Three o'clock in the morning—inside the dormitory beneath the Black Lake.
Jerry and Geralt were fast asleep. The three of them had been in high spirits the previous night and had stayed up talking for a long time before finally turning in.
Nothing unexpected had happened during the Sorting Ceremony.
After an entire evening of discussion, the so-called "Savior" had indeed been sorted into Gryffindor. Hermione and Neville, despite Matthew's earlier interference, had not lost the courage buried deep within them.
Matthew woke up in the dormitory.
Before sleeping, he had taken a Sleeping Draught. Snape's improved version worked exceptionally well—just two hours of sleep was enough to fully restore his energy.
Matthew's father had been one of Professor Snape's upperclassmen, and they had gotten along well during their school years.
Because of that, when Snape discovered Matthew's talent for Potions, he often had him stay behind after class to assist him.
Matthew glanced out the window.
On a moonless night, the depths of the lake were pitch-black and silent.
Pidan was curled up by the window, asleep. Who knew whether he was dreaming of fish from the Black Lake?
Matthew focused his senses on the disc within his mind—the crystal was already fully charged.
He concentrated, and the disc began to spin rapidly.
In the span of a breath, he was back in the snowy wilderness.
Chris and Tina were still exactly where they had been before he left.
"Sir Matthew…" Chris stared at him in astonishment. "Why did your clothes suddenly change?"
Tina, who had just climbed onto the sleigh, also looked over curiously.
Matthew drew his wand and cast a Transfiguration spell on his clothing, turning them back into the same fur-lined cloak and garments Chris remembered.
A faint blue light flickered in Matthew's eyes as he cast Legilimency on Chris. He wanted to see how his disappearance had appeared from another's perspective.
From Chris's point of view, Matthew had never left at all. Only his cloak and clothing had changed instantly into the robes he wore at Hogwarts.
It seemed that when Matthew returned to his original world, time here had also stopped.
Previously, Matthew hadn't been sure whether there would be a time discrepancy between the two worlds. Before leaving, he had told Chris to go ahead to White Stone Town, saying he would follow on his own.
"Obliviate."
Matthew erased the memory of what had just happened from both Chris and Tina.
Chris blinked slightly, then returned to normal, climbing onto the sleigh's driver seat.
"Come on, Sir Matthew. We'll reach White Stone Town tonight—we won't have to stay out in the wilderness."
Chris was a skilled blacksmith. The heating furnace beneath the sleigh's cabin had been modified by him personally.
...
An hour later, the outline of White Stone Town came into view.
The entrance was unmanned, blocked by a wooden fence as tall as a man. Nearby stood a watchtower slightly taller than the surrounding buildings.
Chris brought the sleigh to a stop and called out, "Anyone there? Open the gate!"
He took out a flask from a drawer near the sleigh's heater and took a sip of warm liquor to ward off the cold.
A head wearing a hooded cap poked out from the tower.
After glancing at the sleigh below, the man withdrew his head. Moments later, the door at the base of the tower opened.
The man from earlier walked out, arms crossed as he yawned.
"Chris? What brings you here in weather like this?"
Chris's craftsmanship was well-known in the area. This night watchman had purchased weapons from him before.
Chris stepped down from the sleigh.
"It's you, Jack."
"Greenwood Village hasn't been peaceful lately. The animals nearby have become unusually aggressive—attacking villages frequently.
"My great-uncle left a house in White Stone Town. I'm planning to move here with Tina."
Jack's face lit up.
"You're moving here? That's great! No more running all the way to Greenwood Village to get my blades serviced. You should've moved sooner!"
He stepped forward and pulled open the wooden gate.
Chris helped him, asking as he did, "Has White Stone Town been attacked? Why is there only one night watchman on duty? We ran into quite a bit of trouble on the way here."
As a watchman, Jack only needed to sound a horn from the tower in case of danger, and guards would arrive.
"No, everything's normal," Jack replied. "That lazy fool Paul is still sleeping in the tower!"
After opening the gate, he rubbed his hands together. He had forgotten his gloves, and in just that short time, his hands were already going numb from the cold. All he wanted was to get back inside and warm up.
Chris bid him farewell and led the white stag into White Stone Town.
The town's architecture resembled that of medieval Europe—stone and brick structures throughout.
At night, the streets were mostly empty, giving the place a somewhat desolate atmosphere. The liveliest spot was the tavern near the entrance—its noise could be heard even from across the street.
The town itself wasn't large. Before long, the three of them stopped in front of a house.
It looked rather old, its gray-white brick walls marked by the passage of time.
"My great-uncle mostly lived in the capital before he passed away. He rarely came here," Chris said as he took out a key. "I come by occasionally to clean. Sir Matthew, you can take a look at the study upstairs—there are some books he left behind."
Matthew's interest was immediately piqued. He hoped the books left by a wizard might help him better understand this world.
Chris led him to the study.
The room was small, with most of the space occupied by a table and chairs. On the bookshelf to the right were about a dozen books.
Matthew picked one at random—it was the Illustrated Guide to Magical Creatures Chris had mentioned earlier.
"You can stay in the room next to the study," Chris said. "I'll go tidy up."
Matthew thanked him and continued reading.
The descriptions in the guide were quite brief—each creature had only a single illustration and a rough description of its abilities. The illustrations weren't animated either. It seemed books in this world didn't include moving images like those in the wizarding world.
He saw many fascinating creatures. Some even matched the forms he remembered from his previous life—such as mermaids who could charm humans with their voices.
However, this world didn't only have merfolk with human torsos and fish tails—it also had fish-headed humanoids, whose influence in the deep sea was immense.
He also saw creatures he had already encountered, such as the Drake-Serpent Trees and Phantom Wraiths, which matched Chris's descriptions fairly closely.
Matthew continued browsing the other books.
Most of them were travelogues, poetry collections, or historical records. He took out a Quick-Quotes Quill—a magical quill he had purchased for ten Galleons, capable of automatically copying text.
He intended to transcribe all the books on the shelf.
After organizing the books, he noticed a rolled parchment hidden beneath them.
He hadn't seen it earlier because it had been pressed under the others.
He opened it.
At the top were the words:
[Aemon's Basic Meditation Method]
The author was Aemon, and what it recorded was a foundational method of meditation.
Through meditation, onr could train the mind, gradually unlocking latent potential and condensing mental energy into a mindscape. During this process, one's total magical power would also slowly increase.
Most importantly—
It allowed the construction of runic models within the mindscape.
Using runic magic involved two main steps:
—First, condensing magic into runes.
—Second, guiding those runes into a structured spell model.
But after mastering Aemon's meditation method, once a runic model had been constructed within the mindscape, the process of condensing runes with magic would become instantaneous.
A single Lightning Bolt spell required thirty-two runes.
Without meditation, simply condensing those runes would take five minutes.
With meditation, the condensation step could be completed instantly. All that remained was to guide the runes into a spell model—
—and the spell could be cast.
The entire process would be reduced to around ten seconds.
Matthew was overjoyed.
He hadn't expected his biggest problem to be solved so quickly.
Salazar Slytherin had been right—
Meditation truly was the key to runic magic.
But at the same time, even more questions arose.
If the "meditation" Slytherin had mentioned referred to this method, then how had he come to know it? Had he practiced it himself?
Matthew found himself increasingly curious about that piece of history.
When he returned in a few days, he would need to visit the Hogwarts library and see if he could uncover any clues.
The meditation method didn't require the original scroll to practice.
After copying it down, Matthew returned the parchment to the shelf.
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