Kai Adler had no intention of explaining anything to him. After all, this was simply another function of Fiendfyre he had just remembered.
The Fiendfyre Curse was the most devastating of all fire-based magic—raging, wild, and notoriously difficult to control. Few wizards dared attempt any compound spells with it. Most who tried were either consumed by their own fire or saw their magic swallowed by the living blaze.
Only those with perfect control—those who could mold every ember—could bind other spells into the fire.
Grindelwald had once fused Fiendfyre with Legilimency during his operations in Paris: the flame would consume anyone found disloyal through mind-reading. It was legendary.
And if Grindelwald had managed it?
Then Kai Adler most certainly could.
For example—right now.
Jierke Ivo and the girl stood wrapped in the same pale flames. But while Jierke writhed and screamed, his body blistering and wracked with agony, the girl merely blinked in confusion.
The fire around her had shifted hues—it was no longer a deep ocean blue, but a light, sky-tinted azure, cool and clean like the air before dawn. It didn't even burn her clothes.
This was the reason Jierke wasn't instantly reduced to ash: the fire wasn't meant to kill him quickly. Kai wanted him to suffer.
He hadn't used this method at the start, of course—for the simplest of reasons.
He forgot.
He had once scoffed at this "tamed" form of Fiendfyre. What was the point of weakening the most destructive magical flame on purpose?
Now he understood.
Looking down at Jierke thrashing in agony, Kai thought—Would incinerating him in an instant be nearly as satisfying as this?
The girl, untouched in the flames. Jierke, shrieking beside her.
The contrast said everything.
Around them, the surviving Ivo Family wizards stood frozen, staring at Kai as if he were not human.
His gaze drifted over them, calm and cold.
He smiled.
"Your turn."
Screams erupted like a dam bursting.
By the time Sebastian Michaelis appeared behind Kai, carrying Ciel, he saw nothing but ash and fire.
The ground was littered with fallen men—every member of the Ivo Family was down, most of them badly burned. Some had fainted from pain. A few were still twitching.
Ahead, the Ivo Manor blazed like a funeral pyre. Its dark, towering silhouette cracked and collapsed amid the fire, burning centuries of corruption to the ground.
In the foreground stood the children, huddled together. Their young faces were tight with fear—not from the fire, but from him. From the boy who looked no older than them.
They had seen it all: the Ivo Family writhing and screaming, the mansion collapsing, and the flames obeying a single raised hand. They had seen his expressionless stare as people begged for mercy.
To them, Kai Adler was not a savior.
He was a demon.
All except one.
The girl—the hostage—stood untouched. The fire around her had faded. She no longer looked hollow. Her eyes, emerald-bright, were filled with wonder, even… adoration.
But Kai neither rejected nor welcomed it. Her admiration and the others' fear meant nothing.
This wasn't about reputation.
He had simply done what was right.
Hearing soft footsteps behind him, Kai turned.
Ciel Phantomhive stood with his butler, Sebastian, the flames reflected in his deep sapphire eyes. There was a flicker of pain in them—gone in an instant.
Kai gave a small, elegant bow.
"My Lord Count, was the performance satisfactory?"
The corners of Ciel's mouth tightened.
He gazed at the firelight, then at the broken Ivo Family groaning across the ground.
"A wonderful performance."
Ciel flicked a glance at Sebastian.
The butler vanished in a blur—a shadow streaking across the manor grounds at inhuman speed.
Moments later, Sebastian returned and bowed.
"Young Master. All children are unharmed. The Ivo Family members are severely injured. None are dead."
Kai gave a faint smile. "Then you can return to the British Crown with your report."
"Indeed. You have my gratitude."
Ciel's tone was formal, polite.
But to his surprise, Kai didn't let it end there.
"Since you're thanking me…" Kai said slowly, "Shouldn't there be something a bit more… substantial?"
Ciel blinked.
That wasn't what he'd expected.
Truthfully, this mission had benefitted both parties. Ciel had gained a report-worthy result for the Royal Family, while Kai had been given the intel he needed. Technically, both owed each other a debt—but in practice, the debt was mutual, balanced.
Without Ciel, Kai wouldn't have located the Ivo estate so easily. Without Kai, the operation wouldn't have ended so cleanly.
Ciel had planned to use this joint success to open deeper communication between them in future.
He hadn't expected Kai to settle accounts here and now.
"What sort of thing would Mr. Adler consider… substantial?" Ciel asked, eyes sharp and cautious.
Surely not…
"Actually," Kai said, slowly smiling, "When Hermione and I visited your manor earlier, she… praised it quite a bit. Said she loved it."
He left the implication hanging.
Ciel's expression darkened instantly.
…Fandomheim Manor?! You want my ancestral home?! Why not ask for the Crown Jewels while you're at it?!
A quiet chuckle escaped Sebastian beside him. Ciel's glare deepened.
"Fandomheim has belonged to my family for generations," he said coldly. "I cannot give it away—"
"No, no, Count," Kai cut in with a smile. "You misunderstand me."
"I don't want that manor. Just… one about the same."
Ciel's face went through disbelief, exasperation, and reluctant relief in under three seconds.
This boy was teasing him.
Ciel exhaled slowly.
"…That simple?"
"That simple." Kai nodded, innocent as a spring breeze.
It would be expensive, yes. But Ciel realized this was far better than the alternative. Buying the goodwill of someone like Kai Adler—with a manor—was more than reasonable.
And it revealed something else.
Kai could have seized everything the Ivo Family owned—their vaults, their gold, their smuggled fortunes. He hadn't.
He burned it all.
He refused to touch dirty money.
Which meant that despite his overwhelming power, he had unshakable principles.
Ciel appreciated that.
He also realized that this boy had known he'd need a favor from him. This wasn't impulsive—it was planned. Kai had noted Hermione's fondness for manors, guessed Ciel's need for assistance, and maneuvered the request accordingly.
Ciel respected that, too.
"I'll leave the clean-up to you," Kai said, turning back to the smoldering courtyard. "I'll erase their memories."
"Of course."
Kai walked among the fallen Ivo members, wand in hand, muttering "Obliviate" as he went.
He didn't erase their crimes, of course—only their memory of him.
When the Ministry of Magic eventually investigated, they'd know someone had done this—but they wouldn't know who.
At last, he reached Jierke.
The Ivo patriarch lay burned and barely breathing—but still awake.
"You… who are you… really…?" he croaked.
Kai smiled and raised his wand.
"Guess."
Jierke's body shook with rage and hatred.
Centuries of dominance—ruined by a teenager.
He thought of the Dark Lord, who'd once been feared throughout Europe… only to fall before a baby.
He'd laughed at the time.
Now he couldn't.
The Killing Curse… the boy resisted it. And he's powerful… stronger than anyone that young has the right to be…
A wild thought struck him like lightning.
"Wait… are you—Harry Potter?!"
"…Huh?"
For the first time that night, Kai's face cracked.
Harry Potter? Me?
Do I look like a reckless, near-sighted Gryffindor with a savior complex?!
And I'm not even British!
But Jierke's eyes gleamed with triumph.
"You must be Potter! Even if you're… Uh … it's Polyjuice! Right?! You must've used Polyjuice!"
Kai was dumbfounded.
Then… he grinned.
Oh, Old Dumbledore… you want the world to worship Harry Potter, right?
Fine. Let me give you the greatest PR gift imaginable.
He leaned in.
"Legilimency."
Jierke's eyes glazed.
"Obliviate."