A night passed, and a weary Damian rubbed his throbbing temples. He had practiced Aemon's Basic Meditation Method all night long.
Constructing Runic Script models within his mind was mentally taxing. Thanks to the meditation technique, he could finally perceive his 'sea of spirit'—though right now, it felt completely parched and dried up.
Four glowing Runic models floated in his empty mental reservoir. This was the entire harvest of his night's work.
He estimated that with a normal wizard's natural daily recovery, he would only be able to construct about four of these a day. At that pace, it would take him eight long days to finish the thirty-two scripts required for the Lightning Bolt spell.
According to this world's terminology, those four runes officially made him a First-Level Wizard Apprentice.
He reached into his pocket, which had been magically enlarged with an Undetectable Extension Charm , and pulled out two vials: a Draught of Peace and an Invigoration Draught.
He poured the potions down his throat, a spicy, burning sensation echoing down his esophagus. A few moments later, the recovery speed of his sea of spirit spiked dramatically.
Damian's face lit up with joy. The Hogwarts potions actually worked on this world's runic magic!
He needed to test the exact effects. He pulled out another Draught of Peace and drank it first; after waiting a while, there was no change to his sea of spirit.
Then, he downed another Invigoration Draught. Almost immediately, his mental recovery speed accelerated again.
It's the Invigoration Draught, Damian realized. Not only did it affect his mental recovery, but the potion's effects could actually stack!
"Let's see your limits," he muttered. This time, Damian pulled out five more bottles of the Invigoration Draught.
The scaling was obvious. A single bottle increased his recovery speed by roughly twenty percent. After downing three more, his recovery rate had fully doubled! Anything beyond that had no extra effect.
So the absolute limit is five bottles, Damian concluded. He was thrilled, but his wallet ached—a single vial of high-grade Invigoration Draught cost almost two Galleons back home.
"I wonder if Professor Snape has a more potent version brewed..." Damian mumbled, suddenly missing his grumpy Potions Master.
He spent the next hour testing every fatigue-relieving potion in his inventory. Finally, he discovered one more brew that directly impacted his sea of spirit.
The Mandrake Restorative Draught instantly replenished fifty percent of his depleted mental energy. However, drinking it repeatedly within a single day carried toxic side effects, and each bottle cost nearly ten Galleons.
He hadn't tested the exact duration of the Invigoration Draught yet, but Damian did some quick mental math. If he kept the draught's effects active and drank one Mandrake Restorative Draught daily, he could construct ten Runic models a day.
At that rate, he would finish all thirty-two scripts for the Lightning Bolt spell in just three days.
Throwing money at magic really was the fastest way to grow.
A quiet knock on the door interrupted his thoughts. "Lord Damian? Lunch is ready."
Damian blinked, realizing it was already noon. His stomach gave a loud rumble. "I'll be right down!"
He quickly packed up the empty potion vials, leaving the desk spotless, and headed downstairs. He arrived just in time to see Tina carrying a steaming pot of stew out of the kitchen. The rich, savory aroma made his mouth water.
After lunch, Damian turned to the blacksmith. "Chris, do you know where I can find Blue Water Flowers?"
The Blue Water Flower was a key supplementary ingredient mentioned in Aemon's Basic Meditation Method. Applying its extracted juice during meditation would accelerate the expansion of the sea of spirit, allowing it to hold far more runic models.
According to the scroll, constructing 128 runic models would elevate him to a Second-Level Wizard Apprentice. With his potion-chugging strategy, Damian estimated he could reach that rank in just thirteen days.
"Blue Water Flowers are fairly common around here," Chris replied. "They grow in the river by the street behind the house. But they usually bloom underwater, and the river is completely frozen solid right now."
Damian was pleasantly surprised that such a crucial magical catalyst was just a common local weed.
Thanking Chris for the meal, Damian grabbed his heavy winter cloak and headed out to harvest the flowers himself. The afternoon sky was clear and bright. Despite the heavy snow, the streets of White Stone Town were bustling with pedestrians.
He soon reached the back street and found the frozen river, its banks stretching about ten meters apart. A sturdy stone bridge sat off to his right.
With a flick of his wrist, his wand slid smoothly from his sleeve into his palm. He pointed it directly at the thick ice.
"Confringo!" The Blasting Curse shattered the frozen surface with a deafening crack, exposing the rushing, frigid water below.
Up on the nearby stone bridge, a young man and woman paused at the sound of the explosion.
The blonde woman had been walking with her head down, aggressively complaining to her partner. "It must have been a Wizard's doing. They never leave any physical clues behind."
Her companion, a red-haired man with his hair tied in a loose ponytail, walked with his hands stuffed deep in his pockets.
"They'll slip up eventually," he drawled lazily. "Sometimes, having no clues is a clue in itself, Anna."
Anna opened her mouth to argue, but the sudden explosion down by the river caught her attention. She frowned, spotting a young man standing on the riverbank with a wand.
"Captain Watson, look down there," she murmured. "I don't recognize that Wizard."
Captain Watson turned, his lazy demeanor vanishing as he studied the boy. "Indeed," he noted, his eyes narrowing. "We've been stationed in White Stone Town for a while now. We know every local spellcaster."
"A strange Wizard appearing out of nowhere right now is highly suspicious." Giving Anna a subtle nod, the Captain turned and marched down toward the riverbank.
Down by the shattered ice, Damian pushed a thread of his magic directly into the frigid water to scan the riverbed. It was a crude sensory technique he had recently developed, as liquid was incredibly easy to permeate with magical energy.
Finding no immediate threats lurking below, he prepared to wade in. Suddenly, the crunch of snow caught his attention.
He looked up to see a man and a woman approaching him. Wizards, Damian realized, his brow furrowing. He could feel the distinct, heavy fluctuations of magic radiating from both of them.
This was his first time encountering native spellcasters in this dimension. He turned to face them, his grip on his wand tightening beneath his cloak.
As the pair stopped a few paces away, a faint yellow light flickered in their eyes—some sort of local Appraisal spell. They quickly scanned his magical signature, silently confirming his rank in their system: a First-Level Wizard Apprentice.
The red-haired man spoke first. "Sir, we are Court Wizards. We'd like to ask you a few questions."
Damian gave a curt nod, signaling them to continue.
"Are you new to White Stone Town?" Watson asked smoothly. "We haven't seen you around here before."
"I arrived last night," Damian answered truthfully.
The two Court Wizards exchanged a quick, meaningful glance.
"Did you happen to see the Night Watchman at the gate when you arrived?" Watson pressed.
Damian nodded. "I spoke to one. He mentioned his partner was asleep inside the watchtower."
"The Night Watchman from the gate went missing last night," Watson said, his tone turning authoritative. "We're going to have to ask you to come down to the Security Office to cooperate with our investigation."
Damian's eyes narrowed. "That has nothing to do with me."
He clearly remembered the guard shivering in his thick cap. When Chris had said goodbye, the man had eagerly mentioned going back to his warm fire, likely heading to the tavern as soon as his shift ended.
Beside the Captain, Anna was losing her patience. She didn't believe they would get straight answers out of a suspect by just talking.
The timing of this stranger's arrival was far too coincidental. Furthermore, he was only a measly First-Level Wizard Apprentice. It would be much easier to just apprehend him now and force the answers out of him later.
Without warning, Anna raised her right hand.
A magical ring on her index finger flared with a sickly green light, and a thick, thorny vine shot directly toward Damian!
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