A few days later, inside the Room of Requirement, Damian had just condensed another Runic Script model within his sea of spirit.
A glint of joy flashed in his eyes. By now, exactly 128 Runic Script models were drifting steadily inside his mind.
Thanks to his recent hard work and a steady supply of potions, he had finally met the threshold for a breakthrough. He could advance to a Second-Level Wizard Apprentice at any moment.
Damian retrieved a vial of Blue Water Flower juice from his magically expanded pouch, smearing the shimmering liquid evenly across his forehead. This time, he used triple the amount he normally applied during practice.
Taking a deep breath, he drank the remaining half-cup of the juice in one go.
A violent, icy sting instantly flooded his tongue. Moments later, it went completely numb, as if frozen solid. The chill, carried by the potent magic of the potion, shot straight to the top of his skull and made his scalp tingle.
Damian's brows knitted tightly together. It felt as if he had swallowed a bucket of menthol balm spiked with mothballs. Forcing through the discomfort, he reined in his mind and began circulating his Meditation Method.
A few breaths later, the flower juice smeared on his forehead began seeping deep into his skin.
Damian felt as though he were standing in a small boat adrift on a raging sea, battered by a fierce storm. Towering waves slammed into the hull, threatening to capsize him at any instant.
Endless breakers seemed to crash over him. Each impact consumed a part of his sea of spirit, yet after every surge, the sea grew denser and more refined.
After nearly an hour, Damian was completely drenched in sweat, his complexion ghastly pale. Only a sliver of mental power remained within his sea of spirit; he was nearly exhausted.
Just as the last trace of his spirit was spent, his sea of spirit shuddered violently. The distinct sound of shattering glass rang in his ears.
He sensed a hidden shackle break. His sea of spirit expanded rapidly, halting only when it reached one-and-a-half times its original size.
Immediately, the magic inside him began to boil. Objects scattered around the Room of Requirement rose into the air, caught by an unseen, powerful force.
Moments later, the surging magic finally calmed, and the floating items clattered harmlessly back to the floor.
He quickly checked his internal reserves. His total magical power had increased by a staggering twenty percent. He now possessed more raw magic than an average, fully qualified wizard.
Damian felt better than ever. It was as though he had experienced a controlled burst of a Magical Outburst.
In the wizarding world, young witches and wizards underwent sudden awakenings of power through a Magical Outburst, during which a child's magical reserves skyrocketed. Afterward, their magic only grew gradually with age and practice. Because of this, childhood Magical Outburst largely set the upper limit of a wizard's natural potential.
Wild with joy, Damian did some quick mental calculations. If every breakthrough brought a miniature surge like this, by the time he graduated, he would have larger reserves than a veteran Auror!
Raw power had always been his weak point. After all, he was only a young teenager, and his reserves were naturally thin. His current strength relied entirely on uncanny casting speed and his rich combat experience.
Once this weakness was mended, his staying power in a duel would soar.
Calming his elation, he drew his wand to tidy the mess his magical surge had caused. He visited this room daily; it gave him a secure place to brew potions and a quiet spot for his meditation practice. It was incredibly convenient.
Damian left the Room of Requirement near midnight. The castle corridors were completely hushed, with very few rule-breaking students daring to wander out so late.
He drew his wand and tapped it lightly against his palm twice, casting a silent, modified signal.
This was the signal he and Nox had agreed upon. Casting "Call Companion" twice inside the castle would tell the Kneazle to wait outside the Slytherin Common Room, since Nox couldn't pass through the hidden stone wall alone.
As he reached the damp dungeon entrance, a sleek black Kneazle sprinted toward him from the far end of the corridor.
"Meow~" Nox leapt gracefully into Damian's arms, affectionately rubbing his head against the boy's hand.
Nox was an incredibly affectionate companion. In Damian's two lifetimes of experience, pets had wildly different temperaments, and the ones that loved to cajole naturally won the most favor.
Carrying the Kneazle, he entered the Slytherin Common Room. It was completely empty at this hour, so he dropped exhaustedly onto one of the dark leather sofas.
He scratched Nox under the chin. The feline narrowed his glowing yellow eyes in absolute bliss, purring deeply.
This was a major perk of having Kneazle blood: no shedding!. If Nox were a normal Muggle cat, Damian's black robes would already be covered in fur.
Damian mentally reviewed the information he had gathered over the past few days. He had combed through the library's materials on Salazar Slytherin and the era of Merlin. Yet, he had found scarcely any mention of "meditation," let alone a complete Meditation Method.
He grew ever more puzzled. Why did this world possess Runic Script yet lack a matching spellcasting system for them?. The Runic Script seemed to have appeared out of nowhere during the Middle Ages.
Then, a brilliant thought struck him. Why not just ask Merlin himself? A portrait of the legendary wizard still hung right here in Hogwarts.
In fact, the Slytherin Common Room housed an entire gallery of famous, historical Slytherin alumni.
Cradling Nox, he rose from the sofa and entered the quiet study room to the right of the main gathering area.
In the grand portrait, Merlin's grizzled hair merged seamlessly with his thick, white beard. He was reclining on a painted wooden bench, apparently dozing off.
Damian stepped up to the painting and spoke softly.
"Lord Merlin".
The painted Merlin opened his eyes slowly and gave a wide stretch.
"Up so late, are we? Come to chatter with an old man?" Merlin asked, his voice echoing slightly in the frame. "You may call me Professor. When Hogwarts was first founded, we were quite short on staff. After my graduation, I actually taught here for a few years".
Damian immediately obliged. "Professor Merlin, I'd like to ask you something".
He carefully organized his thoughts. "On a manuscript written by your teacher, Salazar Slytherin, I read a specific line: 'Meditation is the key to Runic Script'. Yet, in other historical sources from the same period, I find almost no mention of meditation. What, exactly, does this 'meditation' refer to?"
Merlin studied Damian with deep, ancient eyes. It felt as if the portrait could see right through him in an instant.
A sharp light flashed in the old wizard's gaze. Suddenly, a thick, magical mist rolled over the canvases of every other portrait in the room, obscuring them completely.
Slowly, Merlin spoke. "Don't you already know the answer to that?" he asked quietly. "I can see the lingering traces of a Meditation Method on you right now"
[75 STONES] - Unlock1 Bonus Chapter
[150 STONES] - Unlock 2 Bonus Chapters
[300 STONES] - Unlock 3 Bonus Chapters