Ch: 17-25
Chapter 17: First Kill in the Greenhouse and the blue Milestone
As soon as the glass door of Greenhouse One was pushed open, a wave of hot, humid, and stifling air rushed over him.
It was a complex scent—a mix of damp soil, the pungent ammonia of dragon dung fertilizer, and the spicy sap of certain plants.
This high concentration of biological scents made Morn's nose itch slightly, but for his [Biological Radar], this place was practically a disco hall with signals jumping everywhere.
"Alright, everyone inside! Don't dawdle!"
Professor Pomona Sprout was standing behind a long wooden trestle, vigorously patting a flowerpot that was trying to escape.
She was a squat witch whose fingernails were always packed with dirt.
"Today we are dealing with a bad-tempered little fellow—the Chinese Chomping Cabbage."
Professor Sprout pointed to the purplish-red cabbages on the table that were shaking frantically.
They weren't quiet like ordinary vegetables; instead, they had large mouths full of sharp teeth, snapping at the air and occasionally spraying puffs of pale yellow acid mist.
"Put on your dragon hide gloves! This is mandatory!" the professor warned loudly. "Their teeth can easily snap a carrot, or your pinky finger. Your task now is to fertilize them. If they don't behave, press down on their 'cabbage hearts'!"
Justin Finch-Fletchley of Hufflepuff scrambled to put on his gloves, only for a cabbage to suddenly leap up and bite his sleeve, making him let out a startled scream.
Standing in the corner of the long table, Morn unhurriedly put on the dragon hide glove on his left hand.
But he didn't put on the right one. He stuffed the heavy leather glove into his pocket, leaving his slender right hand bare, and gazed calmly at the large, deep purple 'Elite' cabbage in front of him.
—[Analysis Lock]—
Target: Chinese Chomping Cabbage (Elite Individual)
Status: Extremely Excited / High Aggression
Manifested Talents:
[Nerve Swiftness (blue)]: Possesses neural reflex speeds exceeding those of ordinary mammals.
[Biological Acid (Green)]: Secretes weakly corrosive digestive fluids.
"blue..."
Morn's pupils contracted slightly.
Since starting school, this was the first time he had seen a blue glow on a 'huntable target' other than a professor.
The Cat Civets and Mute Birds from before had only provided green auxiliary Talents.
"If I can get this, my spellcasting wind-up will be cut in half."
However, the system's warning still echoed in his mind: attempting to force-absorb a blue Talent with a soul strength of 1.02 had only a 45% success rate and a extremely high risk of backlash.
"Then we'll go according to plan: kill the soul first, then eat the meat."
Morn extended his gloved left hand, deliberately waving it in front of the cabbage.
The cabbage reacted instantly, moving so fast it left an afterimage in the air.
Snap!
It bit down on the palm of Morn's left hand, its sharp teeth grinding against the dragon hide glove with a grating sound.
The moment it held on tight, exposing its most vulnerable 'back of the head'—the root of the cabbage heart—Morn's bare right hand moved.
[System Mode: Spiritual Plunder (Full Power)]
His five fingers clamped onto the cabbage's violently shaking bulb like an eagle's talons.
"Hiss—!"
The cabbage let out a sharp, air-leaking hiss.
Under Morn's palm, the violent red light representing the cabbage's 'primitive consciousness' was instantly extracted by the system before it could organize any decent resistance.
The originally ferocious magical plant suddenly froze in that second; its leaves drooped limply, the sense of tensed muscle vanished completely, and it turned into a lifeless, ordinary cabbage.
[Capture: Violent Plant Consciousness. Conversion complete.]
[Soul Strength increased slightly: 1.02 ➜ 1.04]
"The soul is dead. Now, this is just an empty can containing a blue Talent."
Morn did not let go with his right hand; a flash of madness crossed his eyes.
He took a deep breath, and even though his fingertips were slightly numb from the previous current overload, he still issued that greedy command in his mind.
"System, devour core Talent. Target: [Nerve Swiftness]."
[Evaluating...]
[Target consciousness has dissipated, no mental resistance.]
[Devour Success Rate: 99.9%]
Zzzzt—!
An unprecedented tingling current instantly drilled in through Morn's right index finger.
This feeling was completely different from the lukewarm water sensation of devouring green Talents in the past.
It was like a violent bolt of lightning, burning along the neural network all the way to the spine and then straight into the cerebral cortex.
Thump! Morn's heart contracted sharply.
In that instant, the world became... slow.
He saw a grain of pollen floating in the air, spinning and falling extremely slowly.
He heard Hannah Abbott's scream nearby stretched into a low-pitched slow-motion playback.
Even Professor Sprout's movements as she waved her wand to save people became frame-by-frame stop-motion animation in his eyes.
[Devour Successful!]
[Acquired Talent: [Nerve Swiftness (blue)]]
Simultaneously, the system interface in his mind vibrated violently, and a never-before-seen golden ripple exploded against the deep blue background.
—[System Notification]—
[Detected that the host has successfully fused their first 'blue (Rare)' grade Talent!]
[Achievement System activated.]
[Triggered Advancement Quest: [proof of the extraordinary]]
Quest Description: The mortal shell limits the sublimation of the soul. Only by fusing more high-order laws can the shackles of the genetic lock be broken.
Completion Condition: Devour and fuse 5 different blue Talents.
Current Progress: 1 / 5
Stage Reward Preview: Soul Strength Upper Limit +0.5 / Open 4th Talent Slot / Unlock 'Talent Fusion (Advanced)'.
"Whew..."
The flow of time returned to normal.
Morn shook his numb right hand, a suppressed smile curling at the corners of his mouth.
So that's how it is.
This is the ticket to becoming strong.
As long as he gathers five blue Talents, he can complete his first leap in life-tier.
"Mr. White?"
Professor Sprout's voice interrupted his thoughts.
She looked at the completely wilted cabbage in Morn's hand in surprise. "Goodness, you... tamed it? How did you do it?"
"I might have just massaged its roots a bit, Professor."
Morn lifted the drained waste material without changing his expression, his eyes sincere. "I found that although they have violent tempers, they're actually quite insecure."
"Incredible... a natural Herbologist!" Professor Sprout's cheeks flushed with joy. "Five points to Ravenclaw!"
Morn bowed slightly in thanks.
He turned around, his gaze scanning the entire greenhouse.
Everywhere he looked, those dozens of still-lively Chomping Cabbages were no longer plants in his eyes.
They were walking progress bars.
Although most were just green small fry, in that corner... there seemed to be an old cabbage shimmering with a blue light?
"1/5..."
Morn licked his lips, the glove in his right hand gripped tightly.
"It seems I can have a very full lunch today."
Chapter 18: The Picky Predator
That hunger was not alleviated by devouring the first blue Talent; instead, it was like a drop of water falling into boiling oil, igniting an even stronger predatory desire.
The line of golden text at the edge of his retina [Current Progress: 1 / 5] was still faintly flickering.
Morn shook his right hand; the newly acquired [Nerve Swiftness] was violently reorganizing within his neural circuits.
The sensation was marvelous, as if watching the world had shifted from a 24-frames-per-second film to 144-frames-per-second high-definition slow motion.
The originally noisy, chaotic greenhouse became eerily "slow" in his current perception.
A fly was gliding through the air in slow motion, each flap of its wings clearly visible.
When Professor Sprout turned around, the hem of her patched robe floated slowly as if in flowing water.
And... not far away, the terrified, twisted face of that unfortunate Hufflepuff, Justin Finch-Fletchley, was gradually widening, preparing to let out another scream.
"Too slow."
Morn coldly remarked in his heart.
The flow of the world hadn't changed; it was his processor that had been upgraded.
"Someone help me! It's biting my robe!"
Justin finally cried out, his voice choked with sobs. An overly energetic biting cabbage had latched onto the hem of his robe, shaking its head wildly like a bulldog, trying to tear off both fabric and flesh.
Morn moved.
He didn't run, merely lengthening his stride slightly.
To others, he still maintained that elegant walking posture, not even causing his robes to sway violently.
But with the enhancement of [Nerve Swiftness], he covered a distance that would normally require five steps in just two strides, appearing like a black ghost instantly behind Justin.
"Don't move, Finch-Fletchley."
The moment the voice sounded in Justin's ear, Morn's hand was already resting on the cabbage's "back of the head."
[System Mode: Spiritual Plunder]
Unlike the full-force burst used against the elite cabbage earlier.
Morn's operation now was more delicate, like a skilled nurse drawing blood.
His fingertips twitched slightly.
The aggressive cabbage seemed to have its spine ripped out; that violent red consciousness instantly flowed along Morn's arm into his body, transforming into nourishing dew for his soul.
[Soul Strength +0.002]
"Done."
Morn released his hand, and the cabbage slumped to the ground like mud.
"Th... thank you." Justin was tearfully grateful, looking at Morn as if he were the savior. "You're amazing, Morn. They obey you as if under the Imperius Curse."
"Just familiar with some biological weaknesses."
Morn smiled faintly, turning to walk toward the next target. "Also, its weakness is at the root, not the mouth."
This was a silent harvest.
Like a diligent assistant, he moved through every corner of Greenhouse One. Wherever chaos erupted, he appeared; wherever screams arose, he brought silence.
"Miss Patil, hold down its root."
Morn's fingers brushed past a cabbage attempting to spray poison gas. [Spiritual Plunder] —— Soul Strength +0.003.
"Longbottom, don't use your gloves to block its mouth; that's suicide."
Morn casually took the large purple cabbage from Neville's hands and, before handing it to the Professor, silently executed it. [Spiritual Plunder] —— Soul Strength +0.002.
[Current Soul Strength: 1.12]
Watching the slowly rising value, Morn was unsatisfied but had to accept it. Quantitative change leads to qualitative change. Although these "cannon fodder" had thin souls and couldn't provide blue Talents, they were safe and had no side effects—the best soul experience packs.
Until he reached the central area of the greenhouse.
There was a cabbage with unusually vibrant colors and yellow-green speckled leaf edges. Unlike its peers, it wasn't biting wildly but instead sprayed a pale yellow mist at a snail trying to approach. Sizzle. The snail, shell and all, dissolved into a smoking puddle of yellow liquid within seconds.
——[Analysis Lock]——
Target: Mutant Cabbage Talent: [Biological Acid (blue · Weakened Version)]
Morn's figure flashed.
With the enhancement of [Nerve Swiftness], he easily avoided the bites of two ordinary cabbages as if strolling through his backyard, instantly appearing before the Mutant Cabbage.
The cabbage reacted quickly. Sensing the threat, it immediately turned its "cannon" and spat a thick glob—no, a strong acid—at Morn's face.
"Too slow."
Morn tilted his head slightly, allowing the acid globule that could disfigure him to fly past his ear, landing on a flowerpot behind him with a corrosive sizzle.
Simultaneously, his right hand clamped onto the cabbage's root (throat) like iron tongs.
[System Mode: Spiritual Plunder]
Without any mercy.
As the suction in his palm erupted, the aggressive, corrosive red soul was instantly extracted.
The cabbage stiffened, its leaves going limp.
[Soul Strength +0.005]
"Not done yet."
Morn stared intently at the still-flickering blue glow within the now "vegetative" cabbage in his hand.
"System, devour Talent: [Biological Acid]."
[Judging... No conscious resistance. Devouring begins.]
A sour, burning sensation, like swallowing a mouthful of strong liquor, flowed up his arm. Morn's throat tingled slightly, his salivary glands beginning to secrete uncontrollably, but he could feel his saliva undergoing a qualitative change.
[Devouring successful!]
[Acquired Talent: [Biological Acid (blue)]]
[Achievement progress updated: 2 / 5]
Morn released his hand.
The cabbage, stripped of its soul and core Talent, lay limp in the flowerpot.
To verify the effect, Morn extended a finger, gently poked its leaf, and even deliberately squeezed its venom sac.
Squirt. A stream of clear liquid sprayed out, drenching Morn's glove.
No smoke, no corrosive sound, even the smell had become fresh.
"Turned into an ordinary cabbage that only sprays water..."
Morn smiled faintly, "Professor Sprout should like this'safe variety.'"
He turned away, unsatisfied.
"2/5... still need three."
He set his gaze toward the deepest corner of the greenhouse, the sunniest spot.
There resided the overlord of Greenhouse One—the massive, dark green, elderly biting cabbage.
It didn't bite wildly like the others because it didn't need to.
It only needed to lie there basking in the sun for its wounds to heal and its size to swell.
That powerful vitality could be sensed from afar.
——[Analysis Lock]——
Target: Elderly Cabbage (Leader-class)
Talent: [Photosynthetic Digestion (blue · Rare)]
"That one is mine."
Morn stepped over the scattered "scraps" (the ordinary cabbages he had drained of their souls) and walked toward his final prey.
Since I've already taken the acid, there's no reason to pass up this infinite endurance divine skill.
Chapter 19: The Withered Overlord
Stepping into the deepest sun-drenched area of the greenhouse, the air instantly became dry and scorching hot, as if crossing from a tropical rainforest into the Sahara Desert.
Professor Sprout was busy at the other end of the greenhouse treating Neville Longbottom's bitten finger. No one noticed the one-sided hunt about to unfold in this corner.
The elderly Biting Cabbage entrenched in the flowerpot seemed to sense the demise of its kin.
Its broad, umbrella-like dark green leaves stood up alertly, their surface veins pulsing like blood vessels. The moment Morn stepped into its territory, it moved.
Unlike the chaotic biting of ordinary cabbages, this "Overlord's" attack was heavy and swift.
Its massive leaf, covered in thorns, swept across like a heavy hammer with a whooshing sound, attempting to swat the intruder away directly.
"If it were before, I might have had to roll away in a panic."
Morn looked at the sweeping strike, his eyes as calm as a stagnant pond.
In the vision provided by the newly acquired [Nerve Swiftness], this powerful, heavy attack was as slow as performing Tai Chi.
He simply crouched slightly. Whoosh! The enormous leaf swept past just over his head, the gust of wind ruffling the hair on his forehead.
Immediately after,
Morn didn't give it a chance for a second swing.
His right hand, like a slippery venomous snake, precisely pierced through the leaf's defensive net, plunging directly into the old cabbage's large mouth that was preparing to snap shut, and firmly grasped its large, powerfully pulsating core bulb.
"Got you."
[Spiritual Plunder (Full Power)!]
Hum—!
The old cabbage let out a resentful, muffled sound.
The dense, rock-like soul power it had accumulated over decades within its body was forcibly stripped away under the system's absolute suppression.
[Soul Strength Significantly Increased: 1.125 ➜ 1.30]
"A great tonic."
Morn felt a wave of clarity in his mind; the slight fatigue from continuously using his Talents earlier vanished completely.
But he didn't stop.
His target was the blue light sphere suspended within the remaining husk, emitting a warm, sun-like aura—that was the secret sustaining this plant's longevity and immortality.
"Hand it over."
[Devour Talent: [Photosynthetic Digestion (blue)]]
As the command was issued, Morn felt a warm, golden stream of heat flow into his body along his palm.
Every cell along the path of this warm flow cheered.
His stomach began to churn violently, rumbling with desire;
his skin grew slightly warm, as if it had turned into countless greedy little mouths, frantically devouring every strand of sunlight projected around him.
In stark contrast to Morn's radiant glow,
the old cabbage, originally dark green, glossy, and full of vitality, underwent a startling change the moment it lost its Talent.
Having lost [Photosynthetic Digestion], it also lost the ability to convert sunlight into life force.
In this hot corner of the greenhouse, the blazing sun that once nourished it now became its death knell.
Rustle... Its leaves visibly lost their luster, turning from dark green to a withered, scorched yellow.
The edges began to curl and crack, like a useless vegetable cut off from water and left to bake in the sun for ten days.
Finally, it collapsed powerlessly onto the dry soil, looking as if it had instantly aged to death.
[Devour Successful!] [Talent Acquired: [Photosynthetic Digestion (blue · Photosynthesis)]]
[Achievement Progress Updated: [proof of the extraordinary] — 3 / 5]
Morn stood in the sunlight, taking a deep breath.
A strange sensation enveloped his entire body.
The intense hunger that had surged up moments earlier due to his stomach's churning was immediately suppressed by the sunlight absorbed through his skin.
Although he still felt like eating, the physiological panic of "weakness if not eating" had vanished.
He felt as if he had become a perpetual motion machine that could operate indefinitely under the sun.
"Mr. White?!"
Having finished dealing with the incident on the other side, Professor Sprout turned around just in time to witness this scene.
She ran over in alarm, looking at the old cabbage that seemed to have died. "Merlin's beard! What happened to it? It was fine just now! It was the strongest of this batch!"
Morn withdrew his hand, quickly replacing his expression with one of innocence and concern, casually brushing off the dried leaf fragments clinging to his clothes.
"I don't know either, Professor."
Morn pointed at the withered cabbage, then at the Acid-Spitting Cabbage from earlier. "I was just doing as you said, pressing their roots to calm them down. And then... this big one seemed to suddenly give up the will to live."
Professor Sprout hurriedly took out her wand to examine the old cabbage.
"There are still signs of life... but very faint." The Professor frowned, her face full of confusion. "Its magical circuits... disappeared? It looks like an... ordinary, nearly sun-dried cabbage?"
She glanced back at the non-toxic Acid-Spitting Cabbage, then at this withered old cabbage.
The Professor looked up at Morn with an extremely complex gaze.
In the Wizarding World, some individuals are born with "Magic-Insulating" or "Magic-Vacuum" constitutions that unconsciously neutralize the magical properties of surrounding magical creatures.
"Mr. White..." Professor Sprout swallowed, her eyes holding a trace of awe. "Perhaps you possess some... rare Talent for 'purifying' magical plants? Or perhaps you 'calmed' it too much?"
"Perhaps."
Morn smiled apologetically. The sunlight falling on his face made him look full of harmless vitality. "So, did I mess up?"
"No, not entirely."
Professor Sprout looked at the room full of cabbages, now quiet (actually drained). Although the "death" of the old cabbage pained her, this was undoubtedly the safest and most hassle-free class she'd ever had.
"At least... no one else got hurt." The Professor sighed. "Five points to Ravenclaw. But next time, Mr. White, please do be... gentler. Don't 'calm' all their magic away."
"I'll be careful, Professor."
Morn nodded politely.
The class bell rang.
The Young Wizards fled the monster-filled greenhouse as if granted amnesty.
Morn walked out last.
He stepped out of the gloomy greenhouse door, and the midday sun poured onto him without obstruction. [Photosynthetic Digestion] automatically operated at full power, a trickle of warmth flowing beneath his skin, continuously replenishing his stamina.
He glanced at his own hands.
Left hand holding acid (chemical weapon), right hand holding photosynthesis (infinite endurance), brain running with extreme speed (physical cheat).
3 / 5. Only two steps away from that golden achievement.
"Tonight..."
Morn narrowed his eyes, gazing towards the Castle's towering turrets.
Harry Potter and Malfoy's duel appointment was tonight. That was a plot node and the best opportunity for him to find the remaining two puzzle pieces.
"Cerberus Fluffy... I hope your three heads hold what I'm looking for."
Chapter 20: The Cat Catcher in the Shadows
The midnight bell had just tolled, and the air in the Castle seemed to freeze, becoming heavy and cold.
Most of the torches in the corridor had already gone out, leaving only the pale moonlight slanting through the high windows, casting long, pale, and distorted shadows on the floor.
Moen White clung to the shadows outside the third-floor Trophy Room like a gecko.
His breathing frequency had been adjusted to its lowest point by the abundant physical energy provided by [Photosynthetic Digestion], and his heartbeat was so slow it had nearly stopped.
[Ghost Step] automatically corrected every point of pressure beneath his feet, ensuring that even when stepping on the centuries-old floorboards, he wouldn't make even the slightest creak.
He was waiting for the bait.
"This way! Hurry up!"
"Ron, shut up! You'll lead Filch right to us!"
"Neville, don't step on my feet!"
A flurry of panicked and undisguised footsteps broke the silence of the night.
Harry, Ron, Hermione, and the unlucky Neville were running wildly down the corridor like four startled, headless flies. They had clearly just discovered that Malfoy hadn't shown up for their duel at all, and Filch was hot on their heels.
Morn watched the group of Gryffindors coldly from the darkness.
In his [Biological Radar], these four people were like four moving torches in the dark; not only were their footsteps incredibly loud, but the scent of panicked sweat and adrenaline they emitted could be smelled from fifty meters away.
"Perfect bait."
Morn didn't move. His gaze bypassed the four and landed on the other end of the corridor.
He was waiting for the true hunter.
Although Filch was a Squib, his cat, named "Madam Norris," was the greatest nightmare for Hogwartsnight-wanderers.
That cat possessed a sort of supernatural perception, able to sniff out scents under invisibility cloaks and see through most low-level Disillusionment Charms.
That must be a blue Talent.
Meow—
An extremely faint, yet malicious low cry suddenly sounded from the corner ahead of Harry and the others.
The sound of feet braking sharply.
The four of them stopped in terror, their faces turning instantly pale.
A scrawny, grey-furred cat stepped out from the shadows.
A weird red light burned in its bulging, bulb-like eyes as it stared intently at the four students who were violating school rules.
Its tail stood perfectly upright, and its nostrils twitched slightly, as if it were confirming each person's scent to report to its master later.
——[Analysis Lock]——
Target: Madam Norris (Magical Creature · Half-breed Cat)
Status: Locking onto prey / Preparing to alert
Manifested Talent: [Soul Scent (blue)]
Effect: Able to smell magic residue and soul traits, and perform over-the-horizon tracking. Ignores physical invisibility.
"Found it."
Morn's pupils contracted sharply.
The fourth puzzle piece.
"Run!" Harry shouted desperately. "Kick it!"
"No!" Ron screamed. "Filch is right behind!"
Madam Norris opened her mouth.
She took a deep breath, and the vocal cords in her throat began to vibrate.
In just 0.5 seconds, that shrill scream, loud enough to be heard across half the Castle, would burst from her throat and summon the terrifying caretaker.
0.5 seconds.
To an ordinary person, it was just the blink of an eye.
But for the current Morn, it was enough time to finish a set of radio calisthenics.
[Nerve Swiftness]—Fully active.
The world fell into viscous slow motion once again.
The dust floating in the air stopped its dance.
Harry's wide-open mouth was frozen in mid-air, and Ron's flailing arms looked as if they were moving underwater.
The muscles in Madam Norris's throat were contracting extremely slowly, and a hint of cruel satisfaction had just surfaced in those red eyes.
A black shadow dropped from a ceiling beam.
There was no sound of wind. [Ghost Step] eliminated all air resistance and friction.
Like a diving eagle, Morn landed behind Madam Norris 0.1 seconds before she could let out a sound.
His pale, slender right hand, encased in a black leather glove, clamped down on the cat's scrawny neck like a hydraulic press with precision and ruthlessness.
*Click.*
It wasn't the sound of a bone breaking, but the sound of vocal cords being forcibly closed by physical means.
Madam Norris's impending scream was forced back into her stomach, turning into several painful "cough-cough" sounds, like a leaking ball.
She twisted her body frantically, claws extending, trying to shred the face of the attacker behind her.
But under the suppression of [Nerve Swiftness], all her counter-attacks were easily anticipated by Morn.
"Be quiet, lady."
Morn whispered in his heart. His fingers pressed firmly against the magic node on the cat's neck.
[System Mode: Spiritual Plunder]
Under the terrified gaze of Harry and the others, all they saw was a black shadow flash by, and the strange cat that had been about to scream was lifted up by a suddenly appearing hand.
Madam Norris trembled violently.
Her red eyes, once full of intelligence and cunning, were now wide with terror.
She felt it... something was being forcibly pulled from the depths of her soul. It was the sense of smell she relied on for survival, the capital that allowed her to act so arrogantly in this Castle.
Hum—
A wave of cold soul energy, smelling of dust and old ink, surged into Morn's arm.
Madam Norris's struggling ceased instantly.
Her upright tail went limp and drooped, and the red light in her eyes faded rapidly, finally turning into a pair of ordinary cat eyes that, while still glowing, were filled with dullness and confusion.
[Captured: Tracker's Consciousness. Conversion complete.]
[soul strength +0.005]
Morn didn't waste any time.
The moment that blue Talent light orb emerged, he immediately issued the devour command.
[Devour Successful!]
[Obtained Talent: [Soul Scent (blue)]]
[Achievement Progress Updated: [proof of the extraordinary] —— 4 / 5]
A cold, stimulating sensation rushed into his nasal cavity.
Morn subconsciously sniffed.
The world had changed.
Air was no longer just air. He smelled the sour stench of fear coming from Ron, the dry parchment scent from Hermione, and even more... a hundred meters away, a scent mixed with cheap tobacco, grease, and intense malice was rapidly approaching.
That was Filch.
"Meow?"
Madam Norris in his hand let out a silly, unthreatening meow, tilting her head as she looked at Morn, seemingly asking "Who are you?" and "Where am I?"
Morn casually tossed the now-useless cat onto the ground.
He turned around, fully revealing himself from the shadows, facing the four who were already dumbfounded.
"Stop dazing."
Morn's voice was as calm as if he were reading in the library. "Unless you want to stay here and help this stupid cat catch mice."
"W... White?"
Harry's eyes widened. Looking at Madam Norris chasing her own tail on the ground, and then at the indifferent Morn, his brain completely stalled.
"Filch will arrive on the scene in ten seconds."
Morn pointed to the locked wooden door at the end of the corridor—the direction leading to the Fourth-floor forbidden area.
"Run."
Chapter 21: Strong Acid and the Demented Watcher
Harry Potter's lungs felt like they were on fire, and his throat was filled with the metallic taste of blood.
He had never run this fast before; Ron's heavy footsteps and Neville's stifled whimpering merged into a chaotic drumbeat in his ears, each impact on the floor felt like a hammer striking his fragile nerves.
"Ahead! That's the Fourth-floor corridor!" Hermione gasped, pointing at an indestructible-looking oak door in the shadows ahead.
Morn was running at the back.
Unlike the four disheveled Gryffindors ahead of him, his breathing remained terrifyingly steady.
The vast reserves of physical energy from [Photosynthetic Digestion] were being continuously pumped into his muscle fibers, making his legs work tirelessly like precision pistons.
Meanwhile, [Nerve Swiftness] allowed him to precisely avoid every loose floorboard that might make a noise, making him look like a ghost flying close to the ground.
At this moment, his nostrils flared slightly.
The newly acquired [Soul Scent] allowed him to smell the rapidly approaching stench in the air—a mixture of old hair oil, moldy flannel, and a kind of morbid obsession.
The scent was creeping up from the stairwell behind them like a venomous snake.
"Filch," Morn counted down in his mind, "twenty seconds left."
"It's over!"
Ron, running at the front, slammed into the door and pushed the handle twice in despair. "It's locked! We're going to get detention!"
"Move!" Hermione pushed Ron aside, drew her wand, and waved it anxiously in the air. "Aloho—"
A hand wearing a black leather glove suddenly reached out from the side, firmly gripping Hermione's wand-wielding wrist and cutting the incantation off in her throat.
"Don't use magic."
Morn's voice was low and urgent, like a cold stone weighing on everyone's hearts. "The flash and magical fluctuations of a spell are like a flare in the dark. Unless you want Filch to pinpoint our location immediately."
"Then what do we do? He's right behind us!" Neville wailed, his body shaking uncontrollably, the sound of his chattering teeth particularly piercing in the dead silent corridor.
From the end of the corridor came the sound of Filch's heavy breathing and the metallic clanking of his swaying oil lamp—clank, clank.
Morn didn't answer.
Expressionless, he took off his right leather glove and stuffed it into his pocket.
His long, pale fingers slowly reached toward the brass lock cylinder.
In the past, he might have actually needed Hermione's spell.
But now, he had a quieter and more thorough solution.
Since magic could be detected, he would use chemistry.
[Talent Activated: Biological Acid (blue)]
There was no earth-shattering incantation.
To Harry's horror, a transparent, slightly viscous liquid suddenly secreted from the tip of Morn's index finger, gleaming with an unsettling luster in the faint moonlight.
The moment that finger was inserted into the keyhole—
Sizzle—!
An extremely pungent acid mist, smelling like rotten eggs mixed with burnt metal, erupted instantly, stinging everyone's nostrils and making their eyes water.
The hard brass lock cylinder was like butter cut by a hot knife; within seconds, it rapidly softened and collapsed, its precise internal pin structure turning into a puddle of white-smoke-emitting black water that flowed silently down the door crack.
"Get in."
Morn withdrew his finger, not even glancing at the completely destroyed lock, and pushed the door open with force.
The five of them filed inside.
Morn closed the door behind him, using the melted and deformed metal residue to jam the door shut again.
The moment the door closed, Filch's hunched figure appeared at the corner of the corridor.
"I think I heard them... those little brats... don't think you can run..."
Filch carried the dim oil lamp, his wrinkled face filled with twisted excitement, his cloudy eyes searching for prey in the shadows.
However, in the next second, his expression froze.
He saw the most devastating sight of his life.
Madam Norris, who usually glared at students with red eyes and would scream and alert him at the slightest movement, was now crouching in the middle of the corridor, happily chasing a passing moth next to the puddle of acid residue Morn had left.
"Madam Norris?" Filch was stunned, his oil lamp wobbling. "What's wrong with you? Where are they? Tell me the scent, quickly!"
In the past, the cat would have bristled her fur, hissed a warning, and pointed her tail in the direction the students had fled.
But now, Madam Norris simply looked up, her red eyes—once full of intelligence and malice—now cloudy and dull.
"Meow~"
She let out a silly-sounding call, devoid of any aggression, instead filled with the typical laziness of a house cat. She didn't even care about Filch's mud-stained trouser legs, rubbing against them affectionately before rolling onto her back on the floor, begging for a belly rub.
Her soul—the part that belonged to the 'hunter,' the [Soul Scent] Talent that could sense invisibility and magic—had been completely consumed by Morn.
Now, all that remained was an empty shell, a pet cat whose intelligence had regressed to an ordinary level.
"No... no!"
The oil lamp in Filch's hand almost fell to the ground. He knelt on the dusty floor, despairingly picking up the cat that had suddenly become "simple-minded," his voice trembling as if he were about to cry.
"What did you do to her?! Damn... damn students!"
Filch's roar echoed through the empty corridor, filled with helplessness and rage. "My sweet! Why aren't you catching them anymore? I'll hang you in the dungeon and skin you alive! I'll... I'll kill you!"
Behind the door.
Listening to Filch's shrill, near-collapsing curses, Ron covered his mouth, his eyes wide as saucers, pressing himself hard against the wall, not even daring to breathe.
He glanced at Morn.
By the faint light from Hermione's wand, Ron saw the Ravenclaw boy slowly taking his glove out of his pocket and putting it back on the right hand that had just melted metal.
Morn's profile looked cold and indifferent in the shadows, as if the caretaker's breakdown outside was nothing more than irrelevant background noise.
Compared to the roaring madman outside, Ron suddenly felt that this silent "savior" seemed to evoke a chill from deep within his bones.
The crisis seemed temporarily cut off by the door jammed with metal residue.
But Morn didn't slump in the corner gasping for air like Ron and Neville.
On the contrary, the moment he entered the room, his muscles tightened to the extreme under the stimulation of [Nerve Swiftness], and every hair on his body stood on end.
The air here was no longer the old, musty smell of the corridor.
A thick, nauseating stench hit him.
It was the characteristic body odor of a large wild predator, mixed with sulfur, rotting raw meat, and some kind of warm, damp saliva.
The smell was so thick it felt like it could clog one's lungs.
Chapter 22: The Trio of Vicious Dogs
"If I were you, I wouldn't be standing there panting."
Morn stood with his back to the group, ignoring Harry who was wiping sweat behind him. His gaze pierced through the pitch-black room, staring intently at the massive shadow ahead.
"What's wrong?" Harry had just caught his breath a little. He looked in the direction Morn was staring, his voice trembling slightly.
*Hooo—*
A massive sound of breathing, like the pulling of old bellows, suddenly rang out, creating a gust of air that sent Hermione's long hair flying backward.
Then, two... no, six massive, bell-like yellow eyes suddenly lit up in the darkness.
A faint glow lit up at the tip of the wand Hermione had just raised.
By this pale light, they finally saw what was in the room.
It was an absurdly large dog.
Its body filled the entire space from floor to ceiling, and its massive paws were thicker than Neville's waist.
Most terrifyingly, it had three heads.
The middle head was dripping thick saliva, the left head was yawning groggily, and the right head was staring fixedly at the intruders, a low growl like rolling thunder emanating from its throat.
*Grrrr...* The sound caused the air to vibrate, making the floor tremble slightly.
"Ah—!"
Neville and Ron screamed at the same time, but the sound caught in their throats, leaving them only able to make a cackling noise like a duck being strangled.
"It's alive! We're in the forbidden corridor on the fourth floor!" Hermione's voice was sharp and distorted. She instinctively backed away, her back hitting the door hard.
However, just as everyone else wanted nothing more than to shrink into the cracks of the walls, Morntook a step forward.
In his vision, the monster's image had been completely deconstructed by the system's data stream. It was no longer a terrifying guardian of hell, but a massive, breathing treasure trove.
—[Analysis Lock]—
Target: Cerberus (Fluffy)
Status: Alert / Hungry
Core Talent Analysis:
Left Head (Instinct): Responsible for basic physiological functions and intuition.
Middle Head (Thought): Responsible for tactical judgment and mana perception.
Right Head (Perception): Responsible for alertness and locking on.
Unified Talent: [Trinity (blue · Trinity Consciousness)]
Effect: Multi-core soul architecture. Can simultaneously process multiple complex sensory information and mana calculations. Moreover, soul strength stacks, greatly increasing resistance to mental attacks.
"This is it."
Morn's dark gray pupils flickered with greedy light in the darkness.
The reason he insisted on coming here, why he went through the trouble of catching the cat and dissolving the lock, even at the risk of exposing part of his strength, was for this final piece of the puzzle.
For someone determined to devour countless Talents and carry vast amounts of soul data, this "multi-core processor" soul architecture was the most perfect hardware upgrade he could find at the mortal stage.
"White! Are you crazy? Come back!" Harry shouted anxiously as he saw Morn walking toward the monster. He reached out to grab his robes but caught only air.
"Shh."
Without looking back, Morn simply placed a finger to his lips.
Fluffy's three heads roared simultaneously.
*Roar—!*
A massive wave of sound, mixed with saliva, surged out, shaking the ceiling and causing dust to fall.
Three bloody maws opened at once, revealing dagger-sharp fangs, ready to tear the reckless little snack before them into pieces.
But Morn was too fast.
In the high-speed vision of [Nerve Swiftness], the Cerberus's seemingly fierce pounce was as slow as an old man practicing Tai Chi in a park.
Morn was like a swift darting through a storm.
Side-step, slide, duck.
*Boom!* A massive paw, capable of crushing rock, brushed past his robe and slammed into the ground, sending wood splinters flying, yet it didn't even touch the hem of his clothes.
In that split-second opening, Morn had already closed in beside Fluffy's pillar-like front leg.
The newly acquired [Soul Scent] allowed him to clearly smell the only mana node on this giant beast—the "connection point" where the three souls converged and were most vulnerable.
He took off the glove he had just put on, and his pale palm pressed fearlessly against the rough, warm skin of the hellhound.
"Let me borrow your brain, big dog."
[System Mode: Spiritual Plunder (Targeted · Architecture Stripping)]
Morn didn't drain it directly as he had with Madam Norris; that would have killed it.
What he wanted was the "model," the "algorithm" of how these three souls coexisted.
*Buzz—!*
A massive, savage, and chaotic soul shock surged through Morn's arm and into his brain.
This was more violent than any previous devouring.
Morn felt as if three massive hammers were simultaneously slamming against his mental barriers, trying to crush his consciousness into pulp.
If it had been yesterday, Morn might have collapsed directly from a brain hemorrhage.
But now, with a soul strength of 1.30 and the continuous energy support from [Photosynthetic Digestion], he stubbornly withstood the impact.
A flash of ruthlessness crossed his eyes.
"Come... to me!"
[Analysis Complete.]
[Captured: Multiple Soul Architecture Map.]
[Devour Judgment: Success.]
[Acquired Talent: [Trinity (blue)]]
At that very moment.
The long-awaited, heavenly system notification finally exploded deep within his soul, drowning out all the noise.
*Dong—! Dong—! Dong—!*
Three long, successive tolls of a bell, as if coming from the end of the soul.
[Achievement Unlocked: [proof of the extraordinary] — 5 / 5]
[Prerequisites Met.]
[Soul Sublimation Process... Starting.]
An unprecedented golden glow erupted within Morn's body.
He felt as if his soul had broken through some invisible eggshell and begun to soar rapidly toward a higher dimension. His originally crowded and noisy brain instantly became incredibly vast and clear, as if a single-core processor had been upgraded to a supercomputer in an instant.
In the outside world.
Harry and the others watched in shock as the ferocious Cerberus suddenly seemed to have its bones removed the moment Morn pressed down on it.
Its three heads shook simultaneously, the murderous glint in its eyes quickly fading, replaced by a look of deep confusion and bewilderment.
The left head even bumped into the right one. They looked at each other with dull eyes, as if asking, "Who am I? Why was I biting him? Shouldn't I be sleeping?"
*Achoo!*
The middle head let out a massive sneeze, spraying saliva all over the floor.
Then, the behemoth collapsed onto the floor, letting out a whimper like a wronged puppy and burying its heads in its paws, its former majesty gone.
It wasn't dead, nor had it become stupid; it was just that its top-tier combat instinct for "three-headed cooperation and perfect hunting" had been completely stripped away by Morn. Now, it was just three slightly clumsy big dogs sharing one body.
Morn withdrew his hand and stood beside the massive dog head.
He gently patted Fluffy's wet nose, as if comforting a Chihuahua.
Then, he turned around.
In the darkness, his dark gray eyes seemed even deeper than before, faintly swirling with a soul-stirring luster.
"It seems he likes me."
Morn smiled slightly at the dumbfounded quartet. Although a violent evolutionary storm was raging deep within his soul, his tone remained as calm as if he were discussing the weather.
"Let's go. Before Filch finds the spare key."
Chapter 23: The Fissioning Brain and Dual Casting
Back in the dormitory.
Moen White pulled the heavy, dark blue velvet curtains of his four-poster bed tightly shut, completely cutting off the last faint sliver of moonlight and the soft snores of his roommate, Terry Potter.
Absolute darkness and silence enveloped the small space within the bed.
Morn sat cross-legged on the bed, taking a deep breath. The air was filled with the dry scent of the old wooden bedframe and the faint smell of lavender laundry detergent from the bedding.
Only now was the permission granted, releasing the golden achievement prompt that had been flashing and suppressed at the edge of his vision.
Dong— Dong—
Accompanied by two dull, majestic bell tolls, a tremor not from his flesh but from the depths of his soul instantly swept through his entire body.
This wasn't the excruciating pain of nerves being pierced by electricity like before.
On the contrary, it was a chilling sensation of 'expansion.'
It was like a narrow, turbulent stream suddenly having its banks washed away by a storm, its channel forcibly widened, the once murky, congested flow instantly becoming broad and placid.
Morn could even clearly hear the faint, cracking sounds emanating from his cerebral cortex—like ice fracturing—*crack, crack*.
It wasn't shattering; it was growth.
[Achievement Settlement Complete: [proof of the extraordinary]]
[Reward Granted: soul strength Limit +0.5]
[Current soul strength: 1.30 ➜ 1.80]
[Evaluation: Peak of Mortals. Your soul barrier is now as tough as iron. Conventional blue Talents can no longer cause mental backlash against you.]
"1.8..."
Morn clenched his fist, sensing an unprecedented clarity and solidity.
The feeling was like switching from a wobbly, rickety bicycle to the driver's seat of a heavy tank.
That constant sense of urgency, worrying about soul overload and carefully calculating 'memory,' had finally vanished like mist.
But he knew the true qualitative change wasn't just in the numbers.
There was also the core Talent he had just plundered from the three-headed dog, Fluffy—[Trinity].
Morn opened his eyes.
In the darkness, his eyes didn't glow, but his gaze became unnaturally 'hollow'—an extreme, almost inhuman sense of absolute rationality.
"Test begins."
He slowly raised the wand in his right hand, pointing its tip towards the ceiling.
At the same time, his left hand casually grabbed an eagle-feather quill from beside his pillow, laying it flat on his palm.
Primary Consciousness: Activate.
Morn clearly and steadily uttered the incantation: "Lumos."
Without any delay, a cold white light ball, only the size of a thumb and incredibly stable, ignited at the wand's tip.
The light illuminated the space within the curtains, and the air carried the faint, distinctive hum of focused magic.
In the past, maintaining such precise illumination would have required most of Morn's concentration.
But now, he found his thoughts weren't fully occupied. It was as if a completely independent 'background window' had opened up in his brain.
Secondary Consciousness: Intervene.
While maintaining the Lumos Charm in his right hand without the slightest tremor, Morn projected that 'idle' consciousness entirely onto the quill in his left hand.
He didn't speak an incantation.
This was the more difficult silent casting.
"Rise."
He issued the command within that independent consciousness window.
A miracle occurred.
The eagle-feather quill, without any external support, wobbled an inch above Morn's left palm, then steadily floated up.
[Dual Casting]
Watching this scene, a smile that was hard to suppress curled at the corner of Morn's mouth.
Right hand maintaining light, left hand controlling levitation.
Two distinctly different magical fluctuations intertwined within the confined space yet did not interfere with each other, like two parallel railway tracks.
No headache.
No dizziness.
This'simultaneous Dual Casting' technique, which ordinary Wizards would find as difficult as scaling the heavens, felt as natural and fluid as breathing and blinking under his current [Trinity] architecture.
"Is this the world of high-level Wizards?"
Morn dispersed the magic.
The quill drifted lightly onto the quilt, and the light at the wand tip also extinguished.
He closed his eyes, his consciousness sinking deep into the system.
The translucent, dark blue panel materialized in the darkness, its data now completely transformed.
He closed his eyes, his consciousness sinking deep into the system.
The translucent, dark blue panel materialized in the darkness, its data now completely transformed.
——————————
[Character Status Panel: Moen White]
Current Level: Hogwarts First-Year / Mortal Realm Predator
Status: Excellent (Photosynthetic Charging)
soul strength: 1.80 (Evaluation: Peak of Mortals. Your soul barrier is as tough as iron. Success rate for devouring conventional blue Talents is corrected to 98%, and you are highly resistant to mental-type intimidation.)
Soul Slots: 4 (Expanded by 1 slot)
Loaded Talents:
Slot 1: [Trinity (blue)]
Description: Multi-core soul architecture. Grants the host multi-threaded thinking capability, significantly enhancing mental resistance and magical control precision.
Slot 2: [Nerve Swiftness (blue)]
Slot 3: [Photosynthetic Digestion (blue)]
Slot 4: [Soul Scent (blue)]
Talent Inventory:
[Biological Acid (blue)]
[Ghost Step (Green)]
[Malice Perception (Green)]
[Biological Radar (Green - Mutated)]
[Absolute Memory (Green)]... Looking at this luxurious panel, Morn let out a long, slow breath.
A week ago, he was a sickly weakling with a soul strength of only 0.8, at risk of sudden death at any moment.
Now, he possessed the reactions of a cheetah, the endurance of a plant, the senses of a beast, and... a brain like a supercomputer.
More importantly, that newly added 4th slot gave him more tactical options.
He no longer had to agonize over choosing between 'bringing detection' or 'bringing attack,' and could even keep the powerful [Biological Acid] as a standard weapon.
"Hardware upgrade complete."
Morn lay back on his pillow, but... he didn't fully fall asleep.
The advantage of [Trinity] manifested again—he could let his primary and secondary consciousness enter deep sleep to restore his spirit, while keeping an instinctive consciousness in a shallow, vigilant state.
If anyone pulled open his curtains, or if abnormal magical fluctuations appeared in the air, he could wake up and draw his wand within 0.1 seconds.
"Next..."
He planned his future blueprint in that half-asleep, half-awake state.
"Time to fill the'software.' Only by learning enough powerful spells can I unleash this body's true destructive potential."
Tonight, Hogwarts remained peaceful as ever.
But no one knew that a true monster had quietly finished incubating within Ravenclaw Tower.
Chapter 24: Gravel that Reverses Entropy Increase
Thursday morning sunlight slanted through the high, stained windows into the Charms Class,
visible chalk dust floating in the air, mixed with a faint scent of scorched porcelain.
It was the lingering scent left behind after Seamus Finnigan had just blown his teacup black.
Moen White sat in the back row of the classroom, his fingers unconsciously stroking the surface of his Holly Wand.
A background thread of [Trinity] was tirelessly analyzing the frequency of magic fluctuations Professor Flitwick had just demonstrated in his mind.
"The Mending Charm is not a simple adhesive."
Professor Flitwick stood on a pile of thick books, his high-pitched voice full of passion, "It is a backtrack to the 'complete state' of an object. You must clearly construct the original appearance of the object in your mind. The clearer the intent, the more perfect the repair."
On the lectern in front of him sat an exquisite Bone China Teacup that had just been restored, its patterns continuous, without even a hint of a crack.
"Now, it's your turn."
The sound of crackling and shattering rang out in the classroom. The Young Wizards excitedly smashed the teacups in front of them and then waved their wands in an attempt to restore them.
"Reparo!" Hermione Granger's confident and standard incantation came from the front row.
With a soft glow, the pile of porcelain fragments on her desk, broken into seven or eight pieces, quickly gathered and closed. In the blink of an eye, a perfect teacup reappeared.
"Perfect! Miss Granger!" Professor Flitwick clapped and cheered, "A textbook demonstration! Five points to Gryffindor!"
Hermione raised her chin proudly and habitually looked back at the Ravenclaw corner.
However, this glance left her stunned.
Morn did not smash his cup like the others.
He was doing something inconceivable—using a heavy Inkstone, seemingly meant for pressing down parchment, to expressionlessly grind the delicate teacup into pieces bit by bit.
Crunch, crunch... rustle... the tooth-aching grinding sound seemed particularly eerie in the noisy classroom.
Ron stopped what he was doing and looked at Morn in horror: "Mate, are you making a Potion or going mad? Professor Flitwick said 'break it,' not 'cremate it'!"
Just one minute later.
There were no porcelain shards on Morn's desk, only a pile of fine, white porcelain powder.
"Too simple."
Morn whispered in his heart as he looked at the pile of powder.
Ordinary Mending Charms are just jigsaw puzzles; you only need to find the matching points of the fracture surfaces.
But what if even the 'fracture surfaces' no longer exist? What if there are thousands of disorganized grains of sand?
This was the true test for 1.8 soul strength and the computing power of [Trinity].
"What is he doing?"
The surrounding students stopped their actions and whispered. Even Professor Flitwick was drawn by the commotion and walked over in confusion.
"Mr. White?" The Professor looked at the pile of powder, his brow furrowing so much it was almost knotted, "While I encourage destructive experimentation, the Mending Charm has its limits. Once the material structure is completely destroyed into powder..."
"Entropy increase is irreversible, but in the world of magic, as long as the computing power is sufficient, one can flow against the current."
Morn calmly interrupted the Professor. His voice wasn't loud, yet it carried an air of absolute rationality.
He slowly raised his wand.
His dark gray pupils lost their highlights in an instant, becoming like two bottomless ancient wells.
[Talent Activated: Trinity (blue)]
[Multi-threaded operation fully open]
[Target Lock: 3,482 particle coordinates]
[Architectural restructuring simulation... Start.]
"Reparo."
Morn softly uttered the incantation.
There was no intense light, only a scalp-numbing, extremely obscure, and high-frequency magicfluctuation overflowing from the tip of his wand.
The pile of porcelain powder on the desk suddenly trembled.
Then, under everyone's dumbfounded gaze, the pile of white sand rose up like a dust storm played in reverse.
It didn't immediately turn back into a cup.
Countless tiny particles spun wildly in the air,collision,arrangement.
It was thousands of independent points searching for their original spatial coordinates.
A layer of fine sweat broke out on Morn's forehead.
Three consciousness threads were operating under overload simultaneously:
Thread A maintained the stability of the magic output;
Thread B captured the physical attributes of every grain of dust;
Thread C performed pixel-level assembly against the 'original blueprint' of the teacup in his mind.
"Return to position."
Hum—
The dust storm flying all over the sky suddenly froze.
The next second, they collapsed toward the center.
There was no crisp "click" of snapping together.
Instead, it was a dense rustling sound, similar to quicksand aggregating.
When the dust settled.
A white, warm, and delicately patterned Bone China Teacup stood quietly on the desktop.
It wasn't just repaired.
Its surface was even smoother than before, as if it had undergone a second firing. Because this was a rearrangement at the particle level, all minor flaws had been smoothed out by Morn's will.
"This..."
The wand in Ron's hand fell to the ground.
Hermione stared fixedly at the cup, as if she had seen a teacup suddenly turn into a dragon.
Professor Flitwick reached out tremblingly and picked up the cup.
He held the cup up to the sunlight, carefully scrutinizing every inch of its texture.
"No cracks... no bonding points..."
The Professor's voice became high-pitched due to extreme shock, "This is reshaping! This is Material Restructuring! You weren't just repairing it, Mr. White, you were... you were re-creating it!"
He suddenly turned his head to look at Morn, who was calmly wiping the sweat from his forehead with a handkerchief. His gaze was no longer the affection for a first-year student, but a kind of awe as if looking at a monster.
This level of magic control precision was something even many Aurors couldn't achieve.
It meant the caster's brain must possess the computing power of a precision alchemical instrument.
"Ravenclaw..." Professor Flitwick took a deep breath, his voice loud and clear, "Fifty points! For this ultimate exploration of the essence of magic!"
The classroom erupted in an uproar.
Fifty points! That was almost the base score for a House Cup.
Morn politely stood up to express his thanks, but he didn't show much wild joy.
What he cared about wasn't the points.
He saw the burning flame in Professor Flitwick's eyes—the flame of cherishing Talent, and the flame of wanting to teach everything he knew.
This was his goal for today.
Using a pile of powder to exchange for a chance at the key to the Restricted Section's door.
Chapter 25: The Philosophy of Entropy Reduction
The bell ending the class was like a sharp steak knife, slicing through the thick silence in the classroom born of shock.
The Young Wizards, who had been so quiet it seemed even their breathing had stopped, suddenly erupted as if the Petrificus Totalus had been lifted. They hurriedly packed their bags while casting awestruck and strange glances at the black-haired boy sitting in the back row.
Hermione Granger was packing her things much slower than usual.
She stuffed her textbooks into her bag, bit her lip, and finally turned around to walk to Morn's desk.
"Even though I don't understand how you did it," Hermione said, tilting her chin—the final stubbornness of a Gryffindor top student—though a light of recognition never seen before flickered in her eyes, "Professor Flitwick was right; it was indeed... brilliant. I think I need to re-examine the chapters on the Conservation of Matter in 'A Guide to Advanced Transfiguration'."
"Thank you, Miss Granger."
Morn was unhurriedly wiping his wand clean and placing it back into a hidden pocket in his sleeve. "However, rather than Transfiguration, I might suggest you look for the concept of 'entropy' in Mugglephysics books. Sometimes, magic is just a shortcut to achieving a physical result."
Hermione paused for a moment, but before she could ask what "entropy" was, Professor Flitwick's high-pitched voice came from the podium.
"Mr. White, please stay behind. Everyone else may go to lunch."
Hermione gave Morn a deep look before turning to leave the classroom with the crowd. At the door, Ron was still whispering to Harry, "Did you see that? When he was grinding that cup, he looked like a serial killer..."
A few minutes later, only Morn and Professor Flitwick, who was still standing on his stack of books, remained in the classroom.
The restless magical fluctuations in the air had settled, leaving only the midday sunlight from the window shining on the dancing chalk dust.
Professor Flitwick was still tightly clutching the bone china teacup that Morn had reassembled.
He hopped down from the books. Although he only reached Morn's waist, when he looked up, his sharp little eyes held the scrutiny and pressure unique to a top dueling master.
"This isn't a Mending Charm in the usual sense, Mr. White."
The Professor's fingers lightly stroked the wall of the cup, his fingertips feeling the flawless, smooth texture. "A normal Reparo merely uses magic to bond fractured surfaces. Even the most skilled Aurorwould leave traces of magical adhesion when repairing something powdered like this. But this..."
He held the cup up, looking through it against the sunlight.
"A perfect crystalline structure. It's almost like... time turning back."
Professor Flitwick set the cup down and put his hands behind his back, his tone turning serious. "How did you construct such a complex model in your mind? Don't tell me it was intuition; Ravenclaw does not believe in intuition."
"Of course it wasn't intuition, Professor. It was calculation."
Morn didn't feel flustered at being seen through. On the contrary, this was exactly the pace of conversation he wanted—an equal exchange built on rationality.
He walked to the podium, picked up a piece of chalk, and casually drew an upward curve on the blackboard.
"The world always tends toward chaos; it's a law of nature. A cup shattering into powder is 'Entropy Increase,' an irreversible process."
Morn's voice was calm and penetrating. The logical threads of [Trinity] were running at high speed, packaging the physics knowledge he had learned in the Muggle world into profound magical theory.
"Most Wizards cast the Mending Charm by using magic to forcibly 'glue' the fragments back together; that is defying nature. But what I just did..."
The chalk in Morn's hand drew a returning arrow at the peak of the curve.
"I didn't try to 'bond' them. I simply locked onto the original spatial coordinates of every single particle of dust at a microscopic level, and then..." Morn paused, a cold light of rationality flashing in his dark gray eyes, "applied a reverse Vector Force to them. I let them 'flow' back on their own."
"So I say, this isn't repair; it's a reversal. It's a forced reduction of entropy."
Clack.
The wand in Professor Flitwick's hand dropped onto the desk.
The Ravenclaw Dean, who possessed Goblin blood, now had his mouth wide open, looking as shocked as if he were hearing for the first time that the earth was round.
He certainly didn't understand what "entropy" or "Vector" meant, but he understood the core logic Morndescribed—not using magic to patch the world, but using rules to redefine it.
This was more than just Talent.
This was an extremely terrifying, even heterodox, philosophy of magic.
Usually, only those old monsters in the Department of Mysteries who had studied "time" and "matter" for decades would ponder such questions.
"Merlin's beard..."
Professor Flitwick pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the sweat from his forehead. "You're only in your first year? If you hadn't grown up right under my nose, I would suspect you were Merlin himself having drunk an Ageing Potion."
The Professor paced in a circle twice, seemingly digesting Morn's words.
Finally, he stopped and looked up at the student who had given him such a massive surprise.
"Standard curriculum is a waste of your life, Mr. White."
Professor Flitwick's tone changed. It was no longer the doting tone used for a bright student, but the solemnity reserved for an academic peer.
"If you don't have classes this afternoon..." The Professor pointed toward the end of the corridor. "Perhaps you would like to come to my office for a cup of tea? I have some notes on the magical architecture of Ancient Runes there. I think... you would be interested in that 'Coordinate System' theory."
A genuine smile finally tugged at the corner of Morn's mouth.
The fish had taken the bait.
"It would be my honor, Professor."
Morn bowed slightly, his etiquette impeccable. "Additionally, I am also very much looking forward to hearing about your dueling experiences from your youth. If there is an opportunity, perhaps I could also ask for your guidance on the application of... 'Vector Forces' in actual combat?"
Professor Flitwick paused, then erupted into a hearty laugh.
"Hahaha! Want to learn dueling? You greedy brat!"
The Professor waved his hand, signaling Morn to follow.
"Come along then. As long as your brain can hold it, I'll dare to teach it. Let's see who gets drained first!"