If Mom Knew We Were All on the Battlefield

As the wand swept through the air, everything floated up, as though time were flowing backward. Following the angles at which they had been taken out and the creases they had made, everything flew back into the suitcase.

"Traces of Time..."

Anton raised an eyebrow. He had more or less begun to grasp the field of this complex magic he had constructed.

It was a subtle yet immense magical effect, completely different in nature from the spells he usually cast.

Spells placed greater emphasis on memories, emotions, and will, drawn upon by the wizard's own thoughts to interfere with Magical Power at a high intensity. The more extreme, the better.

This kind of magic, on the other hand, leaned toward diminishing one's own presence, letting more of the "world, the environment, the threads of time" blend with Magical Power to produce a unique effect.

Of course, that didn't mean a wizard's will was unnecessary.

Casting this kind of magic seemed to come closer to the Magical Theory old wizard Fiennes had explained: Wizards as Gods.

A wizard needed an extraordinarily powerful will to guide, interfere with, and alter the process while casting this kind of magic.

The principles behind a simple spell for packing a suitcase could fill an entire book.

In this magic, Anton had used the time magic he'd learned from Goblin Pedro, the Fate Magic he'd learned from Grindelwald, the Human Heart Magic and Mind Magic he'd learned from Dumbledore, his own compound spellcasting method, Voldemort's Ego Magic, and so on...

And the interesting Ritual Magic he'd created on this trip to the United States, which had produced a massive Dark Magic Creature, had tied everything together, threading it all into one.

"Traces in the world, the environment, the threads of time, and the collective human heart..."