Magical Outburst

Upon reaching their destination, Manus could not help marveling at Griffin's skill at finding places like this.

A clear azure lake lay deep within a forest, like an arcane crystal. Before they arrived, several deer had even been drinking near the shore.

Although they had not seen the carriage, the sound of it landing still startled the deer away.

Jumping down from the carriage, Manus glanced at the retreating deer.

"Are there bears or wolves around here?"

"There are indeed wolves in these parts, but there's no need to worry."

Griffin helped Aivina carry down the bags and parcels from the carriage. As he spoke, he set some luggage aside, pulled a wand from inside his coat, and lightly waved it several times from top to bottom.

"There. Now neither wild beasts, Muggles, nor those annoying Death Eaters will come disturb us."

Manus first looked around. Without magic yet, he could not use detection spells to sense the magical auras nearby. Then he looked back at Griffin.

"Death Eaters?"

It sounded like some kind of evil organization.

"Hmm, they're a bunch of lunatics who've turned the wizarding world into a complete mess..."

Griffin frowned as he spoke, only for Aivina to tug at him.

"It's Manu's birthday today. What are you talking about?"

Griffin came back to his senses.

"Oh, right. Let's hurry and stack the firewood, then take out the meat and everything else—does anyone want roasted marshmallows?"

Manus blinked and did not press the matter.

"I'll help skewer the marshmallows."

There was nothing complicated about skewering marshmallows. Find a clean stump to use as a chair, put a large bag of marshmallows on the left and metal skewers with wooden handles on the right. One marshmallow on each skewer was enough.

It was, well, perfectly suited for getting four-year-old Manus involved in the work.

These were mainly for passing the time and having one occasionally after the main meal, more for the atmosphere than anything else. If they really wanted to fill their stomachs, they would have to rely on Aivina and Griffin.

Alcohol was excellent at removing the gamey sourness from beef, though it did cost a bit more. Fortunately, Manus's family truly lived up to their golden surname: they were not only wealthy, but owned businesses as well, including several wineries scattered across the Highlands.

First, they cleaned the flint slab. Then they took the whole beef rib, which had been treated with alcohol in advance, from its wax-paper wrapping and placed it on the slab, cutting it into ribs two fingers thick.

Taking out the seasoning bottles, Griffin evenly sprinkled coarse salt and a pinch of crushed black pepper over each rib, rubbing the seasonings into every piece of meat.

Aivina was not idle either. She diced onions and bell peppers, then mashed several wild berries into juice. After mixing them together, a simple sweet-and-sour barbecue sauce was ready.

Walking over to Griffin, Aivina slowly poured the sauce evenly over the ribs, then laid a layer of leaves on top, completely covering them.

They were wild berry leaves. Sealing the upper layer of the ribs could effectively reduce the evaporation of meat juices. Combined with the moisture-rich sauce, the final result was sure to be stunning. One cut would send juices flowing everywhere.

"Incendio!"

Anyone who had camped often or burned firewood before knew that freshly cut wood contained too much moisture. It was hard to light and produced thick smoke, especially wood found by a lake.

Fortunately, they had brought their own firewood. With such a spacious carriage compartment, they could do whatever they wanted.

While waiting for the meat to cook, Manus held a marshmallow near the fire to roast it, eagerly anticipating the finished meal.

Just listening to the sounds, he could imagine how the ridges of the flint slab would sear cracked brown char marks into the ribs' surface, and how the fine bubbles of fat between the layers would burst forth with a marvelous fragrance.

Just before they were done, Aivina would seize the perfect moment to add a pinch of pine needles beneath the ribs—

This would keep the ribs from overcooking while adding a faint fragrance and bitterness to their final flavor, making the sweet-and-sour sauce and the crisp, rich aroma of wine deep within the ribs stand out all the more.

At that moment, Manus suddenly froze.

He could feel a strange change taking place in his body. Magic spontaneously emerged, as though it had been hiding deep within him all along.

At the same time, his body responded to that magic. His bloodline stirred, causing it to multiply.

Although the total amount was not great, the astonishing rate at which it increased created a degree of uncontrollability. The magic instinctively responded to every thought Manus had.

It was somewhat like a zero-circle transmutation spell—Prestidigitation.

It was a method of producing simple magical effects without a spell model, relying solely on basic magical guidance, usually some simple, targeted words and gestures. To a spellcaster, it truly was little more than a small trick.

If that were all, Manus could naturally have controlled it with ease. The problem was that after merging with the mental power he had cultivated through years of meditation, this not-so-large amount of magic formed a surging wave.

For a child who had only turned five today, that wave was simply unstoppable.

Before the tempting image of the ribs in his mind had even fully faded, Manus felt the sudden, utterly unexpected magic surge toward the sizzling stone slab before him.

Manus's eyes flew wide open.

"Don't—"

"BOOM!!!"

The tornado-like pillar of fire that shot skyward was the magical wave's response to Manus's wish to eat cooked ribs.

Prestidigitation should only have been able to affect flames the size of a candle flame, yet for some reason—whether because too much magic had been poured into it or otherwise—it erupted with the power of a third-circle spell.

No, merely increasing the amount of magic would not have amplified Prestidigitation to such an extent.

Even stunned by the sight before him, Manus instinctively rejected his own guess. There had to be some other factor at work.

As the flames slowly faded, Manus looked at the nearly carbonized ribs on the stone slab, and his vision went dark. He could not help raising a hand to clutch his chest.

It hurt. It hurt so much. The ribs he had been looking forward to eating for so long had become this, and the blow was so devastating that Manus temporarily forgot the joy of regaining magic.

But Griffin and Aivina were clearly not focused on the ribs.

"Was that... a Magical Outburst?"

Griffin spoke in a tone that was stunned, delighted, and somewhat uncertain.

"An outburst?"

Manus, who had not lost his mind, quickly came back to his senses. That did not sound like a good term. Did it mean being unable to control magic?

But the accident just now had mainly been caused by his years of meditation abruptly causing his magic to surge. Otherwise, with the amount of magic he originally had, it would never have broken free of Manus's control so suddenly.

Would what happened just now make Griffin and Aivina think he lacked talent?