“Right over there!
Look!” “Where?” “Next to the kid with the red hair.” “The one wearing glasses?” “Did you see his face?” “Did you see his scar?” Early the next morning, whispers like these were all Kyle heard as he ate breakfast in the Great Hall.
Flocks of young students wandered back and forth past Potter’s seat, every single one of them pretending they were just walking by.
Watching them left Kyle completely speechless—a group of five or six kids had already “casually” strolled past Potter more than ten times, and always together.
Ignoring the schoolwide commotion, Kyle began his own path of study.
To be honest, during his first three years, Kyle had poured all his energy into practical combat capabilities.
He had built his current strength through endless, grueling practice.
The downside was a severe lack of foundational knowledge—his study of magical theory lagged far behind.
Of course, this was normal for young wizards.
Only upperclassmen, or witches and wizards who pursued research in relevant fields after graduation, ever dug deep into theoretical magic to study the intrinsic connections and structural mechanics between spells.
For Kyle, however, that was unacceptable.
Experiencing the wonder of magic was something countless people in his past life could only dream of.
Having been reincarnated into this world, how could he be content with merely scratching the surface, knowing *how* to cast without knowing *why* it worked?
When Professor Flitwick dismissed the class, the Slytherin snakes and Ravenclaw eagles filed out together.
Kyle, waiting until last, walked up to the professor.
His Slytherin classmates glanced back at him before quietly taking their leave.
“Yes, my boy, is there something I can help you with?” Professor Flitwick asked with a warm smile.
Kyle knew that some of the faculty maintained a subtle air of caution around him.
His reputation as a student obsessively pursuing strength was well-established, and certain professors were undoubtedly aware of his use of Dark Magic.
It wasn’t unusual for Slytherin students to dabble in Dark Magic, but most stuck to simple charms like the Severing Charm.
What Kyle commanded, on the other hand, could only be described as insidious and bizarre.
Still, that perception was gradually shifting—especially among the professors for Charms, Ancient Runes, and Alchemy.
Since the summer after his third year, Kyle had maintained close communication with them.
“Professor, it’s about the Flying Charm we discussed before,” Kyle said.
“I found the ancient Flying Charm in the *Compendium of Ancient Magic* you recommended and did some research on it.
“There’s no doubt a connection exists between the ancient Flying Charm and the modern one.
But Professor, I don’t understand why there’s such a vast difference between them.
The modern Flying Charm emphasizes speed, whereas the ancient version prioritizes stability and duration.
What’s even stranger is that their runic structures are nearly identical,” Kyle spoke with a tone of utter marvel.
“Calm, Kyle, calm down,” Professor Flitwick said, waving his hand as he motioned for Kyle to take a seat, while he himself sat down in one of the front desks.
“Kyle, I am delighted to see you taking the time to study dry, tedious things like runic structures.
To be frank, it caught me somewhat off guard.
I trust you’ve realized that magic is far more than incantations and wand movements; those are merely its external manifestations.
“Incantations and hand gestures are conduits, not the core.
They exist only to help beginners channel magic to cast a spell.
Once you understand a spell deeply enough and possess sufficient power to drive your magic, you can attempt nonverbal casting.
But truly understanding a spell to that degree is a hurdle most people never cross.” Professor Flitwick’s expression grew increasingly kindly.
Naturally, a student who sought to probe the deeper mysteries of magic earned his immense approval.
“Then Professor, what exactly constitutes ‘sufficient understanding’?” Kyle asked.
“And how does that relate to the runic structure of the Flying Charm?
As you know, I spent very little time on research in my earlier years—I had to focus most of my energy on practical magic.
Yet, even without achieving what you would call deep understanding, I can still perform nonverbal casting through sheer practice.
Why is that?
Did it simply become instinct?” Kyle had already harbored vague thoughts on the matter, but hearing the professor lay it out systematically felt like a sudden epiphany.
Naturally, even more questions rushed to his mind.
“Patience, Kyle.
The secrets of magic are endless, and if you wish to delve deep, you cannot rush for quick success.
You’re correct—nonverbal casting doesn’t strictly require a theoretical mastery of a spell.
Through relentless practice, turning the flow of magic into second nature yields the same result.
“As for your question, the runic structures of the ancient and modern Flying Charms are nearly identical because their core function is flight.
The key distinction lies in the control component.
“The ancient Flying Charm was primarily used for long-distance travel.
Aside from the basic flight control, the remaining auxiliary runes favored stability and endurance—maximizing flight distance while minimizing magic consumption.
“In modern times, however, with the proliferation of Apparition, the Floo Network, and Portkeys, flying is no longer used for travel.
It’s mostly utilized for short-range movement in places where Apparition is prohibited.
Hence, speed became the priority.
If you want to study this further, try comparing the differences between the two spells.
It will help you gain a much better grasp of both.” “Thank you, Professor.
I think I know what my next area of study will be,” Kyle said thoughtfully.
Upon leaving the Charms classroom, Kyle headed straight for the library.
Professor Flitwick’s explanation had validated Kyle’s theories and clarified his upcoming research direction.
Ever since securing a stable footing in Slytherin, Kyle had been pursuing this line of inquiry.
He had examined everything capable of flight: the Flying Charm, the Summoning Charm, broomsticks, and flying carpets.
Even if his current knowledge wasn’t sufficient to comprehend them completely, he grasped their general mechanics.
His fixation on this stemmed from an obsession in his past life.
Back then, Kyle’s primary—and favorite—form of entertainment had been playing D&D-style games like *Warcraft* and *Neverwinter Nights*.
When he actually transmigrated to a world of magic and got his footing, he found the wizarding world fascinating, yet somewhat lacking in legendary grandeur compared to the game worlds of his memories.
Here, magic was mostly applied to mundane daily life.
If the equipment, artifacts, wizard towers, and floating cities from those games could be replicated in this world, what magnificent brilliance would they unleash?
Having been given a chance to walk through a world of magic, how could he leave without making his mark?
With these thoughts in mind, Kyle had begun his research, and he already possessed a rough concept for constructing a floating city.