Thaddues stepped onto the upper deck just as darkness began to seep through the thick gray clouds. The ocean around the old merchant ship remained calm, almost eerily still, as if the world itself was holding its breath after what had happened here days ago. The wooden planks beneath his feet creaked softly, still faintly stained with reminders of the past. He did not linger on them.
He raised his wand.
"Scourgify."
A faint shimmer of magic spread outward in a controlled ripple. The cleaning charm was still new to him, something he had only properly learned the day before. It was simple in theory, but in practice it required repetition and precision, especially over large surfaces.
The upper deck was wide, weathered, and deeply marked. Dark residues clung stubbornly in places where bodies had once been laid.
He moved slowly.
"Scourgify."
Another wave of magic swept across the planks. Some of the stains faded, but not all. He adjusted his wand movement slightly, focusing harder.
"Scourgify."
This time, more of the surface cleared. Still, it was not enough.
He continued.
Once.
Twice.
Five times.
Eight times.
Each cast drained a small portion of his already limited magical capacity, but he refused to stop until the deck began to resemble something livable again. The smell of iron and decay slowly faded, replaced by the raw scent of salt and wet wood.
Even the maggots feeding upon the forgotten remains had been reduced to nothing beneath repeated cleansing spells.
By the time he finished the eighth full sweep of the deck, his breathing had become heavier. His wand arm felt slightly numb, as though the magic had slowly drained strength from his muscles instead of just his core.
He exhaled and lowered himself onto the deck.
For a moment, he simply sat there.
The place where the dead had once lain was clean now, almost unnaturally so, as though the ship itself had forgotten what had happened upon its deck. The sight unsettled him, but he did not dwell on it. Better this than the stink of rot and death.
His hand reached into the inside of his black coat.
There, carefully stored, was a small wrapped piece of chocolate.
It had been given to him by the system the previous day.
He unwrapped it slowly and observed it for a moment. It looked ordinary at first glance, similar to Muggle chocolate he remembered from his past life. But the moment he had tasted it before, he realized it was not ordinary at all.
The sweetness was familiar, almost comforting, like something close to Hershey's chocolate he had once tried. But beneath that was something else entirely. Warmth. A subtle restorative effect that spread through his body the moment it melted on his tongue.
He took a bite.
Instantly, the effect returned.
Warmth spread through his chest, then his arms, then down to his legs. The exhaustion from repeated spellcasting began to recede, not fully gone, but stabilized. It felt as if his magic had been gently replenished. The kind that allowed him to continue without immediately collapsing.
He leaned back slightly, allowing the effect to settle.
The system had been generous.
Over the past few days, it had given him several rewards. Each one had contributed to his survival in one way or another.
On the third day, he received another set of potions identical to the first batch. Restorative, stabilizing, and healing vials that helped maintain his fragile condition. On the fourth day, a more advanced spellbook appeared, one that contained knowledge beyond the standard beginner texts he had been relying on.
On the fifth day, he received three pieces of enchanted clothing from a well-known tailor in Diagon Alley. Woven with subtle enchantments to improve durability and comfort, they were well suited for long journeys and the rigors of magical travel.
But what surprised him most was the sign in reward on his sixth day. Today he received a reward he isn't familiar about. It was another card, and since he was busy he didn't check it.
Now that he have the time, Thaddues check the card again. Unlike the materials that always materialize in the air due to the fact that the system doesn't have an inventory. He saw that the card remained on the screen, like a pop up notif bubble.
When he click it again and read its description.
His eyes wentwide.
———
[MASTER CARD]
TYPE: Skill Acquisition System Item
EFFECT:
- Grants full mastery of one selected magic branch
- Unlocks all spells, techniques, and enchantments in that field
RESULT:
- Instant Master-level proficiency
- Complete knowledge + execution ability
LIMITATIONS:
- Restricted by user's magic capacity
- Low capacity = weaker output, instability, or fatigue
- Does not increase inherent mana reserves
- Applies to one branch only
———
Thaddues paused.
Selected magic branch?
Did he miss some system update?
Frowning, he opened the system interface to confirm.
That's when he noticed it—a new tab had appeared in the upper-left corner of the screen. It wasn't there yesterday.
He hesitated for a second, then tapped it.
A new window instantly unfolded before him.
———
CURRENT MAGIC BRANCHES
[CHARMS]
———
He focused on the entry and select the description tab.
Immediately, a detailed panel expanded into view, the information unfolding directly in his sight.
———
[CHARMS]
TYPE: Utility / Enchantment
CLASSIFICATION: External Effect Magic
FUNCTION:
- Applies magical effects onto existing targets
- Does NOT change the fundamental nature of the target
CORE MECHANIC:
Intent + Wand Motion → Effect Overlay
EXAMPLES:
- Levitation (Wingardium Leviosa)
- Cleaning (Scourgify)
- Summoning (Accio)
- Unlocking (Alohomora)
LIMITATIONS:
- Requires precision and focus
- Cannot transfigure matter
- Strong targets may resist effects
[MASTER CARD DETECTED]
Apply to: [CHARMS]??
[Y /N]
———
Thaddues gasped in disbelief, his eyes lingered on the final line.
Using the Master Card, he could instantly master every spell under Charms?
That wasn't just an upgrade—it was an enormous leap in understanding. It felt absurd, like graduating from kindergarten and suddenly being handed a secondary school diploma without ever setting foot in primary school.
His mind spiraled at the implications.
Was the system trying to accelerate his growth?
Was he some kind of chosen one, someone meant to save a collapsing world but given too little time to grow naturally?
The thought was ridiculous… yet it clung to him anyway.
Thaddues could only stand there, overwhelmed, as increasingly exaggerated possibilities flooded his mind.
Still, given his current situation, this was undeniably a boon. He forced himself to push aside the exaggerated thoughts and instead felt a quiet gratitude toward the system.
But even with the Master Card in his possession, hesitation lingered.
He remembered the agony of using the Learning Card before—how it had felt as though his mind were being stretched beyond its limits. This one would elevate every spell within the field of Charms to mastery. The strain would be far greater.
It would not merely fill his head with knowledge. It would reshape the very foundation of his magic. His body, mind, and capacity to wield mana would all be forced to adapt in a single, overwhelming transformation.
The danger was undeniable. His mind could break beneath the strain, or his body might simply fail to withstand the change.
But now, with the corpses dealt with and the immediate crisis aboard the ship behind him, he could see the truth with unmistakable clarity.
There would never be a perfect moment.
If he was ever going to take the risk, it had to be now.
Determination appeared in his face as he raised his wand and spoke the spell.
"Accio, healing potions!"
In an instant, a sharp whooshing sound cut through the air as three bottles shot toward him from across the ship.
Thaddues reacted immediately, one snap of his fingers. A Levitation Charm caught the incoming vials mid-flight, suspending them gently in place before he guided them down with controlled precision.
He secured them carefully into his pocket.
Just in case the worst happened, he had prepared healing potions—an emergency safeguard against whatever consequences might come next.
He then clicked YES, applying the Master Card to Charms.
In an instant, something changed.
It was not pain. Not exactly.
A torrent of understanding crashed through his mind, carrying concepts, structures, magical principles, and the hidden framework that bound every charm together.
Charms were not merely household magic.
They were a language—not one spoken aloud, but one through which reality itself could be instructed.
He understood it now.
Every charm was a directive, a precisely constructed command woven into the fabric of magic. It did not force reality into submission so much as redefine the conditions under which it would obey. A wand did not compel the world; it negotiated with it, and Charms provided the grammar of that negotiation.
Spells such as levitation and cleaning were only the simplest expressions of a far deeper discipline. Beneath every incantation lay an intricate framework of intent, execution, stability, and constraint.
A charm was never simply an action.
It was a condition imposed upon the world.
As the knowledge settled, each spell unfolded within his mind like a diagram that had always existed beyond his reach. What had once appeared to be a single spell now separated into distinct layers, each serving a precise purpose.
His understanding deepened.
Charms were not isolated workings but modular constructs. Each could stand alone or be woven into another, forming layered enchantments that behaved less like individual spells and more like complete systems. Once linked, they sustained chains of cause and effect, allowing one condition to trigger the next without further intervention.
It was not automation born of thought, but of flawless design.
In that instant, he understood how an enchanted ship could exist.
Not by granting timber a mind of its own, but by binding countless charms into a unified framework. The hull would recognize deviations from its intended integrity and restore them. The sails would adjust themselves whenever the wind no longer matched predetermined conditions. The deck would continuously purge anything identified as foreign, keeping itself clean without ever being commanded again.
Everything became a sequence of conditions and responses, each governed by immutable magical law.
Then came the realization that unsettled him most.
The more intricate such a framework became, the more convincingly it imitated thought. Not because it possessed awareness, but because every foreseeable circumstance had already been accounted for. What appeared to be judgment was nothing more than countless enchantments interacting exactly as they had been designed.
A sufficiently refined system could appear alive, though it possessed neither mind nor will.
Thaddues drew a slow breath as the final fragments of understanding settled into place.
As the knowledge settled completely into place, a surge of magic welled up from within him.
Unlike the last time he had used a Learning Card, it was not an agonizing torrent threatening to tear him apart.
Yet his eyes widened.
He felt another force stirring beneath the surface of his magic—volatile, immense, and straining against the limits of his control. It pressed outward with mounting intensity, demanding release. If he failed to contain it, his body might not endure the strain.
He had only two choices.
Suppress it.
Or release it.
Without hesitation, Thaddues rose and swept his left hand through the air.
A wandless Levitation Charm answered as naturally as breathing, lifting him from the upper deck and carrying him in a smooth arc toward the poop deck. His black robes billowed in the sea wind, lending his ascent an almost regal air, as though the enchanted vessel itself recognized its master.
His boots touched down upon the highest point of the stern.
From there, the entire ship lay spread before him.
The entire structure of the old wooden merchant ship stretched out before him like a broken machine waiting to be awakened.
He inhaled deeply.
Even with mastery over Charms, his limitation was clear. His magical capacity was still only at a medium level. If he tried to control everything at once, the entire charm network would destabilize under the strain—yet the surge of magic building inside him was already more than enough to push him past his limits. Perhaps every time his magic level increased, the system granted him additional magical techniques or constructs, like an enforced evolution of capability.
So he narrowed it down.
Three core charm systems.
Sails — responsible for capturing wind and generating propulsion.
Rigging — responsible for adjusting tension, angle, and structural response.
Rudder — responsible for steering and controlling the ship's direction across the sea.
Each one was essential.
Each one dependent on the others.
He closed his eyes briefly.
In his mind, he constructed the framework—not transformation, not brute force, but structured behavioral rules.
If even one failed, the entire system would drift—or stall completely.
He exhaled slowly and opened his eyes.
Then he raised his wand.
Only now, with Charms fully mastered and the knowledge fully settled in his mind, did he cast the spell he had just received.
"Navigare,"
Threads of faint magical influence extended from his wand, branching outward like invisible directives rather than physical energy. They did not push the ship—they instructed it.
At the same time, faint resonance connections anchored into the ship itself, binding the charm rules to its structure.
He felt it immediately.
The ship was responding.
Not fully—but enough.
The sails shifted slightly as wind behavior was reinterpreted, no longer random force but usable, guided pressure.
The rigging tightened—not through brute strength, but through automatic adjustment in response to imbalance.
The rudder creaked as it corrected its angle based on directional drift and current flow.
It was unstable.
But functional.
His breathing slowed as he reinforced the charm layers, carefully distributing his limited magic across the three systems.
He was not moving the ship directly.
He was defining how it should react to the world.
But even with that careful balance, the strain began to build.
His vision blurred slightly at the edges.
His knees weakened.
The Charm output load was rising faster than expected—inevitable, given the sheer size of the merchant vessel.
Still, he did not stop.
Not yet.
Then—the ship moved.
A slow shift at first.
Then a steady forward drift.
The sea answered. Waves parted gently beneath the hull as the long-still merchant vessel stirred at last, responding to the commands woven into its enchantments after days of silent stagnation.
Thaddues' breath hitched.
His body trembled.
He dropped to one knee on the poop deck, swallowing hard as dizziness washed over him.
But he did not release the charm framework immediately.
Just long enough.
Long enough to confirm the rules held.
Then—he disengaged.
The charm threads unraveled, fading from the ship like invisible threads being erased from reality itself.
His hand pressed against the wooden deck as he steadied himself.
Even in exhaustion, he looked up and saw the moon now fully visible in the sky, breaking through the thinning clouds.
The ship was moving.
Slowly, but undeniably forward.
A faint, almost disbelieving laugh escaped him.
"Success…"
TBC
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