Chapter 181: The Future of Squibs
After a warm and friendly persuasion session from the comrades of the revolutionary base, the scab realized the severity of his error. Overcome with shame, he fell unconscious and was respectfully levitated out of the Beauxbatons palace.
His departure brought smiles to the faces of all the locals.
A wind swept through, pulling back the heavy curtains and clearing the clouds from the sky, revealing a bright, beautiful day.
It was such a fine day that even the blind could see again. Ryan took off his sunglasses. "My apologies, everyone. I had a sudden ailment, couldn't see a thing. I heard someone confessing... what happened?"
"Professor Ryan, one of our number was deeply ashamed of his actions. He voluntarily left Beauxbatons, never to return," the disheveled young man answered decisively, seeing that the wealthy middle-aged man was too embarrassed to speak.
"Is that so? Well, then everything is fine."
Ryan let the matter drop. "What is your name, sir?"
"Antoine Lungard Martin," the young man replied.
"Mr. Martin, would I have the honor of asking you to be the first to try?"
"Of course." Martin couldn't wait.
He stepped forward and gripped the iron staff. "What should I do?"
"Believe in yourself," Ryan said, secretly channeling his own magic into the staff.
Martin couldn't feel it. He only saw what everyone else saw—the moment he gripped the staff, it erupted with intense light.
It was like the first ray of sun at the dawn of creation, tearing through the clouds from the highest heavens to pierce all gloom and darkness.
It was a Light Charm.
Just a Light Charm.
But Martin was trembling all over. The companions behind him were trembling too.
Some were already weeping, tears streaming down their faces. It wasn't just tears of joy; it was a sorrow they couldn't even put into words.
Why did you take so long?
I'm over forty... why did you only appear now?
Their resentment wasn't directed at Ryan, but at themselves, at time, at the world. Having wasted half a lifetime in shadow, how could they not weep upon finally seeing the bright spring light?
Martin, experiencing it firsthand, didn't have such complex emotions. He felt only unparalleled joy and confidence. He seemed to feel a ceaseless power pouring into his body, feeling the trace of magic more clearly than ever before.
He believed it. He completely believed it. This alchemy professor from Beauxbatons had truly done it! He could really make Squibs cast magic!
A destitute young man who had glimpsed magic but been forced away, now believing he had the ability to wield it...
What kind of brilliance would burst forth?
Ryan saw it. After Martin believed he had cast the spell, the magic around him surged wildly, more violently than a flock of sheep scattering before a wolf.
Inside Martin's body, something seemed to be expanding and contracting rhythmically.
It was his magical core.
For a wizard, the magical core is active, full of vitality.
But Ryan had observed Filch. When Filch caught students at night, or when he tried in vain to cast spells and sobbed in a corner from the pain of failure, Ryan had sensed that Filch's core was like a lifeless stone—cold and solid. Even with the strongest desire, Filch couldn't shake that stone in the slightest.
The people before him were the same. In his perception, their cores were like stones.
Before he had secretly poured magic into the staff, Martin's core had been the same.
But now, as Martin's excitement and agitation drew the magic together... as Martin, from the bottom of his heart, firmly believed he could cast magic—believed that holding this wand allowed him to cast magic...
Through the monitoring spell Professor Flitwick had given him, Ryan felt something shake the unmelting ice within Martin—on a spiritual level, a psychological level, a metaphysical level.
The ice melted; the water flowed.
A wisp of light burst from Martin's body—faint, like a flame in the wind; brilliant, like the first ray of sun in a long night.
Magic flowed along the specially made iron rod, naturally lighting up the alchemical inscription within. A faint glow appeared at the tip of the staff.
Compared to the initial burst that had illuminated the entire hall, this light was insignificant.
But the four people sitting on the stage stared intently at this historic moment, each wanting to carve it into their minds forever.
Since the beginning of magic, this might be the first time, but it certainly wouldn't be the last—a Squib had cast magic. Magic that belonged to a Squib.
Nicolas and Perenelle said nothing. They had seen much of the world, much strife, many ups and downs, but they had never seen this. They needed a moment.
Madame Maxime looked as if she wanted to speak but stopped herself. She knew this scene would be passed down to future generations. As the first Squib to use magic, Martin's name would be etched into magical history, a symbol. Today would be the most monumental day in the expansion of wizardkind.
At this moment, the first words should be spoken by the one who had created this scene.
"We have witnessed history. Congratulations, Wizard Martin."
Ryan kept his hands under the table. Even he hadn't expected it to go so smoothly. Perhaps it was because Martin had seen the beauty of magic but lived in poverty among Muggles for over twenty years. Thousands of days and nights of torment had tempered a power strong enough to shake the foundations of reality.
He had broken the shackles that bound Squibs, transforming from a man into a monument.
Amidst his ecstasy, Martin felt a flicker of confusion. He didn't understand why a second Light Charm had appeared.
And compared to the massive first one, the second was like the babbling of a newborn infant.
But he dismissed the doubt instantly. He assumed it was because he was using Professor Ryan's special wand to cast magic and his control was poor, leading to a repeat cast with fluctuating power.
After all, he'd heard that when young wizards had magical outbursts, they could achieve feats that took years of study to replicate.
My first Light Charm must have been like a magical outburst... Martin once again used the power flowing through him to light the wand. The light that rose was far dimmer than the first, even a bit weaker than the second.
But it didn't matter.
What mattered was that he had cast magic!
He looked at the young man sitting on the high table. Before, he had thought he was a big shot.
Now, he felt that sitting there was a Saint descended to earth, pardoning all suffering and granting blessings to all beings.
He promised the future, illuminated tomorrow, giving life to those with will, blessings to those with heart, and salvation to the fortunate.
Martin's reverence for Ryan reached its peak. "Honorable, great Professor Ryan... I believe only in you. I follow only you."
Behind him, countless Squibs, overcome with emotion, echoed in unison: "We believe only in you. We follow only you."
~~~
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