instantly tearing through Newt’s shield and blasting him toward the riverbank.

Newt struggled to retrieve his suitcase, which had been knocked aside, but his body was numb with pain, unable to move quickly.

*The Advent of Heaven*

Credence approached Newt, his eyes flickering with inner conflict, hesitating whether to finish him off.

At that critical moment, unbeknownst to Credence, a leather buckle on Newt’s suitcase had snapped loose during the impact.

From the gap, a small webbed foot—resembling that of a duckling—slipped out, expertly unfastening another buckle.

“Chirp chirp!” Sniffles, the teddy-like creature, called softly from within the suitcase.

Then, a small winged bird with delicate wings emerged, stretching its tail to envelop Newt and the suitcase.

Sensing danger, Credence raised his wand, gathering a surge of powerful magic.

Before he could unleash it, another creature shot out from the suitcase—a silver British Shorthair kitten!

The kitten leapt onto the winged bird’s back.

In an instant, all the magical creatures, Newt, and his suitcase vanished from the spot.

Credence’s attack struck the Seine River, sending a towering splash of water soaring dozens of feet high...

When Newt, the kitten, and the winged bird reappeared, they were on the ancient Montmorency Street.

Weakly, Newt pulled a golden card from his pocket and entered Lemaire’s safe house.

“Lemaire!”
“Rozier!”

He called out loudly inside the house, but there was no response.

Newt’s face darkened as he quickly stepped back out through the wooden door.

“Kitten, if you understand me, I need your help!” he said in a low voice to the kitten crouched atop the winged bird.

...

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