The fist stopped.
"You're too slow."
The storm dissipated.
The opponent showed no killing intent, and Harry hadn't gone for the kill anyway—besides, he had plenty of questions for this half-giant.
With a breath, he channeled his qi to restrict the other's ability to exert force.
In Harry's silver attributes, his 2 points in magicka, when used directly, only provided things like partial immunity to magical damage through anti-magic resistance, or basic techniques like magicka release and strength enhancement. In contrast, his qi was at a whopping 4 points, honed through years on the battlefield, giving rise to numerous derived techniques.
This technique for sealing off force exertion was something Harry had gradually mastered after reaching 3 points in qi.
Everyone's qi circulation had its own rules, and Harry had enough enemy samples to observe where qi resided. With plenty of trial and error, he'd taught himself many techniques without a master.
Just like his battlefield proficiency in all cold weapons—pure skills forged through sheer combat.
Most of Harry's skills were the kind that directly killed or maimed. It was only after becoming invincible that he started exploring other applications.
If this world had many people with magicka or qi, and their systems were well-developed, he could learn from their researched techniques.
Harry was quite interested in Hagrid's flying motorcycle. If he could use magicka to create such a vehicle, he'd gain aerial combat capabilities.
"Who are you? Why were you chasing us?"
Harry asked. After the fight, he actually felt like something was off, as if he'd guessed wrong. The guy's face looked fierce, but his fighting spirit was too low—not like a professional assassin... or even someone who killed often. More like an ordinary hunter.
The giant finally snapped out of Harry's intimidating presence, lowering his head and staring at Harry in a daze. He noticed the scar on his forehead but didn't answer the question right away.
"You're Harry!"
The giant said, growing certain.
"You know me?"
Harry felt like something was wrong. This guy wasn't a pursuer?
Could it be that his hostility was...
Looking up at the giant's fierce, rugged, indistinct face, with those beetle-like eyes squinting—in this environment, he actually managed a hint of a smile.
"The last time I saw you, you were just a wee baby."
The giant said, "You look a lot like your dad, but you've got your mum's eyes."
"??!"
Not a pursuer from the Church—this guy was an acquaintance of his parents... His hostility was probably just because of the Dursleys... maybe because Uncle Vernon and the rest treated him poorly.
Harry finally understood what had felt off.
"You're a friend of my parents? You're here to find me?"
"YES."
Oh no, he'd made a huge mistake. Good thing he hadn't gone too hard, but those two solid punches must have hurt like hell.
With the misunderstanding cleared, Harry awkwardly tried using his qi to heal the giant's external injuries. The effect was mediocre.
In their conversation, Harry learned that the giant's name was Rubeus Hagrid, the Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts.
Hogwarts was a school of magic, and the letters from before had been sent by them. His parents had graduated from there too.
In Hagrid's words, this magic school was the best in Britain, all of Europe, and even the whole world, founded around AD 990.
The founders were the four greatest witches and wizards of the time: Godric Gryffindor, Salazar Slytherin, Rowena Ravenclaw, and Helga Hufflepuff.
The school's four houses were named after their surnames.
They built the school away from the prying eyes of Muggles, because in those days, Muggles feared magic, and many witches and wizards were persecuted.
Back then, wizards didn't have a complete education system; wizard children learned magic at home under their parents' guidance.
The four wizards decided to open a magic school to train their own students, and also to protect wizard children from Muggle persecution.
Even today, many rules still apply. When Harry was born, his name was recorded in the school's Book of Admittance.
This year, he'd reached school age, so an owl messenger had been sent ahead with the letter.
For little wizards from Muggle families, after the school sent the letter, they'd dispatch a staff member—in Harry's case, that was Hagrid—to guide them.
So, the Dursleys taking him far away wasn't to evade pursuers; it was simply because they didn't want any contact with the wizarding world.
Vernon seemed to deeply discriminate against wizards, viewing them as devilish existences from ancient times, and he didn't want his relative to become a wizard, which is why he'd fled so desperately.
"So, no demon hunters sent by the Pope? Wizards aren't hunted by the Inquisition?"
"Huh?" Hagrid looked a bit confused.
What was he talking about?
What on earth had Harry gone through as a child to think he was being hunted?
And he'd been wondering all along—why were his punches so heavy? Two hits had sent him flying, and a third might have killed him.
The kid was only just turning eleven, right?
Could he actually be a transfigured pure-blood giant?
"This... I don't know what you're talking about. Maybe it's those Muggle things, what are they called, telly-vision? Those things influenced you."
Hagrid thought for a moment and explained more clearly:
"The conflicts between the Church and us wizards are from hundreds of years ago. There are no demon hunters chasing us, and we don't seek revenge on the Church either. Those things are in the past.
Just like in the modern wizarding world, you won't have a blond Anglo-Saxon wizard suddenly dueling a red-haired Celtic wizard or a black-haired Roman-descended wizard."
"We still hide our tracks, but not to evade pursuit—just to protect the Muggles."
Harry was skeptical about that. Originally, this rule was clearly wizards hiding to protect themselves, but now the situation might have changed—perhaps due to some new spells invented? An increase in wizard numbers while Muggles' grasp on mystical forces waned? Harry had too little information to be sure.
"Hogwarts is the safest place in the world. Students generally aren't killed..."
Thinking of Moaning Myrtle, Hagrid added: "...there aren't that many students who get killed."
Harry caught Hagrid's meaning—this giant had seen students killed during his time at school.
He instantly imagined Hogwarts as a conspiracy-filled noble castle, with hidden dangers lurking beneath a surface of harmony.
Plus, this world might or might not have gods, but the average individual combat power was probably higher than in the other world.
For example, Hagrid seemed unremarkable, just a minor giant—easy for Harry to fight—but in reality, the man's strength was at a little monster level, a peerless warrior on the battlefield, and he had the noble attribute of magicka...
He probably knew a lot of magic, because from the conversation, his main role was as a "wizard" or what could be called a "druid," not a "warrior."
Someone like him would have few opponents in the other world, but at Hogwarts, he was just an ordinary staff member, not even a professor, and his words were filled with boundless reverence for the headmaster, Dumbledore.
Dumbledore was probably this world's renowned hero. In his current state, could Harry beat him in a surprise close-quarters attack?
Ordinary steel and iron couldn't hurt him, but magical steel and iron might be different.
And wizards' apparition—could he restrict it with divine power? How far could skilled wizards take their attacks and evasions... it was all unknown.
Harry picked out fragments of information from Hagrid's various descriptions and analyzed them with his powerful intellect.
It would be great if he had an external brain—at least he should find some strategists, serving maids as advisors, loyal knights.
Then he could free up his intelligence for just researching fun combat stuff.
Harry unconsciously glanced at Hagrid...
This guy seemed a bit dim-witted.
Though his strength was impressive and fit Harry's aesthetic, recruiting him as a strategist might not be suitable. Better to find someone who knew more information.
Perhaps he should rebuild the legion.
There was a convoluted note on this king-building system that had come from who-knows-where, roughly translated into English as "The great affairs of state lie in sacrifice and war."
The system could enhance his abilities in many ways, but its strongest function was the legion.
Under his leadership, even mortal armies could gain massive buffs.
The legion tab on his panel looked so empty—it was unsettling. Before, it had been an endless list of names at a glance; now it was grayed out. He wondered if there was a way to summon them from the distant other world...
To do that, it seemed related to divine power, charisma, intelligence, wonders, and sacrifices. None were unlocked yet—perhaps after breaking through 5 points in some [God] attribute, there'd be more changes.
————
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.)