With the aid of Transfiguration, the magical circuit snapped into place, enveloping Wyzett in a shimmering web of power.
A sharp, staccato thunderclap cracked in his ears. Blinding light flooded his vision, transforming the world into a blur of color—everything around him smeared like wild graffiti. Yet even as the thunder roared, he felt weightless, as if drifting underwater, his body buoyed and nudged along by an invisible current.
When the brilliance faded, Wyzett found himself standing five meters ahead of where the ritual circle had been.
He'd just moved—a flash, a jump—propelled by the force of Fulgur.
The surprise sent his thoughts racing to The Wizard's Practical Combat Guide. Taking a steadying breath, he focused inward. Sure enough, the book had opened itself in his mind, and beneath the entry for Fulgur, new words had appeared:
Ancient Magic: Fulguris Celeritas—Channel the essence of ancient magic... unleash the swiftness of lightning... flash instantly to a nearby location...
Two things leapt out at him: this was the speed aspect of Fulgur, and it enabled rapid, short-range movement.
Eager to test his theory—and to pin down exactly how the spell was cast—Wyzett gripped his wand, pointed it at his chest, and whispered, "Ansuz!"
The magical circuit flared. That familiar surge—a gentle shove, a blink—and he was back at his original spot.
He muttered, "If I have to use it like this every time, it's a bit clunky."
So he tried again, this time angling his wand away from himself. "Ansuz!"
The circuit snapped into being, and the push propelled him several meters toward home.
His second attempt confirmed it: the spell's range was five meters, and he could steer it with his intent.
Jotting down his findings, he glanced up—only to see a pair of familiar Mary Janes appear before him.
Luna stood there, holding a cup adorned with stars. "Dad heard thunder just now and asked me to check. I knew it was you experimenting with magic."
"Thanks!" Wyzett took the starry cup and sipped. The water inside tasted faintly of Dirigible Plum, with a gentle sweet-and-sour twist.
He gazed at the cup, musing, "Ritual magic really is fascinating. Watching that ceremony, I felt a unique kind of pull—almost like the magic itself was singing to me."
"The very first spell must've been so joyful…" Luna said in her dreamy, musical voice. "Maybe wizards used to sing as they cast spells, letting their gifts flow out in song…"
Wyzett couldn't help but smile. He raised his wand and, with a flourish, mimed a conductor leading an orchestra. "You know, casting spells with a wand… it's a bit like conducting music!"
Luna laughed, a sound like windchimes. "There's music everywhere—wind, laughter, breath, heartbeats… Each one is its own magical rhythm, quietly guiding us along."
"I just discovered a magical rhythm we created together. Want to see it?" Wyzett asked.
"Of course!" Luna hugged the star-patterned cup to her chest, eyes shining. "I can't wait!"
"Ansuz!" With a flick of his wand, Wyzett picked a direction. The now-familiar circuit and that gentle, irresistible push swept him away.
Everything snapped back to normal. He now stood five meters away, on a patch of grass.
From Luna's perspective, he'd become a flash of white light—gone in an instant, tracing a graceful arc through the air.
As Wyzett walked back toward her, Luna asked, "Can I draw what I just saw?"
"Of course! Sketchbook, quill—come here!" Wyzett incanted, sweeping his arm. "How long did it take me to get there?"
"Barely an instant—a blink! So fast!" Luna caught the sketchbook and quill as they soared into her hands, her movements practiced from years of magical art sessions.
"Look!" she exclaimed, holding up her drawing. "Just like real lightning—whoosh, gone in a flash! Except… it's chubby lightning!" She giggled, showing him a cartoonish, plump streak of light.
Wyzett laughed. "Well, even chubby lightning is still lightning—as long as it's fast!"
After three tries, he realized just how versatile this ancient magic was. He could choose his landing point by thought alone, or use his wand to direct the jump.
A happy accident, born from his research into Fulgur.
But he hadn't forgotten his original goal. Thanks to the ritual, he now understood Fulgur well enough to attempt a direct casting.
Before he began, he warned Luna, "Luna, stand behind me—give me plenty of space."
She nodded, taking her sketchbook and quill and retreating to a safe distance.
By now, the storm clouds from earlier were already thinning.
No hesitation. Wyzett summoned the streamlined magical circuit in his mind.
He gripped his wand, gave it a gentle wave, and intoned, "Ansuz!"
The wand shivered faintly. The clouds above crackled, emitting a lazy, half-hearted sizzle before squeezing out a few thin bolts of lightning that struck the oak branches planted in the ground.
"That's… underwhelming?" Wyzett frowned, watching the oak branches smolder and smoke.
If Fulgur had earned a place in The Wizard's Practical Combat Guide, he was certain it could be amplified with true ancient magic.
Unlike other ancient spells, though, he needed to actively channel ancient power to boost Fulgur's might.
With that in mind, he entered Custodis Meditatio—the Guardian's Meditation—and then invoked Ancient Magic: Projectile Mastery, gathering ancient magic in his hands.
He made an extra discovery too: to further enhance Fulgur, he could add the ancient power unlocked from the enchanted pages themselves.
He possessed two kinds of ancient magic within him. The first, from the Obscurus core, could fuel most ancient spells directly. The second, drawn from magical buildings and artifacts, was far rarer—steeped in centuries of power.
To truly showcase Fulgur, Wyzett decided to invest a small measure of this second, precious energy.
"Ansuz!"
As he spoke the incantation, Fulgur drew on both sources of power, the magic building and coiling within his wand.
He felt the wand grow warm in his grip. Through the Oculus Magicae, he saw it wreathed in white, lightning-like energy.
When that white fire gathered at the wand's tip, the wand trembled.
Wyzett knew: Fulgur was ready.
As he brought his wand down, the sky darkened as if in fear.
CRACKLE!—A blinding, plasma-white serpent of lightning tore down from the clouds, slamming into the earth. The world exploded in white, golden arcs of electricity writhing like a nest of furious serpents…
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