Matthew was back.
This time, his return came without the discomfort he had felt during his previous crossing.
The crystal on the metal disc had dimmed considerably. The energy stored within it had been completely drained.
Matthew had chosen to return to his original world before reaching White Stone Town.
His trip this time had been far too rushed. He had brought only his wand, intending to make proper preparations before coming into contact with human society in the other world.
With a wave of his wand, he transformed the thick cloak and heavy garments back into their original form.
The bundle containing the Phantom Wraith's corpse had come back with him as well.
Pidan was still in the same spot as before.
"Pidan."
Matthew picked the cat up and stroked its fur a few times.
A blue light flickered in Matthew's eyes as he cast Legilimency on Pidan.
From Pidan's memories, he saw that the metal disc in Matthew's hand had suddenly vanished—but Matthew himself had remained where he was.
It seemed that after Matthew crossed into that other world, time on this side stopped moving altogether.
Setting Pidan down, Matthew took out the wizard's notebook Chris had given him.
Inside was a spell called Lightning Bolt, written in Ancient Runes.
Lightning Bolt could fire a beam of lightning at a target, and its power depended on the caster's magical strength.
The magic of this world was different from the magic he had learned at Hogwarts.
The spells he knew were driven by emotion and will. Emotion and conviction had a tremendous influence on a spell's power, and if one's belief wavered, the spell might even fail altogether.
But the other world's magic required one to first construct a spell model, then pour magic into it, using that model to release magic in a specific form.
And the fundamental units used to build those spell models were Ancient Runes condensed from magic itself.
A spell model was like an engine. Ancient Runes were the parts assembled into that engine. Magic was the fuel. Once magic passed through the spell model's conversion, it would ultimately transform into another form of energy.
That was the principle behind runic magic.
Matthew extended his right hand and gathered magic into his palm, condensing it into an Ancient Rune carrying the meaning of light.
The rune for light resembled a flawless pearl—clear, luminous, and softly radiant in his hand.
Matthew frowned and dispersed the magic in his palm. The rune, formed from magic, dissolved at once.
It had taken him over ten seconds just to condense the rune for light. With practice, he might be able to shorten that to around ten seconds.
But a single Lightning Bolt spell required the condensation of thirty-two runes.
That meant casting even one runic spell would take several minutes—or even over ten minutes, just to form the runes through magic alone.
Wasn't this world's spellcasting far too cumbersome?
Perhaps there was some method to speed up the condensation of runes.
After finishing the section on Lightning Bolt, Matthew's expression shifted slightly.
The writing on the last page of the notebook was blurred and indistinct.
He drew his wand and pointed it at the notebook.
"Reparo."
The blurred handwriting gradually restored itself, as though time were reversing and undoing the wear.
There was only a single sentence written there:
[I walked through a dim woodland, heard the sound of drums, and saw the skin of shadows.]
"The skin of shadows?"
It was a baffling sentence. Matthew frowned, unable to draw any useful meaning from it.
With no immediate insight, he put the notebook away, left the storage room, and came to the door of the study.
He knocked softly.
"Good afternoon, Grandfather."
"Matthew, this is my nap time," came a lazy voice from a portrait inside the study.
In the painting sat a kind, refined old man with a scholarly air. It was the magical portrait of Matthew's grandfather, Arphaxad Black.
Although his grandfather had died before Matthew was born, Matthew's early education had been carried out through that portrait.
Before his death, Arphaxad had synchronized all the knowledge in his memory into the portrait.
Matthew had learned Ancient Runes from Arphaxad's portrait as well. During his lifetime, Arphaxad had been a renowned scholar of Ancient Rune studies in the wizarding world.
In this life, Matthew's father had been an Auror, while his mother had been a Muggle. Both had died at the hands of the Death Eaters.
The one who had killed them was Matthew's own aunt—Bellatrix Lestrange.
Matthew retorted, "I don't remember you ever having a habit of taking naps."
Inside the portrait, Arphaxad took a bottle of red wine from the cabinet behind him.
"I did when I was alive."
"Grandmother isn't here again?" Matthew asked curiously.
Arphaxad uncorked the bottle, leaned close to the mouth of it, and lightly fanned the scent toward himself with one hand.
"You know what Elena is like—she enjoys visiting people. She left portraits of herself in plenty of places."
Matthew nodded in understanding.
"Grandfather, I want to show you something."
He raised his right hand and condensed an Ancient Rune from magic.
Arphaxad held his wineglass and gently swirled the red wine he had just poured.
"As for the magical applications of Ancient Runes, I believe I explained them quite thoroughly in The Compendium of Magical Symbols."
Matthew said, "Of course I've read The Compendium of Magical Symbols. But recently, I discovered that runes seem to have a deeper level of application."
As he spoke, he condensed all thirty-two runes of Lightning Bolt, one by one, then guided them with magic into a specific structure.
Crackle!
A burst of light flared.
The runes and magic in his hand transformed into a bolt of lightning that shot forward, instantly blasting through the wooden wall.
Matthew flicked his wand and restored the wall to its original state.
"That was a spell formed from combinations of Ancient Runes?" Arphaxad's face was full of astonishment.
He knew that runes were connected to ancient magic, but after studying Ancient Runes for years, he had found only fragmentary references in a few old texts.
He had never expected Matthew to have already mastered a runic spell.
After listening to Matthew explain the principles behind runic magic, Arphaxad said thoughtfully,
"No wonder it took you several minutes to cast it. At first, I thought it was simply because you weren't proficient enough. But now it seems runic magic is still missing a crucial component."
Matthew said helplessly, "That's exactly it. Condensing the runes with magic takes far too long."
Arphaxad suddenly seemed to remember something. He took a sip of wine and said, somewhat uncertainly,
"I once saw a line in one of Salazar Slytherin's manuscripts: Meditation is the key to runes."
Matthew stared at him in surprise.
"'Meditation' is the key?"
Arphaxad continued, "I never fully understood it either. That manuscript only recorded some meanings of Ancient Rune characters. When I compiled A Table of Magical Phonetics, I cited some of its contents."
"That manuscript should still be stored in the Hogwarts library. You may want to look for it."
Matthew nodded and committed it to memory.
Just then, a clear, airy voice drifted in from outside the window.
"Matthew~ Are you there?"
Matthew walked to the window and leaned out. Down below stood a girl with dark golden-brown hair, waving up at him.
"Luna! Wait a moment!" Matthew called down.
When he turned back, he saw Arphaxad waggling his brows at him.
"It's hardly gentlemanly to keep a lady waiting, you know~"
Matthew rolled his eyes.
"We're still children!"
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