Chapter 232: Chapter 232: Creation Elements
"Magic has never been just a simple word," Augustus said, his gaze calm as he looked at the gathered crowd around him.
"Our world is far more intricate than it appears on the surface," he continued, snapping his fingers.
The torches in the room slowly dimmed until the space was engulfed in darkness. A few girls, afraid of the dark, let out startled cries. In the midst of the blackness, a faint, pale blue light emerged at the center of the room, hovering above the magic circle. It was small, like a single star shining in the vast sky.
In the next moment, the entire room was illuminated as countless stars appeared, banishing the darkness. It was as if they had been transported into an infinite cosmos. The twinkling stars formed clusters of galaxies, glowing and pulsing rhythmically. Planets, like radiant spheres, orbited one another in celestial harmony. To the onlookers, it felt as though they were standing suspended above this endless expanse of starlight. The boundaries of the room had dissolved, leaving them unsure whether they were still in the same space or had truly stepped into the starry heavens.
"This is our world—and the hall of magical laws," Augustus explained, drawing a slender silver wand. He pointed toward a single star among the vast cosmic tapestry, and intricate magical arrays began forming. Threads of light, in different colors and designs, divided the starry universe into vivid sections.
"The world is created by magic, and it is sustained by magic," Augustus declared, gesturing toward a celestial monument emitting a misty white aura. From it, countless pure white elements erupted, enveloping the dark cosmos in radiant light. The brilliance was so blinding that all other colors vanished, leaving only pure white in its wake.
As the light faded, Augustus turned his wand to a deep blue monument. Pure blue elements began gathering around him, swirling faster and faster. Suddenly, a deafening roar echoed, and a torrential flood surged into existence, swallowing the starry sky. An endless ocean rushed past the onlookers, its vastness humbling them, making them feel as insignificant as insects before the expanse. The sensation was so vivid that the fresh scent of water filled their nostrils.
With a slight motion of his wand, the roaring waters froze. The sudden stillness brought a chilling cold that seeped into everyone's bones. The frozen torrents transformed into a glacial wasteland, the frozen landscape stretching as far as the eye could see. Loki's amber eyes gleamed with fascination, the icy world resonating deeply with him, its familiarity both comforting and captivating.
Amid the icy silence, a single flame appeared—a bright red blaze standing out vividly against the white expanse. In an instant, the frozen world began to crumble as towering volcanoes erupted, spewing molten lava that scorched the frozen rivers. Flames consumed everything, and the acrid smell of sulfur filled the air. Fire, the very embodiment of vitality, began to reshape the world.
As the flames settled, life began to sprout. Green shoots emerged from the scorched ground, and soon, lush trees stood tall, their leaves vibrant against the charred earth. Blossoms of various hues dotted the landscape. Life, unyielding and resilient, reclaimed the barren world, its tenacity creating an Eden where destruction once reigned.
Above, a streak of blue lightning tore through the sky. A massive thunder dragon, its form sculpted from pure lightning, roared as it streaked across the heavens. Golden eyes flickered open, and the air crackled with electricity. Each blink of its eyes unleashed a thunderclap that reverberated across the skies. Lightning, the divine force of order and balance, marked the rhythm of life, heralding cycles of birth and death, beginnings and ends.
Slowly, the vivid visions began to fade, the elements dissipating into nothingness. The room returned to its original state, the torches flickering back to life. Yet the students remained awestruck, their minds still lingering in the spectacle of creation they had just witnessed.
"This world's understanding of magic is far too narrow," Augustus's magnetic voice broke the silence, drawing everyone's attention. "Magic is born from all things and shapes all things. What you have just witnessed is the truth of magic—it represents the laws of the universe and the power that creates all."
He gestured to the 14 black stone monuments encircling the central magic circle. "These monuments are the testing tools for the 14 elemental branches of magic," Augustus explained. "The magic system is divided into 14 elements: Wood, Fire, Earth, Water, Metal, Wind, Lightning, Light, Darkness, Ice, Necromancy, Summoning, Arcane, and Illusion. This is the true structure of magic. The origins and philosophies of these elements are unnecessary for you to understand now. What matters is that you step into the circle, test your affinities, and begin systematic training in these disciplines—whether in elemental magic, forged for war, or in the so-called craft magics."
Harry's heart swelled with excitement. At last, he understood the gulf between himself and Malfoy—the spells and phenomena that had once seemed incomprehensible and unattainable. Now, everything would change. If he could master these elemental magics, he would shatter the pedestal Malfoy had stood upon for so long.
Hermione, too, stared at the central magic circle, entranced. She had expected basic defensive spell training but instead found herself on the cusp of inheriting the legendary magic of the Augustus family. It reminded her of the Sorting Hat ceremony, filled with a similar mix of nervousness and anticipation. Regardless of the result, the chance to learn such formidable magic was an unimaginable stroke of fortune.
Others shared her excitement, though some, like Neville, harbored a gnawing fear—what if they entered the magic circle and had no affinity? What if they were rejected? Missing this opportunity to become truly powerful would be a devastating blow. The thought of it weighed heavily, making their steps hesitant yet hopeful.
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