The birth of the Thunderbird temporarily eased Hoffa's obsession with overcoming the bottleneck in his Transfiguration studies. Every day, he would make time to help Joey feed Maya. For some reason, he felt a strong connection to the newborn creature, almost as if she were his own child.
This bird was unlike any ordinary magical creature from the Forbidden Forest.
In just one week of frenzied feeding, she had grown to the size of an owl.
However, her body was much slimmer than an owl's. She had long tail feathers, silver-gray wings, pale yellow eyes, and a brown beak.
Without a doubt, she was a beautiful and elegant creature.
She could already fly, though unlike Talas, she had only two wings, resembling a long-tailed hawk.
Joey explained, "Thunderbirds live a very long time. As they age, they grow additional pairs of wings, which signify their maturity and development."
Every day, Hoffa would observe Maya as she ate. He would stroke her smooth feathers and gently press her slender bones.
At first, when she was still small, Hoffa could do this.
But a week later, when she grew to the size of a golden eagle, it was no longer possible.
She stopped perching in Hoffa's hands to beg for food and instead stood proudly atop the treetop house. Hoffa had to raise his hand high to feed her. She was proud and intelligent, rarely chirping but clearly understanding her name and Hoffa's intentions.
Normally, the bigger a bird grows, the more it eats. But as Maya's feathers filled out, Joey began reducing her food supply.
By late April, when Hoffa visited the treehouse in the woods, he found Joey fully equipped and standing at the door with Maya perched on his shoulder. There was no food prepared.
"Aren't we feeding her today?" Hoffa asked.
Joey shook his head. "When a Thunderbird matures, it no longer needs human care. On the contrary, it blesses humans. It can sense human needs and pain.
In ancient America, when people faced droughts, they would seek out a Thunderbird and kneel to pray to it.
If the Thunderbird was in a good mood, it would spread its wings and soar across the sky, bringing rainstorms wherever it went. Long ago, entire tribes depended on it for survival."
"But this is Europe," Hoffa pointed out. "Europe doesn't lack rain. Why bring her here?"
"Her previous three owners are dead, and the tribes she cared for were wiped out by American colonists. If possible, I want to find her a relatively peaceful environment."
You've come to the wrong place for that, Hoffa thought. This region is about to become one of the most chaotic in the world.
"Come on," Joey said enthusiastically. "Today is her first solo hunt. You should see it."
The two of them walked toward the area around the Black Lake. Before long, Hoffa saw a ferocious wild boar locked in a wooden cage, squealing loudly.
Hoffa gave Joey a skeptical look. So much for hunting—this is just switching from feeding dead prey to live prey.
Joey shrugged, and Maya shot forward, her wings flapping. Her wingspan was nearly two meters now—impressive for an ordinary bird, though still small compared to Talas.
Joey flicked his wand, and the wooden cage holding the boar shattered with a loud crack.
Maya swooped in, wings spread, talons outstretched, charging fiercely at her target.
But the boar was also strong and aggressive. It turned its head and roared, ramming its sharp tusks into Maya's underbelly. Furious, it began charging wildly, with Maya caught in its path.
Thud!
A dull sound echoed as leaves rained down.
The boar slammed her hard against a tree.
Seeing Maya struggle, Hoffa instinctively stepped forward to help.
To his surprise, Joey grabbed his arm firmly.
"Don't interfere. This is her battle."
Hoffa glanced at Maya. "Isn't it dangerous?"
Joey crossed his arms calmly and said, "A Thunderbird doesn't need sympathy or comfort. In fact, human comfort and sympathy only make it weak. What it needs is battle—a test of nature's laws."
Sure enough, after being slammed into the tree, Maya let out a sharp cry and flapped her wings forcefully.
The sky suddenly darkened. Over Hoffa's head, a small storm cloud began to gather. The cloud swirled together, and then came a deafening crack.
A bolt of lightning, as thick as an arm, flashed so brightly that Hoffa was nearly blinded.
The wild boar convulsed violently as it was struck. Maya seized the moment, diving forward and piercing its throat with her talons.
The strong wild boar didn't suffer for long. After a few kicks, it collapsed lifelessly.
Having succeeded in her first hunt, Maya cried out in excitement and soared into the sky, reaching about 20 meters. She circled repeatedly, streaks of lightning illuminating the air around her. The storm clouds seemed like her companions, rolling and morphing into various shapes as they surrounded her.
From afar, Hoffa watched the Thunderbird, observing her playful manipulation of the storm clouds. Suddenly, a realization sparked within him—a faint glimmer of understanding grew brighter.
The scene of the Thunderbird altering the shape of the clouds was strikingly similar to the way Grindelwald manipulated the landscape!
Turning to Joey, Hoffa asked, "Joey, does the Thunderbird know Transfiguration?"
Joey's cheerful expression froze for a moment before he looked away.
"Transfiguration? What are you talking about? A Thunderbird is just a magical creature. Maya doesn't control Transfiguration. The clouds are merely drawn to her, nothing more."
"Drawn to her?"
Hoffa's eyes widened. "What do you mean by that?"
"The clouds aren't being manipulated or transformed. They're changing on their own, drawn to Maya's presence. She's simply playing with them. It's common for magical creatures to have a natural psychic field like this."
Psychic field? Changing automatically?
Hoffa watched as Maya joyfully rolled through the clouds, playing freely with the lightning. The glimmer of realization in his heart grew brighter and brighter.
He began to grasp a deeper understanding of the essence of Transfiguration.
So the Thunderbird wasn't forcibly altering external objects—it was changing its own psychic field to attract the storm clouds.
He recalled what Morgan had once said:
"Trying to alter external objects with magic is crude, boring, foolish, and meaningless. A true master of Transfiguration seeks to alter themselves. Once the self is transformed, all things will follow suit."
Change oneself.
Change oneself!!
Hoffa suddenly lifted his head as clarity flooded his mind.
A bolt of inspiration struck him like lightning. The barrier that had confused him for so long was finally pierced.
He understood.
At last, he understood!
Closing his eyes, Hoffa let his magic flow into the ground, guided by his spirit. At that moment, he stopped trying to force control over Transfiguration. Instead, he opened himself to the breath of the earth, the desires of all things, and began to change his own psychic field.
In this moment, the meditative techniques of the Milarepa walkers became profoundly useful. With heightened awareness, he expanded his sensitivity.
He could hear the whispers of the elements, see the immense power of the world around him. He attempted to transform himself, to merge with it all.
In that instant, Hoffa felt as though he were standing on a vast piece of clay. The earth began to mold itself around him, spiraling beneath his feet. It formed into a colossal hand-like throne, lifting him high into the air.
Joey's eyes widened in shock, and he couldn't stop himself from shouting.
"Kid, what are you doing?"
The ground began to tremble slightly, and leaves in the Forbidden Forest rustled and fell.
Hoffa rose higher and higher, spreading his arms wide as he stood amidst the forest, laughing heartily.
As his laughter echoed, the trembling grew more intense.
"I understand! I understand!"
Old Joey cursed loudly, "Kid, stop it right now!"
Boom!What answered him was a massive arm made of earth.
The arm shot up from the ground, grabbing Joey tightly and lifting him into the air.
But that wasn't the end. Countless shapes began forming from the earth beneath Hoffa's feet—kneeling figures resembling living beings, as though they were witnessing the birth of an extraordinary legend.
Joey yelled in fury, "What kind of magic is this? Put me down!"
"So that's how it is!"
Hoffa laughed joyously and gave a flick of his wand without even speaking a word.
Joey was promptly dropped back to the ground.
In that moment, the bottleneck was broken.
Hoffa's mastery of Transfiguration had ascended to an entirely new level. He no longer needed to forcefully control magic or transformation. Instead, he had entered a realm where his psychic field attracted change naturally.
Having broken through, Hoffa now viewed the "Shatter Grip" that had troubled him for two months as nothing more than a trivial challenge.
He didn't need incantations or extravagant gestures. All he needed was to change himself—to harmonize with his surroundings.
Though his abilities weren't as dramatic as Grindelwald splitting an entire island, the essence of their power had become remarkably similar.
Hoffa descended step by step from the giant earthen hand. The soil beneath his feet formed steps automatically as he walked. Maya circled around his head in flight before perching on his shoulder.
The large weight caused Hoffa to stagger slightly, but he still smiled contentedly, gently stroking her smooth tail feathers.
In a soft voice, he said, "Thank you, Maya."
The Thunderbird let out a happy cry, flapping her wings as if to say, You're welcome.
(End of Chapter)
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