[Heaven–Earth Synergy: Black magic and white magic must advance together, neither may fall behind.
Master one, and the other will rise to match it.]
This trait didn't strengthen bloodline, soul, or raw spellpower. It did one thing, erase weaknesses. Whatever Tom's weakest branch of magic was, this talent would drag it upward until it matched his strongest.
No more uneven growth. No more worrying that the darkness would swallow him.
Before today, he had been cautious about learning too much black magic, wary of ending up like Voldemort, brilliant but warped, a man who rejected "ordinary" spells as beneath him.
Grindelwald, on the other hand, wielded both sides freely. His black magic enhanced his normal magic. His mind remained coherent, his ambition frighteningly logical.
Now Tom could walk the same path, but easier.
When Tom explained, both Grindelwald and Andros fell silent. Grindelwald's eyes actually reddened.
"You little brat… do you have any idea… how much suffering I endured to keep my mind intact? Do you know what I sacrificed just to remain sane?!"
Tom blinked. "…so… it means you can endure hardship?"
Grindelwald slammed the table and stood up instantly.
"Fight me right now."
Only an idiot would duel a Black Mage in a rage. Tom politely exited the learning space.
He still had work to do. The meal wasn't cooked yet, no celebrating until he devoured the whole prize.
And anything involving magical creatures meant one person:
Newt Scamander.
Tom opened WhatsApp.
[Tom: Big help needed, Master Newt. You online?]
[Newt: ?]
[Newt: What happened?]
[Tom: I'm about to get stronger again.]
In New York, Newt paused mid-breakfast. Then:
[Newt: Like last time with the thunderbird?]
[Tom: Exactly.]
[Newt: But you said you were stuck waiting for the Merlin medal, ]
[Tom: Different quest. I already finished one. Basilisk.]
Newt froze.
This boy casually acquired life's rarest achievements like a teenager collecting trading cards.
[Newt: Fine. What creature this time?]
[Tom: Niffler. I need everything you know.]
Of course Tom recognized the magical national treasure, he just didn't know enough. Low fertility rate, strict restrictions, barely a few available per region…
But Newt's response shocked him.
[Newt: …Eat.]
Tom stared.
[Tom: …You're joking?]
[Newt: No.]
Only then did Tom learn the horror.
Nifflers spent half their day eating, the other half sleeping.
Sleep. Eat. Sleep. Eat.
A lifestyle that many humans only dreamed of.
And they ate, a lot.
Daily food intake: 10% to 20% of body weight.
Wild adult Nifflers weighed around 80 kg.
Meaning Tom would have to eat 20 to 35 pounds of food to beat one at its "specialty."
Even with dragon blood, Tom was not an industrial meat grinder.
Newt, beginning to worry, asked:
[Newt: What exactly is your challenge?]
[Tom: Tame a Niffler and beat it in its strongest domain.]
Newt nearly spat out his drink.
[Newt: What kind of bizarre quest is that?!]
He thought more, then froze again.
[Newt: …Did you say "tame a Niffler"?]
[Tom: Yes. That's the prerequisite. Just help me pass that part first.]
[Newt: Tom. That's illegal.]
Nifflers were more tightly regulated than dragons. Trading one without government approval was grounds for arrest.
Tom's reply came instantly:
[Tom: Sir… in your suitcase… the illegal contents could fill a library-sized WhatsApp history, yes?]
[Tom: I'm not asking you to poach anything… just to relocate some lonely creatures to a warm, loving home.]
Across the ocean, Newt stared at his screen.
For a brief, dangerous moment, he actually pictured Tom's expression as soft, innocent, full of hope…
The world's greatest pacifist and magical conservationist nearly became an accomplice.
And that scared him more than Fiendfyre ever could.