The resonance of the three incomplete runes was fleeting, but the lightning bolt shooting from ground to sky illuminated everything around in that instant.
Inside the castle, Harry, wearing his Invisibility Cloak on a night patrol mainly to monitor Snape, also saw that momentary flash. His eyes showed amazement. The lightning's trajectory seemed to still burn on his retinas.
"Thunder? But how could it go from ground to sky? That direction is the greenhouse area? Could it be related to Ciel?"
Hearing Harry's words, Ron shook his head repeatedly, immediately contradicting him. "That's mental, Harry! Weather magic is really advanced stuff; I've heard my dad mention it at work. Calling down real lightning from the sky? That's way beyond even most professors. And Ciel? He's just a first-year like us! You must have seen it wrong, mate. It's too late, we're too tired, we're seeing things."
Under Ron's insistence, Harry gradually accepted it. "Indeed... That must have been my eyes playing tricks on me."
At this moment, Ciel had rather unceremoniously collapsed to the ground, gasping for breath. Mental exhaustion brought throbbing pain in his temples. But this didn't affect his exhilarated mood at all.
Just now, he had wielded lightning with human power?!
Even if it couldn't compare to nature's lightning that could destroy everything, it was still lightning. Nature's great power, initially controlled by himself. This feeling... "Awesome!"
Moments later, the throbbing pain in his temples gradually subsided, and his vision focused. Then his gaze fell on the system panel, thinking to himself:
"Five nodes, though still quite forced, it was ultimately completed. Very close to completing the basic runic configuration. Ancient Weather Magic's progress should have improved significantly too."
But when he saw the changes on the system panel, his eyes flashed with surprise.
[Ancient Weather Magic (Iron, progress stalled)]
The iron black lustre on Ancient Weather Magic's text hadn't grown as expected; instead, its growth had become increasingly slow. By now, the iron-black lustre covered less than half.
This puzzled him. Clearly, just two more nodes would complete the basic configuration. Why was this entry's progress worse than anticipated?
As thoughts turned, he considered a possibility. "Could it be that Ancient Weather Magic's entry requirement isn't just constructing seven nodes to complete the basic configuration? Are there other requirements?"
Thinking this, he returned to Sprout Island to question the troll priest Cyrus. He demonstrated the lightning bolt again in front of Cyrus.
Seeing the lightning tear through the air, Cyrus's eyes showed awe. Lightning related magic, even among ancient magics, was extremely powerful, even surpassing Fire God magic. It seemed Ciel had obtained quite a remarkable magical inheritance.
But when Ciel asked if he felt this magic was missing some key factor, Cyrus hesitated uncertainly. "Uh... It seems, there's something that doesn't feel quite right? But I can't say what."
After hemming and hawing, Cyrus couldn't articulate what was wrong. After all, his ancient fire magic was only obtained from fragmentary bloodline inheritance. Being able to use it was already good enough. To truly research underlying runic questions, Cyrus was completely ignorant.
His eyes flashed with disappointment. He contemplated deeply. "What exactly is missing?"
He had Cyrus demonstrate the ancient fire magic again for him. But even after carefully observing all night, he couldn't find the problem.
Frowning, he stopped obsessing over this issue. Perhaps changing locations and switching perspectives would reveal the problem.
"Let's return to Hogwarts first. Still have classes to attend."
Then he returned to Hogwarts. It was breakfast time. He walked toward the Great Hall. But along the way, the young wizards he saw all had panicked, pale expressions. The entire Hogwarts seemed shrouded in an atmosphere of terror.
When he entered the Great Hall, he discovered that students at all four long tables seemed to have no appetite. Even the little badgers, who would eat breakfast first even if the sky fell, had unprecedentedly not touched their cutlery.
Instead, they were all reading newspapers. From time to time, someone couldn't help but dry heave.
He frowned and came to his seat. Beside him, Susan Bones and Hannah Abbott were trembling. Seeing him arrive, they seemed to feel some security, unconsciously grabbing his sleeves, as if this could keep some frightening things at bay.
He looked at what lay before them, all copies of the Daily Prophet. The front page headline was indeed partial reporting on the disappearance incidents. The photos and text descriptions were quite restrained.
Compared to the first-hand materials he had gotten from Tonks, this had already deleted most of the bone-chilling details. But to the young wizards, it was still more terrifying than the scariest horror stories they'd read.
After all, ghost stories, you knew they were fake when you closed the book. But this current horrific incident was really happening, with no knowing when it would end.
Some young wizards trembled, fearing Hogwarts would also be infiltrated by the killer. Maybe they'd be brought to this dining table in the Great Hall to be eaten while sleeping. Others worried about their parents, especially those whose homes weren't far from several crime scenes, fearing to see their parents appear in the reports.
Even he frowned tightly, his expression quite grave. The deterioration rate exceeded his estimates. He had thought the Ministry could keep the "lid on" for a few more days. How could they not contain it today?
Given Fudge's style, there was only one possibility: something big must have happened that could no longer be suppressed. This led to releasing information through the Daily Prophet first, letting the public know relatively "mild" news. The real bombshell might still be coming!
His gaze swept the staff table. Indeed, the professors' expressions were all extremely grave, seeming worried. Some professors teaching marginal subjects with weaker abilities even wore the same fearful expressions as the young wizards.
Dumbledore was nowhere to be seen, not appearing in the Great Hall. His heart sank, he was seven or eight tenths certain of his speculation.
Just then, another owl flapped its wings, delivering a letter to his position. He looked and again saw Tonks's signature. He took a deep breath and opened the letter.
What met his eyes were hastily written lines: "An entire Auror team, seven total. All dead. Only found three bodies. We've increased personnel, in groups of ten; even retired old Aurors have been called back. Mad-Eye Moody is here too. We're doing our best to find that thing's trail. But don't tell others, the situation probably isn't optimistic."
Seeing this letter's contents, even though he had guessed something unconcealable must have happened for the Ministry to agree to let the Daily Prophet release news first, he never imagined it would be this serious.
The magical world wasn't large, one death could already be hot news discussed for quite a while. Much less dead Aurors. Last time one elite Auror died; this time an entire team of seven died. Eight Aurors had already fallen in battle!
It wasn't hard to imagine how panicked the magical world's populace would be upon hearing this news. Even he felt increasingly urgent.
Compared to the original timeline, current Quirrell's danger level was in a completely different league. Though Dumbledore would surely strengthen the castle's defences, better safe than sorry. He couldn't pin all hopes on Dumbledore. His own strengthening pace had to accelerate.
And Ancient Weather Magic – he had already experienced its power. Without even completing the basic runic configuration, with mastery not even reaching Iron level, it could display last night's power. One could imagine what the scene would be like after mastering it!
"What exactly is missing?"
He frowned in thought, still unable to figure out what key factor was lacking.
While he pondered, this breakfast was almost ending in this oppressive atmosphere. The entire Great Hall was gloomy. Even the ceiling truthfully reflected the outside weather, the frequently overcast skies of the Scottish Highlands this season.
The Great Hall's ceiling had weather magic applied, displaying a sky identical to the outside. Whether brilliant sunshine or oppressive clouds, it could be faithfully reflected.
At this moment, within the dark clouds, a bolt of lightning flashed, illuminating the entire Great Hall. This scared the already frightened young wizards, who screamed in succession.
Beside him, Susan Bones and Hannah Abbott, these two little Hufflepuff girls, screamed while tightly grabbing his arms, as if their hearts would burst from their throats.
He looked at this lightning streak across the Great Hall ceiling. The trajectory still lingered on his retinas. His eyes gradually brightened.
The fog in his mind was torn apart by the passing lightning in that moment. He seemed to somewhat understand what his Ancient Weather Magic and runic script were missing.