The system always had a simplified interface and a detailed interface, and each entry could be clicked into for more in-depth explanations.
For example, besides the most basic things like proficiency and level for each skill, there were also additional annotations explaining the skill's effects.
And these annotations, even on the most detailed interface, wouldn't show up on the primary screen—you had to click to view the details.
Back when Harry couldn't understand Chinese, he didn't bother much with the annotations. Now, he could understand a lot more of the parts.
He'd even come to interpret the previously incomprehensible as something akin to national fortune or the mandate of heaven.
As for the application of Qi, there was a whole slew of knowledge on breathing methods and internal cultivation techniques. Harry had way too much to learn, but luckily, he had cheats.
As long as he practiced repeatedly, more insights would flood his mind, and his body would experience an endless surge of pleasure.
This wisdom, this talent—it was just too extraordinary.
Ordinary people simply couldn't comprehend how joyful it was to always be making progress, always having fresh inspiration.
Each sword strike was a tiny bit stronger than the last, with almost no end in sight.
Even among masters, there were disparities; an ordinary divine sword could take on five at once, but under the same attributes, Harry could handle ten. His potential was boundless, and that was what kept him going.
Also, the legion roster had finally expanded a bit, allowing for grouping now. The other changes weren't too significant—plenty of new buildings looked tempting, but they actually lacked the necessary conditions.
Aside from the hand-to-hand and cold weapons training facilities that Harry was already familiar with, and the buildings that boosted cohesion, only the [Small Magic Training Ground] seemed potentially useful. He could give it a try there over the summer vacation.
That said, Hogwarts seemed to provide training bonuses for Harry himself as well. The drawbacks were that some spell practices made a big racket and required cleanup afterward. If he had a more convenient training ground, that would be even better.
Harry retrieved the Sorting Hat that he'd just tossed aside. It was still stunned that the flames from the Gryffindor sword had nearly singed it, but for the moment, it refrained from complaining to Harry.
Having witnessed that scene, even a magical item like itself opted for caution.
Suddenly, there came a fierce pounding on the door and loud footsteps. Hermione, who had been watching Harry the whole time, lifted her head.
Harry had already known someone was approaching from outside. With all the commotion they'd made here—the troll's racket alone had been substantial, not to mention Harry's soul-shaking war cry that had echoed throughout Hogwarts before his leaping slash—it had practically broadcast their location.
Still, they arrived faster than he'd anticipated—considering how quickly Harry had ended the fight, it seemed like the newcomers had been heading straight for the girls' bathroom from the start.
Even now, after retracting his divine power and letting his aura fade a little, Harry kept his senses dialed to the maximum, enduring the foul stench all the while.
He hadn't forgotten that Quirrell was behind the troll, and Voldemort was behind Quirrell. The troll had been weaker than expected, and Harry still had the vast majority of his strength left.
A moment later, Professor McGonagall burst into the bathroom, with Snape following close behind, and Quirrell bringing up the rear.
Harry tightened his grip on the Gryffindor sword, which he still hadn't sheathed.
Quirrell was an enemy, and his turban was some mysterious magical artifact.
Snape's allegiance was unknown—he might harbor resentment born from love—and he had a strange connection with Quirrell.
Professor McGonagall was a good person, but wizards had the Imperius Curse, and the odds of a fight breaking out were definitely higher than one percent.
Grabbing the Sorting Hat ahead of time had been the right move. With the sword in hand, even if these three—whom he was temporarily treating as head-of-house level—came at him all at once, Harry was confident he could fight and slay them.
That had just been a warm-up. If their strength didn't exceed his expectations, after taking down these three, Harry would still have enough energy left to battle Dumbledore or Voldemort afterward. It'd be a fifty-fifty shot at victory, of course—that was the extreme scenario.
In all likelihood, Dumbledore wouldn't fight him, and Voldemort was probably still lying low. Harry was just accounting for the worst-case possibilities; it was a valuable lesson he'd learned from surviving to the end in the world of A Song of Ice and Fire.
In that world, it was often right when someone got cocky that they'd flag their own doom and drop dead the next moment. Harry had learned that precious lesson: never let your guard down, always maintain the hunger for battle.
The weak version of himself from the past had already been killed by Harry.
The him of now was a god of war.
Having just gone through one duel, complete with a beheading and blood sacrifice, the Lightbringer's sword soul was mildly appeased.
The Gryffindor sword had great potential—it seemed to have been temporarily enhanced. With Lightbringer not in berserk mode, even if it accommodated divine power a second time in short order, this extraordinarily inclusive transcendent blade wouldn't suffer any real damage.
Quirrell only spared a single glance at the decapitated troll before letting out a feeble sob. He sat down on a toilet seat, clutching his chest tightly.
He wondered what kind of monster he'd provoked—why did his master insist on targeting Harry Potter?
For now, it was just the troll that had died, but if he went in personally... could he even survive?
Snape bent down to examine the headless troll, while Professor McGonagall stared at Harry. Ron was trailing behind her.
No wonder they'd gotten here so fast! Harry realized.
He hadn't expected Ron to go reporting to the professors someday—probably his concern for Harry had overridden everything else.
Harry had never seen Professor McGonagall look so furious.
Her lips were ashen white. It seemed she wouldn't be awarding fifty points for Harry's recent decapitation... though Harry didn't care much about points anyway. That trophy apparently didn't add attribute points—not like the Quidditch Cup.
Maybe because the House Cup was entirely at the professors' discretion, the system didn't count it as an honor...
But why did playing a game of ball count, then?
"What on earth are you playing at?" Professor McGonagall said, her voice laced with icy fury.
Harry glanced at Ron and saw him holding his wand aloft, still on alert as if ready to jump in and rescue at any moment. Realizing the situation was off, he quickly lowered his wand and shot Harry an apologetic look.
Harry nodded back at Ron—he'd meant well.
"You're lucky you weren't killed by it. Why didn't you stay put in your dormitory? Relying on a bit of Muggle swordplay tricks to come solo a troll—are you even a wizard?" Snape shot Harry a piercing glare.
He'd confirmed it: no Sectumsempra or similar curse involved—it really had been hacked off with a sword. And the Gryffindor sword was still clutched in Harry's hand, not once loosened.
But how had he jumped high enough to decapitate it? At Harry's height, fighting a troll should have limited him to hacking at its feet.
Those boastful Gryffindor students hadn't been exaggerating this time... Harry's combat ability was abnormal.
So young, and already hauling around a troll's head... that kind of nerve, like he was born a killing machine... That prophecy that had haunted him with guilt all his life was spot on... This kid was truly exceptional... I'm starting to believe Dumbledore's words—he might really be able to defeat the Dark Lord...
But would he become the next Dark Lord? Is the Dark Lord of the same age as scary as him...?
Lily, what should I do...?
Dumbledore said to guide Harry with love... Love is the greatest magic...
————
Supporting me on Pa-treon to gain early access to advanced chapters and enjoy expedited updates. Your support is greatly appreciated.
pat-reon .c-om/Dragonhair
(Just remove the hyphen - and space, to access Pa-treon normally.)