After the internet was disconnected, I connected to the magic world.

Grindelwald quickly grasped the core of this meditation method.

This is a book on calming the mind.

The wizards of the Western Continent derive their power entirely from the bloodline of magical beasts; the ferocity of these beasts is integrated into their blood along with their magic.

The initial bloodline fusion is a fierce shock to the spirit, triggering various negative emotions. If one is not careful, it can lead to mutations in one's bloodline.

This meditation method teaches you to maintain a clear mind and keep your heart at peace.

Guide the raging bloodline power to slowly merge with the body, fundamentally reducing the risk of being devoured by bestiality.

The moment he understood, Greenleaf broke out in a cold sweat.

No wonder McGonagall said before that most people who choose tiger or wolf blood are crazy; those people only see the power that bloodlines bring.

He didn't see the cannibalistic ferocity hidden beneath the power. If he had chosen wolf blood out of greed for power...

It's probably turned into a monster that only knows how to bite people now.

He didn't linger any longer and sat cross-legged on the stone bed covered with animal hides.

After drinking the bloodline potion, his mind entered a meditative state.

I had only been meditating for less than half a minute when a jumble of noises suddenly rang in my ears.

"Kill him!"

A chilling voice whispered in his ear, and an image flashed before his eyes of McGonagall cutting his fingertip with a scalpel.

His eyes were full of contempt for the experimental subjects.

"He never treated you like a human being, only like a dog that he could discard at any time. Now that you have power, why don't you kill him?"

Kill him, and all the spellbooks and potions in Blackrock Castle are yours!

Then more voices came up: the sinister smiles of robbers who were robbed in South America in real life.

It was his relatives mocking him for not doing his proper job as a travel anchor.

It was the foul language from trolls in the live stream who called him a beggar...

Countless negative emotions surged in like a tide: anger, resentment, violence, and jealousy.

All his emotions were urging him to open his eyes, kill McGonagall, kill everyone who looked down on him, and burn down this damned castle.

Grindelwald's eyes instantly turned red, and magic uncontrollably emanated from his fingertips, causing the temperature to rise higher and higher, and even the animal hide beneath him began to smoke.

But after all, he has been in the workforce for almost ten years and has seen the coldness and warmth of human relationships. How could he be so easily blinded by emotions?

He bit his tongue, wincing in pain, but his mind cleared instantly. He repeated to himself over and over:

"I am Grindelwald, not a monster controlled by bestiality."

"If I kill McGonagall, I'll be nothing but dust and ashes at the hands of the other wizards in the castle."

He followed the steps of meditation, gradually suppressing the negative emotions that surged up.

Like suppressing a wild beast that wanted to break free of its cage, no matter how the voices clamored, his mind remained as steady as a rock.

He didn't know how much time had passed, but the chaotic sounds finally receded like a tide, and his mind became clear.

Just then, he suddenly "saw" several broken red lines floating in his sea of ​​consciousness.

The lines were crooked and broken into several pieces, making it impossible to piece together a complete shape; they looked like a painting that had been torn up and thrown on the ground.

Grindelwald's heart skipped a beat; he instinctively knew that this was the fire rune that constituted the most fundamental element of fire power.

The complete fire runes contain all the principles of fire from its birth to its extinction.

It is part of the rules of the world.

What he saw was merely a tiny remnant of the Firefeather Crimson Sparrow's bloodline, lacking even a fraction of its essence.

Instead of rushing to force the lines together, he closed his eyes and recalled all the fires he had ever seen in his life.

Fire is not only about destruction, but also about warmth and light.

Using his mental strength as a pen, he meticulously copied and filled in the incomplete lines.

He gradually added his understanding of fire, and finally drew a simple, crooked pattern in his mind.

The moment the pattern took shape, a tiny flame, the size of a soybean, suddenly appeared at his fingertip.

It swayed, yet remained perfectly steady; it was entirely his power.

When Grindelwald opened his eyes, he immediately noticed that something was wrong with his body.

He moved his legs, and the mage's robe that had been fitting him was now a bit too short. When he stood up and looked in the bronze mirror, he realized that his original height of 1.78 meters had increased to more than 1.82 meters.

His wheat-colored skin, tanned from years of being outdoors, had lightened a shade, and the muscles beneath it were smooth and firm.

It has lines as powerful as a cheetah, without exaggerated size.

His forehead was covered in cold sweat. He wiped it away and noticed that his originally dark brown hair had been dyed a light layer of fiery red at the ends, which was barely noticeable unless you looked closely.

His facial features were a little more defined, his brow bones were slightly raised, and from a distance he had a sharp, bird-like appearance, but he still looked like a normal person and had not turned into a monster.

The most obvious change is in the eyes; the originally light brown pupils have turned into a clear, fiery red, with vertical pupils like those of birds.

It's only noticeable in dim light; otherwise, they look much like ordinary people.

He suddenly felt an itch on his shoulder and back. He rubbed his mage robe and touched it. There was a tuft of fine, soft, fiery red down on his shoulder armor.

Its feathers are exactly the same as those of the Firefly, and they feel warm to the touch.

Instead of panicking, Greenley breathed a sigh of relief.

He had heard from an old servant in the castle that the most despised thing about wizards was their alienation.

The blood of a particular magical beast will influence the characteristics of that beast when fused with its blood; the higher the cultivation level, the more pronounced the mutation.

The first tier only involves growing a little more fur and changing the pupil size. By the second and third tiers, they either grow wings and claws or scales and tails.

Some even grew bird beaks and animal ears, looking like orcs.

Moreover, advancing as a bloodline wizard is extremely difficult; one must possess a lost blood refining technique to continuously purify the blood.

Alternatively, one can only advance by devouring the bloodlines of higher-level magical beasts of the same attribute. The more types of bloodlines one devours, the more diverse the magical beast characteristics one will possess.

In the end, they become neither human nor ghost, and even their sanity is devoured by their bestial nature.

His degree of alienation is ridiculously mild, except for that tuft of downy hair and his red vertical pupils.

He was basically no different from a normal person, and a million times better than those wizards with wolf fur on their faces and six eyes.

"good."

The door was pushed open, and McGonagall walked in, originally to check on his bloodline fusion progress.

Upon seeing his appearance, his eyes lit up instantly, and he stroked his beard, nodding repeatedly.

"Good! Good! I have seen seven wizards who have fused with the bloodline of the Firefeather Red Sparrow."

"Either half your face grows red feathers, or bird claws grow on your hands—your level of mutation is practically natural wizard material!"

Grindelwald turned and bowed, making no attempt to conceal what he had heard during his meditation and what he had seen after suppressing his animalistic instincts—the incomplete red lines.

He told Mag everything about how he completed the rune, and even drew the rune on the stone table with charcoal.

McGonagall raised an eyebrow, picked up her wand, infused it with magic, and drew the rune in the air.

"Take off!"

A flame the size of a fist appeared out of nowhere, ten times larger than the one Greenleaf had unleashed, but it was just an ordinary flame.

McGonagall looked at the flame, then suddenly burst into laughter, her beard shaking with mirth.

"Good! Good! This is your innate rune! It's a rune that belongs only to you!"

"Most people who become wizards for the first time are unable to comprehend their own runes from their bloodline."

Only true geniuses can comprehend their innate rune as soon as they become wizards.

This rune will become increasingly powerful as your understanding of fire deepens.

He looked at Greenleydo, becoming more and more satisfied: "It was beneath you to take you in as a servant before."

From this day forward, you are my personal student, not some lowly servant.

I will teach you real magic, and you will have priority access to the resources in the castle.

Greenleado was secretly pleased. He knew McGonagall's temperament all too well. Although the old wizard had experimented on him, he never mistreated his own people.

They truly provide practical skills and teach abilities, which is a million times better than those politicians who only make empty promises.

Without the slightest hesitation, he knelt down with a thud and kowtowed deeply to McGonagall.

"This student greets the teacher! It is an honor for this student to learn magic from the teacher!"