The moment Lucien spoke his surname, he clearly saw Lucius Malfoy's pupils contract violently.
Grindelwald.
That single name carried far more weight than most people in Britain understood.
As a former Death Eater, Lucius knew exactly how terrifying a true Dark Lord could become. The wizarding world liked pretending Gellert Grindelwald had been defeated and imprisoned forever, but experienced people understood the truth.
If Grindelwald genuinely wanted freedom, no prison in the world could hold him.
Nurmengard was not a cage.
It was a compromise.
And now the heir of that man stood directly before him.
"It's an honour to meet you, Mr. Grindelwald."
Lucius lowered his posture immediately.
His voice became even more respectful than before.
Lucien merely smiled faintly.
"And you as well, Mr. Malfoy." He gestured calmly toward the manor grounds. "Perhaps you could continue showing us the property."
"Of course."
Lucius responded without hesitation.
From that point onward, his attitude changed noticeably.
At first, he assumed Vinda Rosier would be the true decision-maker while Lucien merely accompanied her as a child. But after only a short conversation, Lucius realized he had misunderstood completely.
Vinda rarely interrupted.
Lucien controlled the discussion entirely.
Whether they discussed magical protections, transportation routes, estate structure, hidden chambers, or future modifications, Lucien spoke with astonishing composure and insight far beyond his age.
The more Lucius observed him, the more shocked he became.
Then he glanced at Draco—
who was currently talking nonstop about Quidditch.
Lucius immediately felt an overwhelming sense of disappointment.
Both boys were eleven years old.
Why was the difference this enormous?
Meanwhile, Draco himself was thrilled.
This was the first time he had ever interacted naturally with someone his own age who possessed equal status and pedigree. Most children around him either flattered him endlessly or acted too intimidated to speak properly.
But Lucien was different.
Not only did he remain calm, he somehow made Draco feel as though they were speaking as equals.
"Do you fly often?" Draco asked excitedly while following beside him. "My father says I'm already better than some second-years."
Lucien chuckled softly.
"I fly occasionally."
"Do you have your own broom?"
"Yes."
"What model?"
"A Firebolt."
Draco froze.
"…What?"
Lucien calmly continued walking.
Draco stared at him in complete disbelief for several seconds before immediately rushing after him again.
"That's impossible! Firebolts aren't even available yet!"
Lucien's lips twitched slightly.
"…Prototype."
Draco looked even more stunned.
Lucius silently closed his eyes for a moment.
His son had been completely crushed without even realizing it.
After nearly an hour of touring the estate, Lucius finally stopped near the central courtyard.
"What do you think, Mr. Grindelwald?"
Lucien glanced around calmly.
The manor was elegant, spacious, and heavily warded. More importantly, it offered enough isolated space for magical experimentation and future Saint Group operations.
For now, it was more than sufficient.
"Not bad."
Then he turned toward Vinda.
"What do you think, Aunt Vinda?"
"If you like it, then we'll take it."
Vinda spoke decisively.
"I already brought the necessary Galleons. The contract can be signed immediately."
Lucius reacted quickly and immediately produced the magical contract documents.
Within minutes, the manor officially changed ownership.
As the final signatures settled onto the parchment, Lucius quietly exhaled in relief.
Building a relationship with the Grindelwald heir would undoubtedly benefit the Malfoy family in the future.
Especially now that the wizarding world was becoming increasingly unstable.
"It's getting late," Lucius said politely after finishing the paperwork. "We won't disturb your rest any longer."
He glanced toward Draco.
"Come along."
The blond boy's face instantly fell.
Clearly, he had no desire to leave yet.
Just as Lucius prepared to take him away, Lucien suddenly spoke.
"Mr. Malfoy."
Lucius paused immediately.
Lucien noticed Draco's obvious reluctance and smiled faintly.
"I heard Draco mention that you're going to Diagon Alley tomorrow." His tone remained casual and elegant. "If you don't mind, perhaps Draco could stay here tonight. We were planning to visit Diagon Alley tomorrow as well."
Draco's eyes lit up instantly.
"Father!"
He immediately grabbed Lucius's sleeve and shook it desperately.
"Please?"
Lucius originally intended to refuse.
Allowing his son to stay overnight at another family's estate after a first meeting was somewhat inappropriate. But after seeing Draco's hopeful expression—and considering who exactly Lucien was—he hesitated.
Eventually, he nodded slowly.
"Then I'll trouble Ms. Rosier and Mr. Grindelwald with his care."
Draco looked as though Christmas had arrived early.
"Remember your manners," Lucius warned sternly. "And don't cause trouble."
"I know, Father!"
Once Lucius finally departed, Draco's restrained personality immediately exploded outward.
Without his father nearby, he became dramatically more energetic.
Questions poured out endlessly.
"What subjects do you think are hardest?"
"Do you think first-years can join Quidditch teams?"
"My father says Potter's probably overrated."
"Do you think Slytherin's the best House too?"
Lucien spent nearly the entire evening listening patiently while Draco rambled nonstop.
By the time midnight approached, even Lucien looked slightly exhausted.
Vinda watched the scene from nearby with clear amusement hidden in her emerald eyes.
"This is the first time I've seen you spend so much time with someone your own age."
Lucien immediately rolled his eyes.
"You misunderstand."
Vinda raised one eyebrow.
"Oh?"
"I'm not interested in Draco personally," Lucien replied calmly. "Keeping him here is simply useful for entering Britain's pure-blood social circle."
"The Malfoys may not possess the cleanest reputation, but their influence among pure-blood families remains extremely high."
"And Lucius is smart enough to become valuable."
Vinda nodded slightly.
"Then why not approach Lucius directly?"
"Because Lucius is too clever."
Lucien's smile deepened faintly.
"People like him never trust others completely. Every sentence carries hidden calculations." He glanced toward the sleeping area upstairs. "Draco is different."
"He's still young."
"He hasn't learned real manipulation yet."
"And honestly…" Lucien chuckled softly. "He probably wouldn't realize he'd been sold until after the transaction finished."
…
After discussing plans for Diagon Alley with Vinda and exchanging goodnights, Lucien finally returned to his room.
The manor had fallen completely silent.
Only the distant sound of wind echoed faintly through the dark corridors.
Lucien lay back on the bed and opened the system interface.
The lottery panel slowly appeared before him once more.
"Now isn't the time to hoard points," he muttered quietly. "My talents are already maxed. Increasing combat ability quickly matters more."
"System."
"Begin lottery draw."
The moment he spoke, countless glowing card packs emerged around him and rotated slowly through the darkness.
The sight reminded him strongly of games from his previous life.
"Hearthstone all over again…"
Lucien casually selected five packs.
Then—
Golden light exploded outward.
His eyes widened slightly.
"Oh?"
That colour was familiar.
A legendary pull.
The system notifications rapidly appeared.
[Congratulations. You have obtained: Expulso (Level 3).]
[Congratulations. You have obtained: Serpensortia (Level 2).]
[Congratulations. You have obtained: Incendio (Level 2).]
[Congratulations. You have obtained: Locomotor Mortis (Level 1).]
[Congratulations. You have obtained Golden Reward: Occlumency (Level 7).]
[Current Remaining Achievement Points: 200.]
[Detected overlapping spell mastery. Merge available.]
Lucien's eyes immediately brightened.
"Merge."
The instant he confirmed, massive amounts of magical knowledge flooded violently into his mind.
Spell structures.
Casting habits.
Magical theory.
Combat applications.
It felt less like learning and more like someone forcefully hammering information directly into his brain.
[Host talent exceptional.]
[Spell comprehension exceeded expected level.]
[Serpensortia upgraded to Level 3.]
[Incendio upgraded to Level 3.]
[Locomotor Mortis upgraded to Level 3.]
Lucien slowly exhaled while absorbing the information.
"So that's how it works…"
Only now did he fully understand the system's merging function.
Spell rewards were not simply numerical upgrades.
They granted experience.
For example, receiving another Level 2 Incendio did not instantly raise the spell to Level 4 automatically. Instead, the system provided the equivalent magical knowledge and experience associated with that spell level.
His own talent determined how efficiently he absorbed it.
Which meant his decision to max every talent category first had absolutely been the correct choice.
"Good thing I focused on talents first," Lucien muttered thoughtfully. "Otherwise I'd be wasting half these rewards."
Then he glanced toward the golden reward notification again.
Occlumency.
His smile widened slightly.
Although it lacked direct offensive power, the importance of Occlumency could not be overstated. Against masters like Dumbledore or Voldemort, failing to protect one's mind was practically equivalent to walking naked into battle.
Even future duels would require resisting Legilimency and concealing combat intentions.
Saving years of training through the system made this reward incredibly valuable.
"At least I didn't pull something useless like Tarantallegra," Lucien muttered dryly. "That would've been tragic."
…
The next morning, Lucien had barely finished waking up when Vinda entered the dining room carrying several newspapers.
"The German and Austrian Ministries launched a joint operation last night," she said calmly. "Fortunately, our evacuation finished beforehand."
She placed a newspaper down in front of him.
"The Daily Prophet is already reporting on Nurmengard."
Lucien yawned lazily while skimming the article.
As expected, the paper described him as a dangerous dark wizard responsible for murdering multiple Aurors.
He chuckled softly.
"Without evidence, they can say whatever they want."
He folded the newspaper casually.
"The British Ministry can't throw me into Azkaban over rumours."
"Besides…" His lips curved faintly. "I'm only eleven years old."
"Who would seriously believe an eleven-year-old killed a dozen Aurors?"
Lucien had anticipated the Ministries reacting quickly, which was exactly why he ordered the Saint Group to relocate immediately.
And Britain was different.
This was Dumbledore's territory.
For all his flaws, Dumbledore remained someone who valued fairness and evidence. As long as Lucien avoided direct proof, Dumbledore would never allow him to be condemned unjustly.
Honestly, Lucien preferred dealing with someone principled.
A gentleman was far easier to manipulate than a monster without limits.
At that moment, footsteps echoed from upstairs.
Draco stumbled down the staircase while rubbing his sleepy eyes.
The conversation ended instantly.
Lucien smiled pleasantly.
"Get ready," he said calmly.
"We're going to Diagon Alley."