Were wands essentially the same as chakra hand seals?
Hand seals, after all, served as the medium for casting ninjutsu.
A ninja started off needing a full second for a single seal.
With practice and greater control over chakra, they could weave three or four seals a second.
Uchiha Itachi, possessing formidable skills in both dojutsu and taijutsu, could weave six seals a second.
Those with a deeper understanding of ninjutsu could simplify the seals required.
And those at the absolute peak could cast seal-less ninjutsu instantaneously—like Hashirama Senju, or Naruto and Sasuke at the Beyond-Kage level.
As for spells, it progressed from strictly following every movement and incantation, to chanting rapidly, to non-verbal spells, and ultimately to wandless, non-verbal magic.
Moreover, physical agility and combat awareness were indispensable in magical duels.
Jerail suddenly had an epiphany.
Chakra and magic were connected not because of some transmigrator perk, but because the two were fundamentally the same thing.
Both combined physical skills with castable arts.
At their core, they were the exact same energy, merely expressed through magical power or ninjutsu depending on the method of release.
Magic was passed down through bloodlines, and so was chakra.
Wizards gave birth to Squibs, just as descendants of ninjas could be born unable to knead chakra.
Ordinary humans could give birth to wizards, and commoners had a chance of producing ninjas.
Good grief, it was a one-to-one match.
The core concept was identical; it had just swapped skins!
How had he failed to recognize it?
To think he had spent so long agonizing over it.
Jerail felt an acute rush of silent frustration.
Still, there was a bright side: Jerail no longer needed to obsessively separate the two systems.
Refocusing his thoughts, Jerail continued to analyze how intent influenced magic.
When teaching Transfiguration to the young wizards, Professor McGonagall had said that one must possess a genuine, vivid understanding of the target object and truly believe in what they were transforming it into for the spell to succeed.
When Apparating, one’s awareness of the destination had to be precise and firm; otherwise, Splinching was almost guaranteed.
If a wizard’s intent was vague and confused when casting a spell…
Jerail thought of magical outbursts in young wizards.
These outbursts usually occurred during early childhood when faced with danger or fright.
Not knowing how to cope with the crisis, their magical energy simply erupted all at once.
This produced unpredictable effects—destroying the surrounding environment, harming others, or causing the child to vanish through accidental Apparition.
It was all due to a young wizard’s lack of understanding and control over their magic.
Jerail’s heart grew heavy.
The Caged Bird curse mark involved the soul.
If he wanted to remove it, wouldn’t he need his understanding of the soul to reach a certain depth as well?
He was somewhat afraid of losing control and becoming someone who toyed with souls only to be toyed with by them in turn.
A prime example of someone toyed with by souls had been blown up just last Halloween, leaving behind a stray soul fragment.
Jerail certainly didn’t want to end up like him.
Furthermore, at Hogwarts, books concerning the soul were restricted to the Restricted Section.
Without a signed permission slip from a professor, he couldn’t even lay eyes on them.
Even if he managed to sneak one out, conducting research without supervision would be extremely dangerous.
Nor could this matter be delayed indefinitely.
If he dragged it out until the Dark Lord resurrected and the Death Eaters regained power, the Caged Bird curse mark might fall into their hands.
If that happened, his fate would be grim indeed.
As his mind wandered, a dark shadow flashed in Jerail’s peripheral vision, accompanied by a wave of gasps around him.
Focusing his eyes, he saw a quill.
Its sharp tip plunged into the wooden desk with a soft thud, trembling slightly from the force of impact.
“Vichi Slugg!
How dare you attack a classmate?
A quill moving that fast—if Jerail hadn’t reacted in time, it would have jabbed right into his head!
Are…
are you trying to kill him?!”
Jack’s voice rang out, full of shock and fury, as he pointed across the aisle at a Gryffindor freshman.
A young wizard with messy brown hair stood up, his face flushed red.
He wanted to apologize, but the words stuck in his throat.
Under the barrage of accusations from those around him, his shame quickly morphed into anger, and he blurted out:
“He’s fine, isn’t he?!
It was just an accident!
Is there any need to get so angry?!”
Jack had never met anyone so brazen and shameless.
His eyes widened, his mouth opening and closing without a word.
Before Professor Flitwick could speak, Jerail moved.
“*Wingardium Leviosa!*”
With a flick of Jerail’s wand, the quill on the desk shot upward and blasted toward the Gryffindor side of the room.
Amid a chorus of terrified shrieks, it flew straight at Vichi Slugg’s face.
Vichi froze.
He hadn’t expected Jerail to retaliate so instantly and aggressively.
The eleven-year-old wizard, possessing zero physical training, watched the sharp tip enlarge in his field of vision, completely paralyzed by fear.
*Whoosh!*
The quill grazed past Vichi’s cheek and embedded itself deep into the stone wall behind him with a sharp *thump*.
The Ravenclaws and Gryffindors stared at the quill, which was still vibrating violently against the wall, and collectively swallowed hard.
By Merlin…
if that had hit a person, Vichi would have been sent straight to meet his ancestors.
Snatching his life back from the brink, Vichi realized he was unharmed and couldn’t help bursting into a laugh:
“Hahaha!
I’m fine!
You…
you little ungrateful coward!
All talk and no action!”
Yet he didn’t hear any enthusiastic backing from his housemates.
Instead, he met a circle of pitying, sympathetic gazes.
Following Jack’s pained, unwatchable expression across the room, Vichi looked down.
Between his feet, a puddle of liquid had spread across the floor.
He foolishly twitched his nose, caught a whiff of urine, and instantly realized what had happened.
His face flushed bright crimson.
Professor Flitwick was equally stunned.
He had merely failed to react for a second, and things had already escalated to this point.
Thankfully, no one was injured.
Just as the professor opened his mouth to speak, Vichi roared out a second time:
“You little ungrateful coward!
Who gave you permission to do this to me? Follow the newest chapters on g.com.
Do you have any idea I’m a Gryffindor?
We were the main force that defeated You-Know-Who!
We’re the reserves for the Order of the Phoenix!
How dare you treat me like this!”
Jerail felt a surge of annoyance.
There had been a scene in the last class, and now another one here?
He couldn’t resist sneering back:
“The ones who defeated You-Know-Who were all the brave and righteous wizards out there, not you.
I admire and respect them, but you’re just an eleven-year-old kid who barely stepped foot in school.
How did you defeat You-Know-Who?
By praying to Merlin at home?”
Vichi exploded with rage.
He pointed his wand at Jerail and spat recklessly:
“Ravenclaws are nothing but a bunch of bookworms who’ve studied themselves stupid!
Without Gryffindors, you wouldn’t even be able to attend school!
In the end, you’d just be groveling at You-Know-Who’s feet, turning into vile Death Eaters!”
This single statement incensed every Ravenclaw present.
Professor Flitwick shouted in a high-pitched, furious tone:
“Mr.
Slugg!
That is a grave accusation and act of discrimination!
Ravenclaws are wise and intelligent; we never crave evil or oppression!
You must apologize for what you just said!”
The heat in Vichi’s brain vanished instantly.
Reason flooded back, and he stuttered an explanation:
“No…
Professor, I…
I was just scared!
Yes!
He attacked me first, so I said those things without thinking!”
“Enough!” Professor Flitwick was even angrier now.
He levitated himself into the air, looking down at Vichi from above.
“Mr.
Slugg, for disrupting class discipline, using magic inappropriately to nearly harm a classmate, and subsequently showing no accountability while spouting absurd lies—fifty points will be deducted from Gryffindor!
Furthermore, you are assigned three months of detention.
Report to my office every evening at seven o’clock!”
Vichi’s face went deathly pale.
It was only the second day of term, and he had already lost fifty points for his house.
He hung his head, not daring to look at the expressions of his fellow Gryffindors.
Suddenly realizing something, Vichi looked up and argued frantically:
“What about that Ravenclaw kid?!
He attacked me with a spell too!
Professor, you can’t be this biased!”