Time drifted into November.
On a Saturday, Maurise was inside the Ship in a Bottle, conducting the evolution ritual for the final two skeletons.
"The world of the living has not yet forgotten you. The slumber of death is not your final chapter."
As the incantation ended, the magical energy within the circle surged fully into the two skeletons.
The moment the ritual concluded, the soul fire burning within their eye sockets grew significantly more solid, and the color of their bone frames visibly darkened. Aside from that, their outward appearance remained entirely unchanged.
However, Maurise knew that the total mana reserves within these two skeletons had multiplied several times over.
'Very good.'
After a final inspection, Maurise flicked his sleeve. The two skeletons vanished instantly, absorbed into his Undead Containment Array.
Currently, all fifty skeletons were neatly arranged in rows within the array.
Satisfied, he walked back to the living room, collapsed onto the sofa, and propped his feet comfortably on the coffee table.
The skeleton evolution process had progressed much faster than he had initially anticipated. As long as he released all these skeletons, he could tap into their magical power through his links with them. The total amount of mana at his disposal was now incredibly substantial.
His next objective was to find a way to convert all this raw magical power into actual combat capability.
The problem was, this wasn't something that could be achieved overnight.
Of course, he wasn't particularly in a rush. Judging by the current situation, Sclep was incapable of leaving the Gap World to hunt him down in the real world.
Perhaps he could try inventing his own magic...
Maurise stared blankly at the ceiling, turning his future research directions over in his mind. He had numerous, 'numerous' ideas.
Just then, a bizarre, inexplicable sensation washed over him.
'The Book of Magi.'
Realizing something, he focused his mind and flipped open the Grimoire within his consciousness.
Simply judging by its outward appearance, the Grimoire was now vastly thicker than before. This meant a massive amount of new content had been added.
Maurise mentally commanded the book to flip to the final chapter. He was instantly stunned.
What appeared on the pages was not a specific spell or a magic circle. The chapter title clearly read:
"Principles of Spell Models."
---
After immersing himself in the Grimoire for nearly two hours, Maurise finally opened his eyes.
His expression was deeply fatigued, yet his eyes shone with a terrifying, piercing clarity.
Just now, he had caught a glimpse of a vast, expansive world he had never known existed.
Simply put, a spell model's function was to shape raw mana into various forms. While the models for different spells were all unique, they all adhered to a certain set of underlying principles.
What had newly appeared in the Grimoire was a comprehensive breakdown of these foundational principles.
This section was incredibly complex and virtually endless, accompanied by hundreds, if not thousands, of reference templates. He had merely skimmed through it, yet he could already feel the immense weight of the knowledge it contained. This wasn't something that could be measured in dozens or hundreds of pages; it was practically an infinite repository of magical theory.
Naturally, grasping and applying this knowledge would be a monumental undertaking, far from a one-day task.
Maurise took a sip of water, allowing himself a moment to recover from the profound shock.
As long as he could comprehend this knowledge, he would be able to invent his very own spells.
Compared to learning fixed, pre-existing spells, this was what he truly, deeply desired.
"Hoot."
The sound of an owl drew his attention. Cinder flapped into the room and landed right in front of him.
"Someone is waiting for me outside?"
Maurise instantly understood the owl's message.
Who would come looking for him at this time? The Weasley twins? Kyle? They should all have permission to enter the ship directly.
Puzzled, Maurise walked over to the outermost wall and rapped against it in a specific rhythm: three short taps, two long ones, and one final short tap.
Immediately, his body was lifted by a gentle force, allowing him to pass through the hull and the glass of the bottle like a phantom, exactly mirroring the process of entering.
The moment his feet touched the shore, Maurise saw Dumbledore waving at him.
The Headmaster had changed into a set of exquisite silver robes, adorned with decorative patterns around the collar and cuffs. It looked more like formal attire than his usual everyday wear.
"Hello, Maurise," Dumbledore's voice was as mild and pleasant as always.
Maurise offered a slight bow. His gaze lingered on Dumbledore's outfit for a second before he asked, "Did you just attend a feast, Professor?"
Dumbledore looked down at his robes and smiled. "Ah, this. I was merely practicing."
"Practicing?"
"Indeed," Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "One must always prepare in advance for upcoming events. But that is beside the point. Maurise, how are your preparations for the tournament progressing?"
"Reasonably well," Maurise said casually. "Would you care to come aboard for a bit?"
"I would be delighted," Dumbledore accepted the invitation gracefully.
---
Half a minute later, Maurise and Dumbledore materialized in the living room of the Ship in a Bottle.
Once Dumbledore found his footing, his first words were, "That entry magic was quite fascinating."
He had boarded Maurise's ship before, but back then, he had been forced to climb a rope ladder—which was hardly magical at all.
"I think so too," Maurise smiled. "But tinkering with such a practically useless spell ended up wasting an entire week of my time."
"All magic has its purpose," Dumbledore said as he sat down on the sofa, looking with great interest at the television set in front of him.
Maurise retrieved two slices of mille-crepe ice cream cake—purchased from the Muggle world—from a stasis box and placed them on the coffee table.
One of the great perks of being a wizard was having access to specialized food preservation spells to prevent spoilage. Because of this, he could stockpile massive amounts of food and enjoy it whenever he pleased. To him, this was practically a dream come true.
Dumbledore's gaze landed on the two delicate cakes, his expression brightening considerably.
If there was one thing Maurise and Dumbledore shared in common, it was an undeniable, insatiable sweet tooth.
'Ah, coming here was indeed the right choice.'
Maurise suddenly spoke up. "Professor, I have a question regarding magic."
Dumbledore, who was just about to deliver a forkful of cake to his mouth, paused and looked up, his curiosity piqued.
"By all means," he said cheerfully. "If I am able to provide an answer."
Maurise didn't hesitate. "How do I continue to increase the power of my spells? The Shield Charm, for example."
Having said this, he drew his wand and gave it a gentle flick.
A transparent barrier materialized in front of him, emitting a low, almost imperceptible hum.
Dumbledore set down his fork. His gaze fell upon the barrier, and he examined it closely for several seconds.
"That is exceedingly impressive," he said, his tone entirely devoid of perfunctory politeness. "Even among Aurors, there are very few who could cast it better than you have."