In a secluded café above the terminal, everyone was startled by the explosion and thunder. They initially fled to a distance, but when they saw there was no real danger, they crowded around the windows to watch.
Yet two customers had not moved from their seats. Through the enormous floor-to-ceiling windows, they calmly looked down at the blazing inferno on the runway and the lightning that still occasionally tore through the night sky.
Holding his coffee cup, Wade murmured in admiration:
"Such an incredible Weather Charm. At this scale... and it can still be controlled so precisely."
Dumbledore, seated across from him, smiled faintly and said gently:
"With your talent and understanding of magic's essence, Wade, one day you will be able to achieve this much... perhaps even surpass it."
Then he lightly tapped the tabletop with his fingertip and said:
"However, I would suggest that you first learn about Muggle theories of meteorological research—they always use an approach closer to the essence of the world to describe the laws governing all things. It may bring us unexpected inspiration as well."
Wade nodded. "I will."
His gaze shifted to the Muggle commander, whose brow was tightly furrowed, and he said:
"There was too little time. The traces we left behind were not handled perfectly. If they make up their minds to investigate thoroughly, they will definitely find many inconsistencies."
"Ah, there is no need to worry too much about that."
Dumbledore gently set down his teacup, and the porcelain gave a clear clink.
He said, "Even if that dutiful officer writes up his doubts in a report and requests an investigation, it ultimately will not stir up enough trouble to threaten us."
Wade raised an eyebrow slightly and looked at the Headmaster.
Dumbledore's fingers lightly tapped the table as he