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Infinity: Rise of an Empire

Chapter Five

The monstrous roar seemed to echo across the valley and Harry stared in the direction it came from. In the distance trees shook, flocks of birds noisily took flight in a cacophony of alarmed squawks and angry trills at having been woken up so late at night, and the ground trembled ever so slightly in a steady rhythm, heralding the violent passage of some lumbering beast across the forest floor.

Whatever was coming, it was undoubtedly much bigger than Harry. Yet it was neither fear nor nervousness that he felt most strongly. Instead, Harry's extremities tingled with anticipation, his heart thudding louder in his chest.

Within him, his magic hummed, his core densely packed with all the mana that he had been absorbing for the past few hours. It strained against the confines of his core, yearning to break free. His entire being seemed excited for the chance to let loose.

He felt… powerful. Yes, that seemed to be the right word to describe how he was feeling. He felt more powerful than he ever had before, and it was thrilling. It made him laugh to think that he had been so happy and content before with merely swishing a wand about and speaking incantations without truly feeling magic in the way that he could now. It was as if he had been seeing life in black, white, and shades of gray all these years, and then was suddenly introduced to the concept of color.

He shut his eyes, concentrating on the feeling of his magic, and smiled. This was how it was supposed to be like. This was how a wizard was truly supposed to feel! He had felt like this only a handful of times before—the earliest moment had been when he first chose a wand at Ollivander's—but now instead of feeling it only a moment, it was like a constant companion, there whenever he wished to feel it.

Harry's mind raced with the possibilities. If this was how he felt now, at the very start of his journey, what would he feel when he reached greater heights? What would he be able to accomplish with his magic then?

Harry sensed Morrigan staring at him, and he turned his head to look back at her. She stood a few paces away to his right, hands clasped in front of her waist, and when their eyes met, a small but no less lovely smile graced her beautiful pale face once more.

"You are pleased, master?" she asked him.

"I think my mood will largely depend on how this battle goes," Harry said honestly as he rolled his shoulders. "And just so you know, I would prefer to keep surprises like this to a minimum in the future. At the very least, please ask me first before attempting to do something like this again."

Morrigan looked apologetic. "Yes, master. I apologize if my actions caused any inconvenience for you. I only wished to fulfill your desire to train and quickly grow stronger."

"I can appreciate your intent well enough," he told her, "But I'd much prefer to be in control of my schedule for training sessions, especially when those training sessions involve violence and the risk of injury."

"Understood, master." Morrigan bowed her head. "Though I would like to remind you that no matter what happens in this battle, you will not die. At worst, you'll only be seriously injured. And any injuries can be healed. Even fatal ones."

"We're going to have to work on your words of encouragement, I think," Harry said with a wry grin.

"I was careful to choose a creature that you could handle, master," she told him earnestly. "But if you wish for words of encouragement, then I will of course oblige. I have every confidence that you will win without much trouble, master."

"Thanks." He chuckled at her antics, then a thought struck him. "Hold on, how can you tell I can defeat this creature without much trouble?"

"By comparing your aura to that of the creature's, master. Your power levels appear to be comparable, which means it will at least be a challenge for you. But despite that, your chances of victory are high. It is not so intelligent a beast after all, and you have your spells."

Harry nodded slowly, absorbing the information. "Seeing auras seems like a useful skill. How can I do that too?"

Morrigan shook her head apologetically. "I am sorry, master, but you cannot see auras at your current level of strength. You are still in the Mid-level of the Foundation Stage. Once you reach the Spirit Stage, then you will be able to see the various auras that permeate the world. Eventually, in the realms above Spirit Stage, you will even be able to sense and gauge auras without needing to see them. You will also be able to manipulate auras to a certain extent too, such as disguising or hiding them from others."

That last part was intriguing, and the wheels in Harry's mind were already turning with the practical uses for that ability. Morrigan also made it sound like there were other potential skills that could be used on auras beyond the ones she mentioned, and he was curious what those were. But then he shook his head and put those thoughts aside.

Patience, Harry, he thought to himself. You haven't even been cultivating for more than a day and already you're thinking of powers and possibilities that are yet a long way off.

Returning his focus to the present, Harry looked towards the oncoming creature once more. It was much closer now. The shaking of the earth was stronger, and the sound of it barreling through the forest was growing louder. He estimated it was at most only thirty seconds away from breaking through the tree line.

"If it pleases you, master, I shall observe the battle closely and can provide an assessment afterwards for your review."

Harry gave Morrigan a nod and she suddenly disappeared, leaving him alone atop the cliff. He wasn't sure if she teleported away or had turned herself invisible, but he could faintly feel her watching him. Hopefully, he would give a good account of himself in the fight to come.

His arms were at his sides, left hand tightened into a fist while his right held the Elder Wand firmly. His outfit—robes, trousers, and an undershirt—was almost entirely black with silver accents. His clothes were made of the finest Acromantula silk, which was highly resistant to damage and dirt, and flexible and breathable enough to give him both maximum comfort and utility.

Around him rested his father's Invisibility Cloak, the ends of it fluttering in the wind—as far as he knew, the cloak was actually indestructible, and it had saved his life on more than one occasion by taking the brunt of some attacks that should have been fatal. Besides that, he didn't know if the cloak had any special properties beyond the ability to make him and whoever was beneath the cloak turn perfectly invisible, a power he had since learned to control.

When the cloak was inactive, it looked like a plain black cloak made of exquisite material that seemed similar enough to silk, but closer inspection would prove it to be a material unknown to even the most learned of weavers.

On his feet, the Shadowhunter Boots boosted his agility and jumping strength to superhuman levels while also silencing his every footstep. No matter how high he fell or how hard his feet hit the ground, they made no sound.

Harry glanced around. Their makeshift little camp was atop a rock outcropping that jutted out from a collection of cliffs and hills at the foot of a snow-capped mountain. No trees grew in his immediate area due to the lack of soil since most of the ground around him was solid rock.

From where he stood, Harry was high enough to be level with the tops of the trees that grew along the valley floor below, which meant he had the high ground on whatever creature was about to emerge from the forest. He was not going to squander that advantage.

One thing he had learned over the years was to utilize his surroundings to his advantage as much as possible. This was especially useful when fighting against more powerful opponents since it was more often than not a mistake to fight such opponents head-on. While Morrigan had said the beast's power was similar to his, it was better to err on the side of caution and act as if it was stronger than him.

It was a dark nearly moonless night with barely enough light to see anything more than dark shapes. But Harry was used to operating in the darkness, and his spells would light up the night soon enough. With a rough plan in mind, he readied himself for action and waited.

Long seconds ticked by, punctuated only by the rumbling of the approaching foe, until finally it appeared.

The creature burst through the edge of the forest, smashing through low-lying branches and ripping up several bushes in the process as it emerged onto the open space between the tree line and the cliff atop which Harry was standing.

It was a giant beast that stood on four thick legs and was taller than Harry by at least twice his height, putting the beast at a minimum of ten feet tall while on all fours. Its length was slightly longer than its height, perhaps fifteen feet long by Harry's estimation.

Glowing yellow eyes with slit pupils searched for prey as its head moved from side-to-side. Harry couldn't make out too many details because of how dark it was, but he imagined it looked like a massive bear.

Wasting little time, he immediately unleashed a barrage of spells, and the darkness of night was abruptly broken by the flaring lights of his magic.

The rush of powerful energy that coursed through him with each spell was exhilarating, and the Elder Wand seemed to almost shiver with delight in his hand as if enjoying the sensation as much as he, although he might have been imagining that part.

The first spell Harry fired off was a stunner, the red bolt of magic shooting through the air at incredible speed. He was caught by surprise at how much power seemed to flow into the spell, causing him to hesitate for a second before continuing with the rest of his attacks. That hesitation proved costly as it gave the beast enough time to leap aside and avoid the brunt of his attacks after the stunner hit it squarely on its side, causing it to stumble and growl in pain and surprise.

As Harry had expected, even an overpowered stunner was not enough to take down such a large beast. Most magical creatures had some sort of magical resistance, and generally speaking the larger the creature the greater their resistance to magical attacks.

The big bear-like creature moved faster than Harry would have thought possible given its great bulk, its head swiveling up and eyes locking onto him even as the rest of Harry's spells impacted the ground where it had been standing only moments before.

The second spell, closely following the first, was a Bombarda that exploded with an earthshaking boom next to the beast, knocking it aside and creating a giant cloud of dirt as more birds took flight nearby, sending their protests loudly through the air. At this rate, the entire forest was going to be awakened, so he resolved not to use any more of his louder and larger spells.

Harry was astonished at how powerful the explosive spell had been—he had been using the Bombarda spell quite liberally in his globe-spanning chase of the escaped Death Eaters, and it had never been this strong before.

That wasn't the only spell that was now stronger either. All of his spells seemed more powered up compared to before. The magic for each one rushed forth from his burgeoning core in a torrent, the spells forming quickly and easily. They even seemed to shoot forward faster than Harry could recall, but maybe he was only imagining that part.

The next several spells were all cutting curses that flew through the air like long, thin semi-transparent blades of magic energy. They sliced through the cloud of dirt in several places, but none found their mark, leaving long gouges on the earth instead.

The last spell he cast in the first volley was a confounding charm, thinking that by confusing the beast it would make it easier to take it down. But that, as the cutting curses that came before it, also missed its intended target. One of the drawbacks of long-range attacks was that it gave time for the enemy to react to and avoid the attacks, and none of his spells were homing ones.

Harry was unconcerned about the misses, however. He had been in enough battles to know that not every spell was going to hit its mark, and that wasn't necessarily a bad thing. Bending his knees, he leaped far to his left, changing his position and thus his angle of attack. He launched another volley of spells towards the direction the beast had been thrown due to his explosive spell.

More roars of pain and anger sounded as some of his spells managed to land, and the ground shook again as leaves and small branches fell from the nearby trees.

Harry had not yet mastered silent casting for more than a handful of spells, though it might have seemed like it. He was simply casting the spells with such quiet whispers that they were near-silent, especially given the ambient noise usually found in most places.

For a moment Harry contemplated jumping down there to confront the beast up close and finish it off in a more exciting manner, but then thought better of it. With his spells, he had the greatest advantage at long range, and despite Morrigan's assurances, he didn't want to test his supposed immortality unnecessarily.

Although it would admittedly be quite an epic tale if he did end up fighting a beast like this in close combat. He might have been more inclined to pursue such a strategy if he had some other magical weapon besides a wand—like a magic sword or something like that. Maybe it was time for him to start searching for one. And better magical armor too while he was at it.

As if somehow reading his thoughts, the bear-like beast roared in angry defiance, and a wave of magical energy exploded outward from its body, clearing away the dust cloud. Its yellow eyes turned red, and wreathed around its body was a faint crimson haze.

The beast lurched forward with impressive speed, far more than it should have been capable of. Harry fired off spells as it quickly crossed the open ground, but most of his attacks missed. The ones that did manage to hit seemed to be absorbed by the crimson haze of energy around its body and did nothing to slow the beast down.

Harry frowned, the beast had reached the bottom of the cliff and, clawing into the rocks, it leaped back and forth as it climbed, evading many of his spells despite its size. He was not used to fighting against an opponent who moved as much as this one did, or one that could seemingly cast magic of its own.

With growing frustration, Harry had just about decided it was time to take off the gloves and unleash his most destructive spells regardless of how much attention it might bring when, much to his surprise, the beast suddenly leaped upwards with remarkable strength and speed, heading straight for him.

Reacting quickly, Harry leaped up and backwards even as he cast an Impedimenta spell and followed that up with a Protego. The cliff edge that he had been perched upon only moments before abruptly exploded into a shower of rocky debris as the beast appeared, teeth bared into a snarl and one large paw outstretched with sharp claws that seemed like swords. It was even larger and more intimidating up close.

The slowing spell Harry had cast made the shower of rocks and the still-rising beast move in slow-motion, giving him enough time to land a good forty feet away thanks to his enchanted boots. The effect of his spell only lasted a few seconds, and already, the hurtling rocks and the rising beast were gradually starting to return to normal speed.

Harry took the opportunity to launch several of his most damaging spells at the beast while it was still slowed, his magic surging. Spells to slash, maim, puncture, obliterate, eviscerate, and more smashed into the crimson shield that seemed to surround the beast until it finally shattered and a few of the spells made it through.

The beast roared in agony, eyes still blazing red with fury as more of its blood was spilled and new wounds were opened as it finally landed on the ground in a hailstorm of stones. Harry strafed left, his steps light and quick as he continued his assault, wearing down the beast's defenses. It was actually impressive how durable the damned beast was.

The bear-like creature growled and tensed, muscles rippling beneath its steadily blood-soaked thick fur, and then launched itself towards him with one last burst of speed. Harry tried to dodge but could not completely evade as the beast managed to clip him on his arm with one of its claws, sending him flying in a surge of hot pain. He tumbled across the ground heavily, though he managed to keep a hold of his wand as he came to a rest some distance away from where he had been standing.

Grimacing, Harry gritted his teeth and tried to push himself up onto his hands and knees. His body was a little battered from the rough tumble, but he had been through worse before. His left arm dangled almost uselessly, wet with blood, and burned with pain from the bloody gashes the beast's claws had rent in his flesh.

The left sleeve of his robes was torn, the acromantula silk protecting him as best as it could before tearing beneath the strength of the beast's claws. He knew the damage to his arm would have been much worse without it.

The beast roared in triumph nearby, perhaps seeing him injured on the ground, and Harry reacted almost on instinct when he noticed movement from the corner of his eye. His wand flashed in that direction as a powerful semi-circle shield erupted out of nowhere, bathing the area in its bluish-white glow.

A sound like metal being smashed into by something heavy came from the direction he had almost blindly thrown up his shield, followed by a whine of pain and the heavy thudding of something hitting the ground. The beast had tried to barrel towards him and broke itself against his shield instead. The shield itself was cracked but held firm as the amount of power he had pushed into it was more than he had ever done before, making it far stronger than normal.

Getting back up to one knee, Harry turned in time to see the beast lying on its side beyond his shield. Its eyes had returned to their normal yellow color, whatever magic it had used to bolster itself having run its course. The light from Harry's shield illuminated the beast enough for him to see it clearly.

Its head was a cross between a wolf and a bear, and its thick fur was the color of rust red, though now it was half stained with crimson as it bled freely from multiple wounds. Its underside, now partially exposed to him, had much less fur and was largely unscathed from their brief battle. One of its forelegs was mangled badly from having been hit by one too many of Harry's spells. A long thick tail with a white tip extended from the creature's rear, looking like it belonged more to a cat-like creature rather than this wolf-bear hybrid.

Suffice it to say, Harry had never encountered such a creature before, in books nor in real life. It occurred to him that Hagrid would be quite intrigued by such a creature were he here to see it, and he wondered if the Hogwarts Gamekeeper knew what type of beast it was.

Taking a deep breath, Harry got to his feet, swaying a little, but managed to keep his balance as he walked over. His shield dissipated with a thought as he cut the mana flowing to it and then he cast a light spell that formed a floating orb above him, casting bright light in a sphere that faded out to an area almost fifty feet wide. More than enough for him to see with.

The beast growled and tried to get up, sensing Harry's approach, but then it whimpered and shuddered. The damage to its body was extensive—Harry had had no mercy towards the end with his spell choices, many of them considered dark by the standards of Wizarding Britain. Not that he cared much what they thought about spell classifications.

The beast stared at him with one of its yellow eyes, fear and anger there both, and it bared its fangs at him one last time in a show of defiance even in its final moments. With ragged breaths, and the pitiful state that it was in, there was little intimidation in the display, but Harry could respect its efforts.

He nodded to it, unsure if the beast would even understand such a gesture. The battle had been more challenging than he thought, as Morrigan had said it would be, and were it not for the destructive power of some of his spells or the extra power he had from cultivation, he might not have survived the encounter.

He frowned. There was much to learn from this battle, and many more things to correct and improve upon if he was to become stronger.

With a wave of his wand, he slashed the beast's throat with a spell, fresh blood spilling forth. It choked and convulsed, and then the light in its eyes died shortly after that, with Harry brooding quietly as the beast breathed its last.

-=H=-

At some point, Morrigan appeared at his side from wherever she had disappeared to during his fight with the beast, his mind barely registering her arrival, lost as he was in thought. She said nothing to him, waiting for Harry to speak first. When he did, there was some bitterness in his voice.

"You know, I fancied myself a seasoned fighter by now. A competent wizard. After all the trials I've been through. These last two years in particular, traveling the world and chasing after dark wizards. Yet I still made some foolish mistakes." He sighed, shaking his head.

The pain in his left arm had subsided, and the worst of the bleeding had largely stopped, though his arm still hung limply at his side. The rest of his body was fine, though bruised and scraped up from his rough tumble across the rocky ground.

"You won, master," Morrigan stated flatly, as if that was all that mattered. And perhaps she had a point there, but Harry was still disappointed in his performance.

Harry scoffed. "Barely." He gestured towards the remains of the beast. "I could have handled this a lot better. Hermione would probably be scolding me right now if she were here. If I hadn't reacted fast enough, if I had made just one more mistake, I would be dead or dying right now instead of that thing. I won in part due to luck. Again."

Harry's hands tightened into fists. Far too many times he had escaped death or serious injury by the skin of his teeth purely thanks to luck. Sure, he was glad to still be alive, but it made it no less infuriating to know that he hadn't won through his own effort, skill, or prowess, but by the grace of either fate or random chance.

It made him feel like he had little to no control over his life, and he despised that feeling. That lack of control. He needed to get stronger, more powerful. He needed to become better than he was, so that he would never have to feel this way again. And he thought he had already reached that point, having done quite well for himself over the past two years alone out in the wider world.

But it seemed there was still more he had to learn. All the optimism and enthusiasm he had started the battle with had been burned off completely by his anger at his own incompetence and foolishness. He had come close to disaster during that fight, and he only had himself to blame.

"If I may ask, master… when was the last time you fought a magical beast?"

Harry blinked. He could not answer immediately because he didn't know. When had been the last time he fought against anyone other than wizards and witches? Almost all of his opponents in the past few years had been Death Eaters, all of whom fought in a particular way and thus mostly had the same weaknesses. He had gotten too used to fighting them.

"It's been a long time," he finally told her, memories surfacing as he struggled to recall them. "I think it's been about five or six years since I've faced anything close to that size." He gestured once more towards the carcass of the giant wolf-bear. "And to be honest, back then I wasn't even trying to fight that dragon. I was only trying to steal something from it… while making sure I didn't lose my life in the process."

He was referring, of course, to the Hungarian Horntail he had faced during the Triwizard Tournament. That felt like a lifetime ago now that he thought back to it. So much had happened since then. So much had changed.

"When was the last time you slew a magical creature similar to this beast in actual combat?" Morrigan asked more specifically.

Again, Harry had to think about it, and the answer left him feeling a little better about himself. "I fought and killed a basilisk when I was 12. That was eight years ago… and quite honestly, that was mostly due to luck as well. I was running around trying not to get killed more than actually fighting it."

He remembered Fawkes coming to his rescue—were it not for the magical bird's timely intervention, he and his friends would likely be dead—and the Sorting Hat had helped him too, giving him Gryffindor's Sword. Harry had never used a sword before then, and it had been sheer luck that allowed him to slay the basilisk with it.

"But you did slay it?"

"I did."

"So, in the last eight years, you've battled two magical beasts of this size or greater, killing one and surviving the encounter with the other," Morrigan said.

Harry glanced at her. "That's right."

"Then take heart, master. You fought and slew an unknown opponent, of a kind you don't have much experience against," Morrigan said. She leaned closer to inspect him, though he paid her no heed as his eyes still lingered on the dead wolf-bear. "You also only expended less than half of your mana reserves, much of which I believe was spent in that last sequence, while fighting against an enemy of similar strength, whose weaknesses, capabilities, and tendencies were unknown to you. By those metrics alone, this was a great victory."

Harry sighed again. "Then why doesn't it feel like one?"

She waved a hand in his direction, and Harry felt a wave of magic wash over him. His vitality was instantly restored as his aches and pains faded away as if they had never been. Glancing down to inspect himself in astonishment, his wounds were indeed completely healed, and even his garments had been repaired and cleaned entirely.

Feeling better, physically at least, Harry stood a little straighter and nodded in thanks to Morrigan.

"Do you wish to hear my assessment of the battle, master?"

Harry prepared himself for the criticisms he was expecting. "Go ahead."

Morrigan proceeded to point out that he made good use of his height advantage and that his spell control and reaction times were splendid, but it was clear he was used to a certain style of fighting—that is, keeping fights short by using direct attacks that were destructive and debilitative while often striking opponents in a surprise attack. Essentially, he tried to overpower and overwhelm his opponents in a rapid flurry of attacks, which she said could be quite effective against human opponents, especially those who were weaker or less skilled than him.

However, in fights that lasted beyond the first few moves, especially against enemies that were of similar power or better, he appeared to show a lack of creativity and a narrow-minded focus on a certain subset of spells. Namely attack spells.

"So, you agree," Harry said with a frown. "I made too many mistakes."

Morrigan shook her head lightly. "I wouldn't say you made too many mistakes, master. If anything, I think given your prior battle experience and your limited repertoire of spells and abilities, you did quite well. But there is certainly room for improvement, as you yourself have stated. For instance, you could have used other schools of magic. Like… what do you call it… Transfiguration? That would have proved helpful here, especially when the beast was climbing the cliff. Instead of focusing almost entirely on attack spells, you could have used more spells that limited your opponent's mobility or spells that could distract your opponent."

Harry rubbed the Elder Wand in his hand with his fingers, feeling the smooth surface that reminded him more of stone than wood. She made good points. Some of what she mentioned he was already aware of, but other things she said really opened his eyes to how limited he was in his fighting abilities.

"I could have done better," he repeated what he said earlier.

Morrigan tilted her head and stared at him. "Experience is the mother of wisdom, master. This is what practice and training is all about. To learn and improve."

To his surprise, her hands reached out to grasp his right hand, which still held the Elder Wand. Her delicate skin felt soft and supple against his, and her eyes looked into his with such an earnest expression of support and care that, in that moment, it was difficult to imagine that the arrestingly beautiful woman before him was the personification of Death itself.

"In short," she continued as warmth seemed to emanate from her hands into his. "It is good to feel disappointed because it means you strive to be greater than you are. It means you recognize your mistakes and your shortcomings. But do not wallow overlong in self-pity and sadness, master. Or even anger. Learn from your mistakes and move forward."

Harry was silent for a while. Then he let out a long breath and nodded once as he glanced at her. "Thank you, Morrigan." Her words had admittedly lifted his spirits, and he took them to heart.

She let go of his hand, and Harry felt a bare glimmer of sadness from the loss of her touch.

"Come, master. We should harvest what we can from this creature. There is more to defeating a magical beast than simply the experience you gain by fighting it. Their body parts are often useful for many things, the least of which is to sell for coin."

With a flick of his wrist, his wand returned to its holster along his right forearm. "I… uh… I've never really done anything like that before."

"Then I shall teach you, master." Morrigan's reply was wholly without judgment.

Harry was obviously aware that resources and materials were gathered from the world by humans in order to make food, items, and whatever else they needed to survive and thrive. Whether those resources were from animals, plants, or the environment itself—the earth, the sky, and beyond—everything could be harvested and used in some way or another, if you had the right tools and the proper understanding of how to make use of those resources.

However, he had very little hands-on knowledge on the actual process of harvesting resources beyond what he learned from Herbology and Care of Magical Creatures, along with a few books over the years that broadly touched on the subject.

Morrigan stepped closer to the felled creature, examining it. Then she stretched out her hand, and a dagger materialized in her hands, its blade black as night. She knelt down and proceeded to cut into the beast with surgical precision, the black blade easily slicing through flesh as if it were paper.

"There are two common ways to harvest a creature," she began, entering into her lecturing mode, which Harry had quickly found captivating from the first time she did it. "Either physically, as I am now, or by using magic."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Wouldn't it be faster to use magic then?"

"It would be, yes."

"Then why don't you?"

"Because, master, I wished to show you that you don't need magic to harvest a creature. It is a good skill to learn in the unlikely event that your magic is unusable, or if you wish to hide your presence. Most magic spells can be detected when cast, and they leave behind a magical residue as well that can be analyzed and traced if one were knowledgeable enough in such arts."

"I see." The thought of being unable to use his magic scared him. In what circumstances would that ever happen? Though not using magic to keep a low profile was something he could understand, at least.

Morrigan continued her lecture. "Almost everything from a creature can be used in some way, if you have the patience, skill, and knowledge to utilize it to the fullest. Eyes. Claws. Teeth. Fur. Skin. Organs. Muscles. Bones. Even the tail. But the most important part of a magical creature, especially for magic cultivators, is its magical core."

She was very deliberate and careful in her movements so that the mess was minimized, and nothing spilled or splattered onto her clothing. Her hands and forearms, however, quickly became covered in blood and gore as she cut open the beast and then reached into it, pulling out what seemed to be a glowing orb the size of a tennis ball.

Morrigan quickly cleaned her hands and arms as well as the orb with a quick spell, and then tossed it over to Harry. When he caught it with his left hand, the orb felt warm to the touch, and he could sense a dense amount of mana thrumming from within it.

"This is its core?" he asked as he studied it closely. It looked like a perfectly spherical rock, its surface smooth like marble while the light within glowed a brownish red.

"Yes, it is," she answered. "Most creatures have their magical core close to their heart. But some have it elsewhere in their bodies. And other creatures, such as slimes, can even move their cores around freely. If you want to kill a monster quickly, you can focus on destroying their core, but in doing so you lose such a valuable resource. Most monsters cannot live long with their cores destroyed. Damaging their cores while they're still alive will also seriously injure them, but a damaged core is unstable and may… explode upon harvesting."

"What about humans?" Harry asked, bringing a hand up to touch the middle of his chest.

"Humans and humanoid creatures are different, master," she explained. "Your core doesn't exist in the same way that it does for beasts and monsters. You see, it's not actually in the material plane, but in the spiritual plane instead. Only magic can affect the core of another person. Physical attacks will do nothing."

"Why is that? How can humanoids be different in such a big way?"

At that question, Morrigan smiled mysteriously. "I'm sorry, master. That is a question I cannot answer."

Harry furrowed his brow. "Can't because you don't know? Or can't because you're not allowed to answer?"

"Because I don't know."

Harry pondered the mystery for a short while, but then figured the answer didn't really matter that much. What was he going to do with that information anyway? So, he turned his attention back to monster cores. He let the wolf-bear core rest on the palm of his hand as he held it in front of his chest.

"So, besides selling these… what else can we do with them?"

"One of the most important uses for it is for cultivation practice, master. By absorbing the mana within the core instead of just the environment, it will be easier and faster for you to cultivate. Some cores can even teach you new spells or abilities when you absorb them, but those are exceedingly rare, and often found only in the most powerful of monsters.

The other very important use for a core is for enchanting and creating magic items. It is a complicated art that few can do competently, but one that does provide benefits wholly different from enchantments done through runic engravings. The best part is that runes and cores can co-exist within an item, so for instance, if you found a core for a beast that specialized in speed… you could conceivably enchant it into your current Shadowblood Boots to boost its speed-enhancing abilities, and potentially add a new ability too. There is an element of chance involved, however, so results are not guaranteed."

"I understand," Harry said, grateful for his Occlumency as it allowed him to order his mind and his thoughts to some degree. Morrigan had thrown a lot of information at him today, and he figured it was best to stop here and process all that information for a while before continuing with any more lessons. "I think I'll go rest for a while and cultivate," he told her.

Morrigan lowered her head and gestured towards the partially gutted wolf-bear corpse. "Before we retire for the night, let me teach you the spells for harvesting, master."

-====H====-

AN: It's my birthday month, so here's a treat from me to you: a new chapter! Expect updates for most of my other stories too. FYI: we'll be getting into the start of the China/Asia arc of the story starting next chapter. It's going to be funnnn! Cheers!