More descriptions filled his mind as he stepped onto the stage, hundreds of eyes settling on him. 

Cassian’s instincts kicked in. He straightened, letting a grin stretch across his face, scanning the crowd like he wasn’t standing on the edge of disaster. He’d taught before… granted, that had been in a past life, and his students hadn’t expected him to perform actual magic… but the principle was the same. Confidence was half the game.

“Good evening,” he said smoothly, projecting his voice across the hall. “I am sure you are all eager to learn something useful tonight. Luckily for you, I am in a generous mood.”

Some in the crowd perked up at that. Others shifted uncomfortably, likely expecting another Rosier lecture about blood superiority. Cassian let the tension stretch for a second before continuing.

He glanced at the floating text still lingering in his mind. (Clear mental image and intent ease spellcasting.) Right. That made sense. Same principle as muscle memory… visualise, focus, execute.

Cassian turned slightly, holding up his wand between fingers like it was the most natural thing in the world. “Let’s start with something simple. Lumos… the basic illumination charm. Everyone here has heard of it, I assume?”

The audience chuckled, a few outright laughing. Someone muttered, “He can’t be serious.”

Lumos? At a lecture? They expected theory on high-level duelling, dark magic countermeasures, maybe some ancient Rosier spellwork… something that justified sitting through a speech from the family’s embarrassment. But Cassian just stood there, completely unfazed, twirling his wand lazily in the air like he hadn’t just insulted their intelligence.

“This is a joke, right?” someone near the back whispered.

Cassian let the laughter settle before speaking again, perfectly at ease. “I get it. What is the point of talking about Lumos? It is the first spell every magical child learns. You could teach a donkey to do it with enough treats.” He tilted his head. “But here is the thing… most of you don’t actually know what you are casting. You memorise the words, wave your wand, and assume it works because that is just how magic is.”

His wand flicked up, pointed loosely at the ceiling. “Lumos.”

Nothing happened.

Cassian took it in stride, not so much as blinking. He hummed, glancing at his wand as if appraising a faulty product. “Well, that is embarrassing.”

He snapped his gaze back to the crowd, then, with a slight tilt of his head, he asked, “Or did I fail because I didn’t intend to cast magic?” His wand spun lazily. “Tell me, if you accidentally said ‘Lumos’ mid-conversation, would your wand light up?”

Murmurs rippled through the audience. A few exchanged glances, unsure whether he was making a point or just covering his own failure. Cassian let them stew for a moment, then leaned against the podium. “Magic isn’t just words and wand-waving. Otherwise, we would be seeing accidents every time someone swore in Latin.” He tapped his temple with the tip of his wand. “It is about intent. Thought. Understanding.”

He scanned the room. The richer purebloods looked bored, unimpressed. The half-bloods and lower-rank attendees, though, were listening. Good. He could work with that.

“Now, humour me for a second,” he went on, pushing off the podium and pacing a few steps. “What is light?”

Brows furrowed as whispers spread. Cassian exhaled, shaking his head. “You see? That is the problem. You cast a spell to create light, but you don’t even know what light is.” He pointed at a random wizard in the crowd, some older man with thinning hair and an expensive robe. “You, sir. What is light?”

The man blinked. “It is… brightness?”

“Wow,” Cassian deadpanned. “Truly, you’ve cracked the mysteries of the universe.” That earned a few chuckles, and he pushed forward before anyone could interrupt. “Light is waves. Particles. Pure energy ripping through space so fast it could lap the Earth seven times before you even blink. It bends, it refracts, it changes depending on what it hits. And you think a two-syllable word and a wand flick makes that happen?”

“Magic follows rules. Just because we don’t always understand them doesn’t mean they don’t exist. And if you do understand them…” He flicked his wand up again. “Lumos.”

A small, steady glow sparked at the tip.

Cassian resisted the urge to heave a sigh of relief. Clear mental image and intent ease spellcasting. Right. That. He was going to have to remember that.

He lifted the wand higher, letting the light wash over his face. “Now, some of you might think, ‘Well, that is just magic doing its thing, who cares?’ But here is the fun part… spells change depending on the caster. And not just in strength. The more you know about something, the more it shapes what you are doing.”

He let the light flicker out and turned back to the audience. “Ever noticed how different wizards cast the same spell slightly differently? Maybe someone’s Lumos is brighter, someone else’s is dimmer. Some glow golden, some bluish. Why? Because magic isn’t just memorisation… it is interpretation.”

He leaned forward, lowering his voice so that the audience had to strain to hear, lean forward. “What happens when someone truly understands light? When they grasp not just the incantation, but the nature of it?”

He raised his wand again, this time focusing… not on just ‘light’ but on everything he’d ever known about it. The speed, the wavelengths, the way it bent through glass, the way it could be blinding or soft, warm or harsh. The mental image sharpened in his head.

“Lumos.”

The light flared up, brighter than before, not just a simple glow but a near-blinding white radiance. A few in the front row squinted, shielding their eyes. Cassian tilted his wrist, and the light softened, shifting from sharp white to a golden hue, warm and soft.

The floating text in his mind shifted: Lumos – [Slightly Improved].

Interesting.

He let the glow linger a moment longer before flicking his wand, letting it die out. “See? Same spell, different results.”

He paced the stage, pulling more from the old Cassian’s memories. “These changes? They are called Spell Variations. Lumos Solem, Lumos Duo, Lumos Maxima. Different names, but the core spell is the same… Lumos. Light.” He pointed at the back wall. “The suffix just sets intent. Gives it structure. But the real magic? That is all in how you imagine it.”

He flicked his wand. “Lumos Solem.”

A bright, golden glow burst from the tip, spreading in a warm, sun-like radiance. The audience squinted, some shielding their eyes. Cassian let it hold for a few seconds before cutting it off.

A murmur rippled through the crowd. That wasn’t just a stronger Lumos… it felt different. More intense.

“Now,” he said, rolling his shoulders, “watch this.”

He raised his wand again, this time with nothing but the single word. “Lumos.”

The same golden light flared to life.

Murmurs got louder. This time, he let the light shift, softening the intensity, then brightening again before he let it fade.

“You lot have been taught to think magic is rigid,” he continued, stepping forward, gaze sweeping the room. “That spells are these locked little boxes where if you don’t get the word exactly right, it all falls apart. But it is not that fragile.”

“Spells work because we make them work. The difference between a standard Lumos and a spell like Lumos Solem isn’t just the extra word… it is what you want it to be.”

The room had quieted, people actually paying attention now.

Cassian let a smirk creep onto his face. “Let’s get back to my previous question… Why do some people’s spells come out stronger? Brighter? Faster? Because the wand movement is better? Maybe. Pronunciation? Could be. But what really matters is how well you understand what you are doing.”

He turned back toward the wall and flicked his wand again. “Lumos.”

This time, the light that appeared wasn’t a general glow… it was focused. Sharper. A near-perfect beam, cutting straight ahead instead of spilling everywhere.

“I didn’t change the incantation,” he said, letting it linger for a moment before extinguishing it. “Didn’t add a suffix. Didn’t do anything different on the surface. So what happened?”

A pause. Then, from somewhere in the middle of the crowd, a hesitant voice, “You thought about it differently.”

Cassian snapped his fingers, pointing toward her. “Exactly. I pictured a beam, not just light in general. And magic listened.”

Cassian carried on, talking about light… how the sun was just a giant ball of it, how it moved through space, how it could bend, scatter, and shift. He threw in a few more spell variations, managing to cast them without making a complete fool of himself. Lumos Maxima flared brighter than expected, nearly blinding the front row. Lumos Duo split into twin orbs, hovering briefly before flickering out. Every time he spoke, he kept it sharp, confident, like this was all part of the plan.

An hour passed. The room hadn’t emptied.

No one had come expecting a bloody lecture on Lumos. If they had, they wouldn’t have bothered showing up. And yet, there they were… silent, actually listening. Cassian could see it in their faces. Interest. A few taking notes. A couple of smug purebloods who started out sneering but now looked vaguely impressed, like they weren’t sure how this had happened.

His father sat in the front row, arms crossed, face unreadable. Damien, the smug bastard, still had that amused smirk, but it wasn’t quite as sharp as before. Like he was waiting for Cassian to fuck up, but it hadn’t happened yet.

By the time Cassian wrapped up, he knew he pulled it off. No disaster. No humiliation. He set his wand down on the podium, looking over the crowd. “That is all for tonight. You are welcome.” 

A few laughed quietly. Someone started an awkward applause, but it sputtered and died before it could spread.

The second he stepped off the stage, the noise picked up… conversations, murmurs. Some sounded impressed. Others just confused. As he made his way towards the back, Damien fell into step beside him.

“Well, that was unexpected.”

Cassian rolled his eyes. “Don’t strain yourself with the compliments, cousin.”

“Oh, I am not complimenting you,” Damien said, trying to sound as arrogant as ever. “Just surprised you didn’t burst into flames from all that effort.”

Cassian ignored him, pushing open the door to the backroom. He needed a drink. Maybe an entire bottle.

He barely made it to the side table before something shifted.

Not in the room. Not in the air. In his head.

The floating spell list flickered. Right below Lumos, something new appeared.

Lumos – Successfully taught to 1563 Individuals. Two Ancient Variations Awakened!

And below that, two new entries…

Lumos Noctis – An ancient variation used by Night Crawlers to snuff out all light in an area, allowing them to hunt unseen.

Lumos Spectaculum – An ancient variation used to manipulate light to form moving illusions, creating lifelike images or recreating historical scenes in glowing detail.

Spoiler

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Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep