manynovel Chapter 218 The Hearth and the Way Home
Chapter 218 The Hearth and the Way Home
Chapter 218 The Hearth and the Way Home
The intense soul research was like walking a tightrope of the mind, lasting for more than a week. Even with the support of Nico and Castor, Karen felt obvious fatigue, a deep-seated weariness caused by being washed away by cold malice and complex energy information.
A faint bluish shadow hung under his eyes. Although his mind remained focused, Nico keenly sensed that his disciple needed to catch his breath.
That morning, after another round of discussions on optimizing the compass's core energy path, Nico didn't immediately assign new tasks as usual. He gently patted Karen on the shoulder, his tone leaving no room for argument: "Karen, the first phase of basic observation and core improvements is complete. Further optimization of the compass requires Castor and me to conduct more fundamental rune deductions. I think you need to leave here temporarily, leave these cold things behind. You've been using your talent to observe these dark and evil creations like Horcruxes for a long time; now it's time to let the sunlight and the hearth warm your soul."
Karen was taken aback and subconsciously looked at the lead box on the stone platform that still exuded an invisible pressure.
“Go home,” Nico said, his eyes filled with the concern of an elder. “Go back to Plymouth, back to your parents and Lily. Spend a few days with them, see the sea, or just sleep in. A true alchemist needs to understand the warmth of life to better wield those cold laws of creation. A taut string will eventually snap.” He paused, then added, “And don’t forget you promised Lily you’d tell her your story from school.”
Home. The sea breeze of Plymouth, the familiar smell of machine oil from his father David's toolbox, the aroma of his mother Emily's baked bread, and the warm image of his sister Lily's chattering laughter instantly dispelled the coldness of the stone chamber. Karen's tense nerves unconsciously relaxed, and a strong sense of longing welled up in his heart. He really needed this.
"Yes, Professor Nico." Karen didn't refuse; he truly felt exhausted, not only physically but also mentally. He needed the warmth of his family to wash away the chill that had settled over him these past few days.
"Casto will take you back." Nicole looked at the silent man beside her.
Castor nodded slightly, saying nothing more. He took off the dark robe he wore in the alchemy workshop and put on a well-tailored dark gray Muggle overcoat, making him appear low-key and capable, completely isolated from the magical world.
Leaving the cold, dark underground stone chamber and basking once more in the warm sunlight of the "Tranquil Abode" courtyard, Karen took a deep breath of the air, filled with the scent of grass and flowers, as if she had been reborn. Nicole and Mrs. Perenel saw her off at the door.
"Give my regards to your parents and lovely Lily, Karen." Mrs. Perenel handed Karen a basket full of homemade treats with a warm smile. "Inside are your mother's favorite lavender cookies, a walnut pie for your father, and a color-changing magic cupcake for Lily."
"Thank you, Mrs. Perenel." Karen gratefully accepted the basket.
Nico handed him a small, sealed alchemical box: "This contains the latest data backup on 'Dragon Skin Low-Temperature Activity' and 'Environmental Energy Absorption' from your research on protective badges, along with some of my annotations. You can look at it in your spare time, but don't overthink it. Get some rest."
"I will, Professor Nico." Karen carefully put it away.
Without using Floo Powder to stun her or pulling on the Portkey, Castor led Karen to an inconspicuous stone house on the edge of the manor. Inside was the black sedan that had brought Karen there.
"Teacher, are you driving? I mean, we're not going through the FlooNet, are we?" Karen sat in the passenger seat, fastened his seatbelt, and couldn't help but ask the same question he'd had before. In his memory, Castor, while not prejudiced against Muggle things, had never shown any particular interest, let alone mastered the skill of driving.
Castor started the car, the engine emitting a deep, steady roar. He skillfully maneuvered the steering wheel, driving away from the estate and merging onto the French country roads. Outside the window, fields rushed past, dotted with farmhouses.
"During my recuperation at the 'Quiet Abode,' when I couldn't freely use magic for intensive research," Castor said, his voice calm and even, as if stating an objective fact, "I always needed something to keep my mind sharp and focused. Observing the Muggle world and studying their creations, which achieve astonishing efficiency without relying on magic, was—a good form of mental training." He glanced at the dashboard and the rapidly receding scenery outside the window. "Their machines are logically clear and governed by well-defined rules. Step on the gas, gain thrust; turn the steering wheel, change direction. Every step has a clear chain of cause and effect. This has a strange commonality with our pursuit of precise control over magical power—understanding the rules and then mastering them."
He paused, his tone carrying a barely perceptible, almost academic, interest: "Especially their transportation system. A complex network of roads, with hundreds of millions of individuals moving through it, maintaining order and efficiency through a set of clear symbols, rules, and instantaneous feedback. This in itself is a vast, dynamic, non-magical model of 'mass magic.' Observing how it operates, how it breaks down, and how it rebuilds order from chaos provides a better understanding of the essence of 'rules' and 'control' than reading many magic books."
Karen listened with some surprise. He had never imagined that his teacher would view the Muggle world from this perspective. It wasn't about personal preference; it was more like a top magician's calm analysis of a completely different yet self-contained system of "power operation." This deepened his understanding of Castor—his strength lay not only in magic but also in this transcendent, insightful way of thinking.
The car cruised smoothly along the highway. Away from the chill of the Horcruxes and the tension of the research, Karen leaned back in his seat, watching the ever-changing scenery outside the window, feeling a long-lost sense of relaxation. Sunlight streamed through the car window, warm and comforting. Just as he was about to take a short nap, Castor's voice rang out again, deep and clear, like a pebble dropped into still water:
"Karen, you learned the Fiendfyre spell when you were preparing contingency plans against the Basilisk."
Karen immediately snapped out of his daze and sat up straight. "Yes, Master. The situation is critical. I need a spell that can truly kill him as a backup plan, and the notes you gave me before contained information on how to learn the Fiendfyre spell." He briefly explained the situation.
Castor nodded slightly, seemingly unsurprised and without any intention of reproach. "The Fiendfyre spell—most wizards pursue its destructive power and uncontrollability, viewing it as a purely destructive force." His fingers tapped lightly on the steering wheel, as if silently grasping the essence of magic. "But in the Grindelwald family's inherited understanding, the true core of Fiendfyre's power lies not in what it can burn, but in what the caster's 'will' can shape it into, and the 'absolute control' over its burning trajectory."
His words, like a cold carving knife, precisely cut into the core of magic: "Flame is merely an extension of will. Fiendfire is dangerous because it greedily devours magic, amplifies the spellcaster's inner desires, and transforms them into a destructive entity. Controlling it is not about suppression, but guidance. With your unwavering will, construct channels for this flood of destruction, pointing it in the right direction. Let it burn what you want to burn, and when you need it to stop, your will must be able to, like the strongest dam, instantly cut off the flood of magic, commanding it to extinguish. If you cannot do this, even the most powerful flame is merely a beast that will turn on itself at any moment."
"True control," Castor's voice held an almost cold expectation, "requires not a vast accumulation of magical power, but a high degree of mental concentration and absolute mastery over one's own will. Some powerful beings can even briefly imbue Fiendfire with 'intelligence' and control its form."
He withdrew his gaze and looked back at the road ahead: "This summer, after you've dealt with your necessary family matters and recovered your mental state, I will teach you how to truly 'shape' and 'control' Fiendfire. Transform it from a dangerous, instinctive weapon into a tool that extends your will and functions as you see fit. Of course, the practice area will only be at the Quiet Abode; I will provide you with a suitable practice space."
Karen's heart skipped a beat. Not from fear, but from a mixture of excitement and trepidation at the prospect of facing a higher form of magic. Willpower shaping! Absolute control! This was drastically different from the traditional approach of maximizing power, brimming with Grindelwald's philosophy and aesthetics of strength. Was the powerful figure her teacher mentioned referring to a Fiendfyre caster like Gellert?
"Yes, teacher! I understand!" Karen's voice was filled with barely suppressed excitement and solemnity.
As the journey continued, Karen fell into deep thought. Castor's words echoed repeatedly in his mind—about will, about control, about the split between destruction and creation. The scenery outside the window flew by, but his heart seemed already immersed in the mystery of that invisible flame.
Karen snapped back to reality as the familiar scent of Plymouth Harbor mingled with the salty sea breeze flooded the car window. The car came to a smooth stop in front of the Hawthorne family's cozy white house.
"We've arrived." Castor's voice pulled him back to reality.
Karen got out of the car carrying a basket of pastries and a gilded box. Castor didn't get out, but rolled down the window: "I'll pick you up in a week. Keep in touch." His gaze swept over the small building with a barely perceptible scrutiny, as if confirming the safety of the surroundings, then he nodded to Karen.
"Thank you, teacher. Please take care on your journey," Karen said respectfully.
The black sedan drove away silently, merging into the traffic. The teacher's driving skills had indeed surprised Karen. Karen turned around, looking at her familiar front door, her heart filled with warmth. She had just stepped onto the stairs when the door was suddenly flung open!
"Karen!" Lily rushed out like a little rabbit, her face full of surprise, and buried her head in Karen's arms. "You're back! Where's Grandpa Nico's cake? You promised to tell me the story of the castle!" Her little hands were already reaching for the basket in Karen's hands.
"Lily!" Her mother Emily's voice, tinged with amusement and a hint of reproach, came from inside. She hurried out, apron still tied around her neck, her face beaming with undisguised joy and longing. She looked Karen up and down, touching his cheek. "You've lost some weight, and grown taller. Come in, are you tired? How are Master Nico and Mrs. Perenel?"
"Mom, I'm fine. They're all fine too. Mrs. Perenel even brought you some snacks." Karen smiled, letting her mother's warm palm brush her face, and bent down to pick up her excited little sister.
"Hey! You little rascal, finally you know how to come home!" David's hearty voice rang out. He was wearing work clothes stained with a little oil, peeking out from the garage next to the house, a wrench in his hand—clearly he'd been tinkering with his mechanical gadgets again. He strode over, patted Karen on the shoulder forcefully, his eyes filled with satisfaction and pride. "Was France fun? Did you cause Mr. Nico and the others any trouble? Your mother's been nagging you for days!"
"Dad!" Karen smiled as he accepted his father's strong slap. "I didn't cause any trouble, and I even learned a lot of new things." He temporarily put aside things like Horcruxes and Fiendfire, enjoying the familiar smell of engine oil on his father's hands, the warm fragrance of his mother, and the excited wriggling of his little sister in his arms.
Emily took the basket of pastries and gave David a reproachful look: "Go wash your hands, they're filthy! Karen just got back, don't get your grease on him. Karen, come inside, are you hungry? I baked you your favorite scones."
"That's wonderful, Mom! Although Madame Perenel's pastries are delicious in France, I still miss your scones the most," Karen said sincerely, carrying Lily into the house filled with the aroma of bread and a warm atmosphere.
David chuckled and turned to wash his hands. Emily, meanwhile, began preparing refreshments, asking curiously, "By the way, Karen, about that protective badge you mentioned in your last letter, saying its energy is more stable at low temperatures? I put the badge you gave me next to the fridge the other day, and it really does feel a bit different? What's the principle behind that?"
Karen put Lily down, watching his mother's curious gaze and his father's approaching figure, hands rubbing together. Feeling the warm glow of the flickering firelight in the fireplace, the last trace of the chill brought on by his research was completely dispelled. He smiled easily and sincerely: "Well, it's a long story. It's related to the magical properties of dragon skin and an ancient rune called 'Stagnation.'" The warmth of home, like the most solid anchor, firmly anchored his returning heart.