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Infinity: Rise of an Empire

Chapter Three

Harry tried not to stare. It was not as if he didn't know any beautiful women or had never seen any before. But he had never really seen any of them naked before—outside one of his very few teenage dreams of them, at least. Nor had he been with anyone that intimately for that matter.

The furthest he had ever gone with anyone was making out with them, and maybe copping a bit of a feel in the process. The most undressed he had seen anyone was either in their underwear or in bathing suits. He had never even had a serious relationship to begin with, only a few brief flings. Not for any lack of desire on his part, of course.

With the whole Dark Lord trying to kill him thing going on, it got progressively more difficult to have any intimate relationships with anyone. A teenage boy with rampant hormones he may have been, but self-preservation and being forced to grow up and mature far faster than anyone else had a chilling effect on much of his adolescent thoughts.

Now though, he realized that was all well and truly behind him. Tom Riddle was dead. The Death Eaters were completely destroyed. Victory was finally at hand. He was now free to live life the way he wanted to.

Getting to his feet, and careful not to fall over as he still felt a little woozy, he pulled a temperature-controlled blanket from one of his magically enhanced traveling pouches attached to his belt. Throwing the blanket over the unconscious young woman who wielded untold power, he stepped away and moved to examine the fallen Death Eaters.

After making sure they were all actually deceased, he proceeded to loot their bodies of anything valuable. While the Jade Dragons might have resisted such a temptation, Harry was not about to let anything useful go to waste. Especially if these were things liberated from his enemies. At worst, he could simply sell or give the items away to someone who could actually find use for them. Better than letting them sit here for any random person to come by and take them.

They had a surprising amount of gold on them, along with a healthy pile of supplies, trinkets, and treasures. He took their wands and even retrieved his old Phoenix Feather wand from where the hallway had collapsed on him earlier. Unfortunately, his Phoenix Feather wand had broken in half. Perhaps there was still a way to repair it—at the very least he could reuse the core.

By the time he had looted all twelve bodies of anything valuable and returned to the still-sleeping form of Death, he began to wonder what was next for him. His quest was officially over, so now what was he to do?

Take a long vacation, perhaps? Out of anyone, he believed he deserved it the most after all it had been through. He had been the primary target of all Voldemort's plans, after all. But beyond that, what else did could he do? What did he want to do? He had spent so much of the past decade trying to merely survive that he never really took much time to think about what he would do after the war was over.

Sure, he had discussed it a few times with Ron and Hermione and a few of the others he considered close to him, but it was one thing to talk about such matters in the midst of a war—and things were looking pretty bleak at the time, so the future was not guaranteed—and another matter entirely to actually know he was now free to do whatever he pleased without a Dark Lord or his minions trying to kill him and destroy everything he loved.

He started pacing, arms crossed over his chest. Becoming an Auror was something he had been thinking of for a while. With the war decimating the Auror corps, there was certainly a need for more of them in the coming years. Decades even. Plus, it made a lot of sense. He was used to fighting dark wizards and doing the right thing. But becoming an Auror meant working for the Ministry, and he definitely had mixed feelings about that.

Harry supposed he could always go into professional Quidditch too. That road would certainly lead to even more money and fame than he already had. Not that he would do it for either of those reasons. It would simply be for the love of the game, as well as making people happy by playing a sport that he loved. Eventually, even representing his country in the World Cup—and winning—would be quite an achievement.

His thoughts turned to Hogwarts, and he realized he could potentially become a professor there. Teaching the future generations of witches and wizards was a noble calling. He would get to stay at a place where, despite the many dangers to his life over the years, he really felt at home. Not only that, he would get to rebuild and improve it too. McGonagall would certainly need some help on that front.

With a sigh, he understood that at this point he could not yet decide on his next course of action. He would need more time to think and figure things out. Besides, there was one major thing now that had changed in his life. And he had a feeling it would undoubtedly shape the rest of his life moving forward.

He stopped pacing and turned back to look at the sleeping young woman… only to realize, she was no longer sleeping.

"Y-You're awake!" he exclaimed in surprise.

She was sitting upright, legs folded to the side and hands on her lap and was staring at him once more. Harry immediately averted his gaze and with a strong effort of will he kept himself from stealing glances at the clearly clueless young woman.

"You know, I put a blanket over you for a reason," he said with mild exasperation. "Do you even understand the concept of clothing?"

"Does it bother you, master?"

"Of course, it bloody bothers me! You're naked!"

She frowned and looked down at herself, reaching up with a hand to lightly grasp one of her breasts. "I thought this is what human males preferred to look at. Does this form not please you, master?"

"What?! That's not… I mean… wait a minute!" Harry did a double take, only to immediately avert his eyes again, heat rising on his cheeks. He cleared his throat loudly. "You can speak. I didn't think you could."

"I can speak and understand almost any civilized language in the known universe, master."

"You didn't say a word when we met the first time in that… well, wherever that was."

"I was still in the process of forming, master. While in that state, yes, I could not communicate as you would normally. But as you can see, my formation is complete now."

"Formation?" Harry furrowed his brow, though he still refrained from looking at her, deciding to instead keep her in his peripheral vision. And only at the outermost edges. It was for the best, given her current state of undress.

She nodded sagely, and as she spoke, she raised a hand and slowly turned it over while studying it closely, as if to admire the craftsmanship of her own body. "I am what you would call a personification of death, master. Death is a natural force of the universe, and therefore it encompasses the whole universe. Its energies and powers are spread quite thin on a grand scale. In order to become corporeal, those energies have to gather and condense. Thus, this body and this personification was formed."

"You make it sound like this is a normal occurrence," Harry said.

She shrugged. "It does not happen very often, master. In fact, it is incredibly rare in the grand scale of the cosmos, but this is not the first time a personification has been created. Nor is it likely to be the last."

Harry had a million and one questions he wanted to ask but decided on asking the most important question first. While he had a sinking feeling he knew the answer, he wanted to be sure.

"When you… communicated with me in that other realm, you mentioned you had appeared there specifically for me. I thought that meant you were there to take me to the afterlife. But here I am, back in my body in my own world, alive and well. So that was clearly not the case. You say this isn't the first time death has been personified… so why were you created this time? Why are you actually here?"

"Because of you, master," she said.

Harry sighed. "I got that much, yes. But why me specifically?" He really hoped there wasn't some sort of prophecy involved in all this. He was really going to be pissed off at the universe if it did.

She cocked her head to the side again, this time giving him a curious look. "Because you are a Master of Death," she said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

-=H=-

Harry started pacing again. Thankfully, he managed to convince Death—he really ought to find some other name to call her—to finally put some clothes on. She was on her feet now, standing nearly as tall as Harry. Her entire outfit reminded him of Wonder Woman from the comics he had stolen away in the dead of night from his cousin Dudley on rare occasions back when he was still living with the Dursleys.

Except, where Wonder Woman's outfit was multi-colored, Death's outfit was appropriately mostly black with gray accents. Or perhaps that was silver?

Her jet-black hair was no longer messy and flowed beautifully down to her exposed shoulders. The leather top she wore fit snugly against her slim frame, emphasizing her ample bosom while leaving her upper chest, shoulders, and mid-riff exposed, showing off her smooth, creamy skin.

Her lower body was clothed in tight leather short-shorts and thigh-high boots, leaving about a hand's length of bare skin on her legs. She was definitely giving off sexy heroine or even villainess vibes and wouldn't look out of place on a fashion show runway or a designer catalogue.

At least now he could actually look at her properly while they talked. Sort of. She still had him feeling and thinking a certain way purely because of how attractive she looked, but he ignored his baser instincts as best he could.

She had explained some more of their current situation, confirming his suspicions. Sure enough, possessing all three Deathly Hallows meant that one was qualified to become a Master of Death. However, unbeknownst to practically anyone who had heard of the tale of the three brothers and their deal with death, you actually had to literally die in order to truly become a Master of Death.

That was why Dumbledore, despite having all three hallows at one point in his life, never became a Master of Death himself. No one would have thought to kill themselves in order to become a Master of Death—the price of being wrong was of course far too high. Eventually, the old wizard must have thought it to be purely a myth, hence why he returned Harry's family heirloom, the Invisibility Cloak, without much fuss early on. And eventually passed on the other hallows too.

If Dumbledore only knew what he knew now, Harry imagined things would have definitely turned out very differently. Of course, it was a fluke that Harry had even stumbled across this, not that he would really bother telling anyone that. He very well might have done the same thing as Dumbledore eventually had he not had the misfortune, or in this case fortune, to die when he did.

"So, you're telling me I'm now immortal?"

Death nodded. "Precisely, master. You will not age and cannot die by natural causes. Your body should have also been enhanced to make you highly resistant to poisons and immune to diseases. You're also more durable and have a much improved healing factor. If you so choose, you could technically live forever until the end of time."

"You sound as if I could choose to die even though I'm immortal."

"Of course you can, master," she said with a smile. "You are a Master of Death, which means you get to choose if, when, and how you die. So, if you never actually want to die, then you can live for all eternity." The explanation was given so simply it was as if she was merely commenting on the weather, not talking about the possibility of living forever.

Harry took a deep breath and rubbed his temples. This was certainly a lot to take in. It's not every day you get told you're now an immortal being. He had a feeling it wouldn't really hit him until later, considering how calm he currently was. For now, he needed to get as much information as he could so that he could figure out what to do next.

"But while I may be immortal, it sounds like I'm not invincible or invulnerable. Am I?"

This time, she shook her head. "No, you are not. Unfortunately, master, you can still get injured and seriously hurt if you're not careful. And you'll still feel pain. But you can never truly die without your explicit consent. Even if your entire body were to be completely destroyed, which would be an extremely painful experience and therefore not something I'd recommend you try, your soul would without a doubt survive, and your flesh would eventually reform."

"Glad we clarified that," he said thoughtfully.

Harry was no stranger to pain. His threshold for pain was undoubtedly higher than most people after everything he had been through over the years. How many times had he experienced the Cruciatus? Or broken bones? Then there were the occlumency 'lessons' with Snape, and the blood quill incident with Umbridge.

Despite now being immortal, Harry would still make sure to be mindful of avoiding pain as much as reasonably possible. While he could tolerate a greater degree of punishment these days, that did not mean he wanted to. He was neither a masochist nor was he insane.

Still, being immortal did mean he could potentially do crazier and riskier things than anyone with their right mind would even consider doing, which could prove useful in the future. Let alone Dumbledore, he also imagined how furious Tom Riddle would be if he knew that Harry had now achieved the true immortality that he had been fighting painfully and futilely all his miserable life to achieve.

"What about powers? Any differences there?" he asked.

"Now that you are a Master of Death, you can more easily access and manipulate magic in general. This is one of the improvements made to your body. From what I've sensed about you, master, you already have an exceptional magical core and higher than average affinity for magic. That will all be improved and magnified because of your newfound position. You'll also be able to fully manipulate death energies. That is, any negative energy in the universe. Death Magic, if you prefer. I can, of course, teach you more about that when you are ready."

Harry raised an eyebrow at her. "You mean I'm not ready now?"

She bowed her head at him. "Forgive me, master, but you are too weak in your current state to properly wield such powerful magic. While you would not die from the attempt to wield such power, it would probably be incredibly painful and may cause untold destruction to your immediate vicinity. I would recommend training as soon as possible in order to strengthen yourself, both to better protect yourself and to access such higher levels of magic without endangering yourself and those around you."

Harry snorted. "I see. Can't argue with you there. I may be capable in some respects, but my training and studies have been pretty… haphazard over the years. And that's putting it mildly." He let out a long sigh and held up the Elder Wand in front of his face to inspect it closely. "I guess that pretty much answers the question of what I'll be doing next. It will be nice to actually train and study properly for once, without the threat of impending doom and death hanging over my head every hour of every day. Although, taking a short break wouldn't hurt either. It's been a long two years on the road, on top of everything that happened before."

"Wherever you decide to go, master, I will follow."

Harry turned his attention back to her and studied her closely. "We've covered the basics about me, I think. So, what about you? What's your story?" he asked.

"Forgive me, master, but I don't quite understand what you're asking." She looked quizzically at him, her head cocking to the side again. "I thought I already explained who I was and how I came to be here. Was this explanation insufficient in some way? I do apologize if it was."

"No, no. What I mean is, what exactly is your role in all this? You keep calling me master, but I assumed that was because of my title, or perhaps because it was the respectful way to address a young bachelor in older times. But now that I think about it…" He rubbed the back of his neck as he trailed off with some discomfort.

He was not used to having servants, having grown up the way he did. He imagined he would have had servants had his parents been alive, considering how wealthy they were. Particularly his father's side, which was technically part of Wizarding England nobility. Even Dobby, rest his soul, had been somewhat of a servant he had reluctantly accepted. Mostly because of the creature's temperament. He would have definitely hurt and potentially even killed himself had Harry rejected him outright.

To have Death as his actual servant, though? That was both amazing and terrifying. Most men would kill and destroy countless lives to be in his position. He would have to figure out what she could do, and how best to… control her? No, perhaps utilize is a better word. He already knew this was going to take a lot of getting used to.

With her sexy outfit, curvaceous body, and elegantly beautiful face, she could easily turn heads in most corners of the world. Yep. Men would have no qualms starting fights or even wars if it meant having her as a servant or partner, if history was any indication.

"I am here to serve you as my master," she answered easily enough. "Every Master of Death has a direct servant of Death formed of the same race as them. Our task is to serve you, guide you, and protect you, until you choose to dismiss us or relinquish your title as a Master of Death."

"That's what I was afraid of," Harry mumbled. He was definitely uncomfortable with the whole master-servant thing. But he doubted she would accept any other arrangement. At least for the moment. He would indulge her and give it some time.

"You are afraid of me, master?" She actually sounded surprised.

"Should I be?"

"Of course, not. For as long as I am in your service, I am bound to serve you and never betray you with every fiber of my being. And I promise I would never disappoint you either. I assure you that my services will be of great use to you, whatever you decide to do."

"I see," he said lamely.

What else was he supposed to say to that? That was a lot. The weight of what she said felt so immense he could have sworn he had physically gotten heavier, as if the responsibility of having her around literally weighed on him. If he was not ready for any servant to begin with, he was absolutely not ready for a servant of this caliber.

Changing the subject so as to avoid thinking about it any further, he cleared his throat and said, "So, you're technically human right now?"

"Yes, master. Though you may say I am an… enhanced version of a human. Stronger, faster, and more durable. My body and yours are similarly built. Though mine has already been fine-tuned whereas yours is more of a blank slate at present, allowing you to train your body as you see fit."

"Straight out of a comic book, indeed," he whispered under his breath. Or a video game, he added in his thoughts. Maybe he could take some time to try playing some video games now that he didn't have a war to fight.

Death's lips twitched into a smirk. "I also have enhanced senses, master. Including hearing. So I can hear clearly even if someone whispers from across this hall."

Harry chuckled, slightly embarrassed. "Right. Of course, you do." Before he could say anything more, a loud grumbling sound emanated from Death's abdomen. Harry looked at her with an amused expression as he witnessed the first embarrassed look on her face he had seen thus far.

"It seems this form requires sustenance, master," she said.

"I guess your enhanced body also means you have an enhanced appetite," he said with a grin.

She actually fidgeted a little, much to his surprise and further amusement. "It's not a big deal, master. I am incapable of dying from hunger, so you need not trouble your—"

"It's fine," he cut her off. "I was thinking it's about time for us to leave this place and stretch our legs anyway. We can take in the sights and find some local cuisine to sample. Besides, this is my first time in China. Might as well take a look around now that I have some free time."

-=H=-

"This seemed like a way better idea in my head," Harry grumbled as they clambered over yet another precarious cliff.

The snow-capped mountains here were massive, far greater than any he had seen before. They seemed even larger and more expansive than the Alps, brief though his visit had been through those lands. A vast alpine forest stretched across the lower range of the mountains and into the valleys between them, dense with trees and, in some areas, surprisingly thick foliage.

Flocks of birds would fly here and there. Birds of prey flew high in the sky. Every now and again there would be movement through the trees as various animals went about their day. Some distance away, the sunlight sparkled off of a large, glacier-fed lake. It was turning out to be quite a hike through the wilderness.

Harry had been so focused on his task hunting the last remaining Death Eaters that he had not really taken much time to truly appreciate his surroundings beyond what was absolutely necessary to know while tracking and observing his targets.

They had left the hidden temple near midday and had managed to travel eastward deeper into the mountains for the last few hours. He could have flown, or even used apparition, to make traveling much easier, but a part of him really wanted to flex his muscles and get a workout in.

Mostly he was simply testing his current physical abilities and figuring out what his baseline was for further training, but he was also feeling restless after meeting Death and learning of his new situation. He needed to move and blow off some excess energy.

He kept a steady pace, faster than a leisurely walk but short of jogging. Whenever he could, he also chose to climb rock formations and cliff faces to improve his climbing ability and grip strength.

One reason he had an advantage despite fighting older and more experienced wizards during the war was because of his athletic ability. He was able to move and react quicker than they could to the changing situations in a battle. Not that they weren't moving themselves, since they could dodge and weave too, but they might as well have been standing still compared to what Harry could do.

Based on his experience thus far, most European-trained wizards tended to fight in a fairly rigid, direct manner. Basically, dueling in an uncontrolled environment. While this worked well enough in small-scale confrontations, during a larger battle they were more prone to getting outflanked and outsmarted, with little situational awareness and teamwork. Most European wizards were also, on average, unathletic and soft, again relying more on the strength of their magic than their physical abilities to win in a fight.

Recently though, after his brief encounter with the Jade Dragons where they showed superior athletic ability—it was highly likely they were also using magic to enhance their considerable physical abilities, though he couldn't tell for sure—he found it even more important to train not only his mind and his magic, but also his body.

By European wizarding standards he was arguably already a peak physical specimen, but it seemed compared to other parts of the world he still had a long way to go to truly be considered top tier.

His legs and arms were sore and tired, but he was actually holding up much better than he expected. His newly reforged body was definitely much improved than before. Not that he thought Death was lying about the improvements to his body. It was one thing to be told about something, and another thing to actually experience it for himself.

Following close behind him was Death, who seemed not to be troubled at all by the grueling physical nature of their journey through these blasted mountains. She never seemed out of breath, nor did she appear to be tired. She never complained either or made any noises to show she was exerting herself at all. She certainly did not make him feel any better about the situation, regardless of her identity, while he loudly huffed and puffed his way up and down the mountainsides.

To take his mind off of how tired he was, and taking a moment to catch his breath, he plopped down on a rock outcropping with a clear view of the thick forest below and began to think of potential names for his new companion. The thought of having to constantly refer to her as Death was starting to weigh on him.

"Persephone?" he said aloud, testing how it sounded. "Hmm. No, that's a bit too long, I think. Freya? That could work. Or even Hela. Short, sweet, and with a bit of gravitas at the same time. But they don't quite suit you, I think…" He trailed off, frowning as he realized his knowledge of names linked with death were limited. Chalk yet another thing up to his relatively poor educational upbringing.

"So, what do you think?" he asked after a few minutes of silence.

Death was standing a few steps behind him, eyes constantly scanning for threats in an imitation of constant vigilance that the long dead Mad-Eye Moody would have been proud of enough to maybe even shed a tear of joy.

"Pardon, master?" she said, blinking and focusing her attention on him.

"What do you think of the names I've mentioned so far? Any of them to your liking?"

"You need not give me a name, master," she said with a shrug.

Harry shook his head. "Nope, that won't work either. I need to call you something, and I can't just keep calling you Death. That would draw far too much attention and raise a lot of unwanted questions. We need to give you a proper, more normal name before we arrive in civilization. Also, we need to differentiate you from the other Deaths out there, should the need ever arise. Besides, even I feel a little weird just calling you Death too, if I'm being completely honest."

She lowered her head, closing her eyes in a subservient manner. "If that is how you feel and what you wish, master, then I will accept any name you deem fit to bestow upon me."

"Not helpful," he declared, half-amused and half-annoyed.

"Sorry, master." She truly did sound apologetic, which made him feel kind of bad. "Most other Masters of Death had never bothered to give their Death servants a name. It matters little to us. We will serve regardless."

"Well, it matters to me," Harry said in a bit of a huff, leaning back on his arms and closing his eyes as he tilted his head back to enjoy a breeze blowing in. The crisp mountain air was certainly refreshing. "Besides, I don't want to be like every other Master of Death before me. Speaking of which, you make it sound almost like there is more than one current Master of Death." He opened one eye and watched her from the corner of his vision.

"That's because there are more than one currently, master," she acknowledged.

Harry turned his head sharply, both eyes open as she fixed her with a hard stare. "You're joking."

"I would not make light of such a thing, master."

"Bloody hell… How many are there?" he asked, feeling anxious all of a sudden.

If there was someone out there like him, but with far more experience and power, it would likely be troublesome if they decided to pay him a visit. Not that he was afraid of dying, since he couldn't actually die, but he could be in for a world of pain and suffering. A fate worse than death.

"There are countless Masters of Death across infinite dimensions, master. Some dimensions have more than one, while most have one or even none. But the chances of two Masters of Death meeting are incredibly small, master. Even if they happen to be in the same dimension."

Being told that the multiverse existed was yet another mind-blowing revelation that he was not prepared for on top of a whole stack of things he had yet to fully process. The beneficial possibilities of the multiverse were endless, and of course the potential for limitless adventure, but the terrible dangers it poised were all too real as well. Without a doubt, there were threats far more dangerous and terrifying than Voldemort out there.

Swallowing hard and trying not to think too much about it for the moment, Harry pressed on with his more immediate worry.

"And in this dimension? How many masters are there?" Please only say one, please only say one.

She did not reply right away, as if she were checking for the answer somehow. "Three, master. Including yourself."

"Three?!" That was definitely far from ideal and not what he was expecting at all.

"Correct, master." She did not seem the least bit disturbed by this news.

"How can there be three?! That seems like far too many for one dimension. You couldn't, I don't know, put a limit on it per dimension?"

She shrugged. "The circumstances of a Master of Death coming into their powers and title are often very different from each other, master. The Deathly Hallows are unique to this world. It appears three lucky individuals, yourself included, happened to find the right circumstances, and pass the right challenges, in this dimension. From eons of collective memories, it appears this is not even the highest number in one dimension before. That would be seven."

Trying to calm himself, Harry struggled to maintain his composure as he spoke. "You say the chances of meeting another Master of Death are small, so… that means there must have been some meetings between them before, right? How did those go exactly?" Harry was not sure he wanted to know the answer to that, but he was of the belief it was better to know and deal with the consequences of knowing than to not know things and be ignorant.

"Meetings between Masters of Death tend to be… violent. And destructive. But not all of them are, master. Still, it's why we tend to spread the masters out far enough away from each other that the chances of meeting are close to zero."

"But not zero," Harry pointed out.

"Correct. With enough accumulated power and knowledge, eventually a Master of Death could traverse the distances between you and eventually force a meeting, whether inter or intradimensionally, if they so wished. However, the vast majority tend to stick to their own spheres of influence, which usually spans one or several galaxies at most. A battle between two undying forces is generally never good for anyone involved, nor is it good for the universe as a whole. It's not like you can permanently kill each other, after all, while everything around you is in jeopardy."

Harry ran a hand through his hair. "Why do they even bother, then?"

"There are many reasons, master, but mostly it comes down to boredom. Or simply a desire to fight an equal."

"Seriously? They would go through all that bloody trouble and potentially cause chaos and destruction on a cosmic scale purely because of bloody boredom?" he asked incredulously.

"Some masters live for tens of thousands of years. Even hundreds of thousands. After all that time, there is generally nothing new left to accomplish," she said with a hint of sorrow.

"That… makes a lot of sense, actually," he conceded. One price of immortality is that eventually, there would be nothing left for life to give. In that event, one of the few exciting things left was to throw things into disarray on purpose, or seek out a fight with someone of relatively equal strength and status.

"And there are two other such masters in the same dimension as me?" Harry said softly, shaking his head. Two others with potentially limitless power and knowledge that could easily squash him like a bug if they happen to be bored? Fan-fuckin'-tastic.

"The closest one is hundreds of galaxies away, master," she said reassuringly.

Harry let out a breath and shook his head once more. "I suppose that does make me feel a little better. But not by much."

That was pretty far away. He couldn't even fully wrap his head around how distant that truly was. But then again, they could probably use some crazy magic to fold space-time or whatever and make a portal that traverses all that distance instantaneously. Magic was still magic, after all.

"We are also not allowed to give the precise locations of the other masters, although we can give vague directions if asked," she added. "Especially if masters appear to be closing in on each other unknowingly."

He eyed her closely. "Are you allowed to join the fighting if there turned out to be a conflict between masters?"

"Not exactly," she replied carefully. "We are not allowed to harm any of the masters or death servants, so we can help in any other ways that do not directly attack the masters or the other death servants."

Harry sighed. "I was hoping that wasn't case… but I understand the reasoning for it. And I suppose it's better than sitting out of a conflict completely." It also meant that he could not solely rely on Death to deal with all his problems, not that he was planning on doing that in the first place. He would much rather take care of things on his own if he could, using Death only as support and help when he needed it. A measure of last resort too, if he found himself outmatched or at an impasse.

With his thoughts churning over this new piece of information regarding the other masters, he asked one more question. "You're sure the probability of meeting another master is close to zero?"

"I'm sure, master," she said confidently. "I will of course monitor the others in this dimension in case one happens to decide to make their way towards us. I'm sure the others would do the same for their masters."

"Well, not much I can do about any of that other than to prepare for the worst and hope for the best, I suppose," he said, lying down on the ground with his arms folded up and hands beneath his head as he stared up at the clouds moving across the pale blue sky.

He was planning to train himself up regardless of such an existential threat to mankind, but now there was even more of an incentive to get more powerful. And fast. While he could not die, the potential for this world to be destroyed or get taken over by some unknown enemy with enormous power that he could not defeat was too much for him to bear.

This was his home. As terrible and painful as his life had been up to this point, there had been plenty of good things too. And certainly, plenty of people he wanted to protect.

What was that saying from that one comic book he had read? With great power comes great responsibility. He really ought to reread some of the comics and maybe find some new ones too. And play some video games while he was at it. While they were sure to be entertaining, they could also be quite informative and provide him with some useful ideas for how to deal with certain scenarios or powerful beings.

Another loud grumble came from Death's stomach, interrupting his thoughts momentarily.

Harry reached into one of his travel pouches and pulled out a few sticks of dried, salted meat. "Here. Have some jerky. Should be enough to tide you over until we find a proper meal," he said as he tossed them over to her.

"Thank you, master," she said uncertainly as she stared and sniffed at the packaged meat sticks.

"I'm just… going to rest for a while," he said with a massive yawn, lazily casting a Notice-Me-Not charm along with a small protective ward using the Elder Wand that quickly disappeared back into the sleeve of his robe. "We can look for a nearby village when I wake up. Should be one here somewhere."

Closing his eyes, his body feeling achy and his mind fatigued, Harry quickly drifted off to the sound of chirping birds and the gentle breeze of cool mountain air.

-=H=-

Harry awoke to the sound of crackling wood and the comforting weight and warmth of a blanket. Odd, considering he clearly remembered falling asleep on the ground and out in the open. Yet, as he opened his eyes, he stared up into what was clearly a stone ceiling.

Blinking and pinching himself, he determined that it was not, in fact, a dream.

Sitting up, he took stock of the interior of the small stone room. The walls were roughly hewn slabs of stone, and the ceiling was the same. It looked almost as if someone had simply taken five large slabs of stone from a quarry and threw them on top of each other to make a crude structure. Except the stones somehow fit perfectly together despite their obvious roughness and there appeared to be no gaps along the edges between them.

Off to one side of the makeshift structure, a small fireplace had been crudely carved into the stone wall, complete with a chimney. A small stack of wood made mostly of thin branches and twigs were placed off to the side. The lone doorway that led out of the room was cut perfectly rectangular out of the stone and covered with what looked like a cloth blanket similar to the one that had been covering Harry as he slept. Judging from the light leaking out around the sides of the draped blanket, it appeared to be around sunset.

A pillow and bedroll had indeed been placed underneath him as he had slept. All of these were things he had given to Death and were part of the loot that he had taken from the deceased Death Eaters—he thought it rather amusing that Death herself was using items from so-called Death Eaters.

Other than those few items, the room was entirely devoid of anything else. Clearly, this was all Death's doing. But how exactly she did it, Harry was curious to know. He wondered if transfiguration was involved, since that was how he would have done the same thing.

Right on cue, the woman in question pushed through the covered doorway. In one hand she was holding what looked to be a big rabbit by the ears. Judging from how limp its body was, the rabbit was either dead or unconscious.

"Greetings, master. Did you rest well?" she asked, noticing he was awake and bowing to him from the waist. Once again, she sounded as if nothing was amiss despite the fact that a great many things had clearly happened since he had fallen asleep.

Harry stretched and nodded. "I did, actually." He gestured at the stone shelter she had erected around him. "Clearly you've been busy while I was knocked out."

She knelt by the fire as a small cooking pot appeared—yet another item he had given her earlier before they left—along with a knife, a cutting board, and other tools to help with cooking.

"It seems you needed the rest, master. While you were sleeping, I thought it would be best to be of service to you and use my time productively," she explained.

"Thank you," he said. "You didn't need to do all of this, by the way. You know we have camping tents available, which is probably much easier to set up than this."

"Please, master. There is no need to thank me. I am here to serve. If there is a way for me to ease your burdens and bring you comfort, I will do it to the best of my ability. Did I displease you?" she actually sounded worried.

He held up a hand to placate her. "Ah, no, no. That's fine. You did great!"

He decided not to argue with her. Long exposure to house elves and their dedication to their servitude had convinced him that it was usually pointless, and she was definitely giving off similar vibes right then.

"I just think it might have been a little much to make all of this when you could've just pulled one of the camping tents out of storage instead," he said.

"This took me only a few seconds, master," she replied with a shrug.

Harry's eyebrows shot up at that. "How did you create this shelter anyway?" he asked as he watched her spring into action by the fire.

She was a surprisingly skilled hunter and cook, judging from what he could see. In no time at all, the rabbit was properly skinned, gutted, and was soon placed into the cooking pot along with what looked like some herbs, spices, and some raw vegetables. Then she added water, which she seemed to magically conjure out of thin air.

"With earth magic, master," she answered simply.

Harry quirked a brow. "Earth magic? Not transfiguration or some other spells?"

She spared a glance his way as the pot levitated over the fire, with a steel ladle stirring the contents.

"There are many ways to accomplish the same task, master," she explained as an appetite-inducing aroma slowly filled the air. "While you could produce a similar feat as this with several spells, some of which involve transfiguration as you mentioned, I find it easier to reduce the number of steps and work with raw elemental magic directly. Particularly because this was only a crude temporary shelter that required little effort, as I don't imagine us staying here longer than necessary."

Harry blinked. He had heard of large-scale elemental magic before. While a regular witch or wizard could manipulate the natural elements around them to some degree, such as controlling fire on a stovetop or water in a sink, those were small-scale feats. To have true control and mastery over the elements was highly uncommon. Rarer still for someone to actually be able to master it—Dumbledore had some decent elemental ability, as did Tom Riddle.

Generally, a witch or wizard used specific spells to achieve a result that often manipulated some of the natural elements using magic, rather than working with the raw element directly. It was basically like muggles building and using an airplane to fly versus growing a pair of wings and flying on their own power. Both methods allowed them to fly, but in vastly different ways.

A spell like 'Ventus' for instance, which was used to generate a strong jet of wind in the direction the caster pointed their wand, was a perfect example of this. Every time it was cast, the spell produced a standard amount of wind for a set length of time. There was no finer control over the wind created, nor any way to change the direction once it was cast. There was also no way to generate it continuously without casting it repeatedly, or to adjust the amount of wind generated.

On the other hand, a wizard skilled in elemental magic, particularly one with the affinity for wind, would be able to fully control that jet of wind in its entirety. They could adjust the strength, speed, and direction of the wind at will while also producing the wind continuously with minor effort. They could also compress the jet of wind all the way down to the size of a needle and enlarge it all the way up to a massive wind wall that could cover a whole city block, or even bigger depending on how powerful the caster really was.

At least, that was how it worked as far as Harry understood the subject. He had read about it once or twice in some of the books Hermione had recommended for him to study years ago. However, since he could not perform elemental magic himself, it was difficult to say for sure, but the theory at least made a lot of sense to him.

Thinking of Hermione made him wonder how she was doing. How all his friends were doing. Harry had left without warning to go on this quest soon after the final battle, not wanting to waste any time to chase down the fleeing Death Eaters lest their trails run cold. He had sent her a hastily scribbled note along with a request to take care of Hedwig while he was gone.

The snowy owl had been rather indignant that he forbade her from following him after delivering the letter, but he had been adamant about it. Hopefully the old girl would forgive him once he had returned, safe and sound.

"I should have known you could do elemental magic," he said, shaking himself away from nostalgic thoughts. "Can you manipulate other elements then?"

"I can manipulate all elements, master. But some more easily than others," she answered without a hint of pride or boastfulness, simply stating a fact.

"Can you teach me?" he asked hopefully.

"Of course, master," she said with a smile. "You need only tell me when you wish to get started."

Harry couldn't help but grin. He supposed he could take a vacation and do some training on the side at the same time.

"Then I'd like to start as soon as possible," he told her. If he could master even one of the elements, that would already be a big boost to his power.

Death inclined her head. "As you command, master. Though first, we must make sure your fundamentals of magic are strengthened and your method of practicing is solid. We can go over all of that after we eat."

Two ceramic bowls flew out of one of the pouches that hung from her hip and hovered in mid-air in front of her. Soon, they were filled with the contents of the cooking pot, which withdrew from the fireplace and returned to the ground, steam rising from within.

"Rabbit stew?" she offered as one of the bowls levitated towards Harry. An expensive-looking metal spoon followed, which he plucked from the air along with the bowl. It had come from one of the wealthier Death Eaters, no doubt.

"Thanks," he said, taking a moment to enjoy the mouth-watering smell of the meal. He could get used to having such a capable servant.

When he dug in, he was treated to a delicious mouthful of soup. The rabbit meat was perfectly chewy, and the seasonings gave it great flavor. The vegetables rounded it out well enough. All-in-all, he was thoroughly impressed.

Looking up from his bowl, he was about to complement his new companion when he was shocked speechless upon witnessing how ravenously she devoured her own bowl. Not a single drop was wasted. Despite how quickly she wolfed down her food, she somehow managed to do so without making a mess either. Within minutes, she was finished and already having seconds. Noticing him staring at her, she smiled innocently and turned towards him.

"Would you like a second serving, master?"

AN: This story will have a lot of inspirations from anime, both Japanese and Chinese (donghua). Particularly the latter. I also want to acknowledge having been heavily inspired by one of my favorite HP/Star Wars/Mass Effect stores titled To Break Thy Chains and Cycles written by WiseSilver (it's in my faves).

Harry is 20 years old, and will remain looking that way forever (assuming no deliberate changes by Harry) thanks to what was discussed in this chapter (2 years post Hogwarts battle would have him around 20yo).

More to come. It's a bit slow perhaps, but the next chapter will have some action and things will get progressively faster and more exciting as we move along. I think that in any situation where things drastically change, a person would want as much information as possible to make informed decisions moving forward. Hence there's a lot of explanations and info dumping for now. But I'm hoping to speed things along soon.

Also, don't worry. Death will eventually have more of a personality as the story progresses and she gains more experience with life. Heh. To be clear, this will likely end up in a harem/multiple wives scenario with the characters tagged in the story description. So, if you don't like that type of thing you shouldn't read this story.

ps- I don't envision there being a lot of AN's in future chapters. Only when necessary. Take care, and I hope you enjoy the story! Let me know what you think in the reviews.