The Mage's Path: Chapter 37

Hi all, 

Here’s the second Mage’s Path chapter. Struggled with this one.

Chapter 37

The same evening that Harry promised himself to complete the Troll quest, he made his way down to the first-floor corridor with the secret passage. Celeste went with him, saying he might get into trouble and she didn’t want him to handle it alone.

He spoke the password, and the stone wall split apart. They stepped into the tunnel. Harry blinked as he saw that the tunnel was brightly lit. Torches blazed in iron sconces, their flames dancing against weathered stone walls. 

"Is someone else down here?" Celeste asked.

"Judging by my luck, there probably is." Harry peered down the passage. 

"Do you think it's the culprit? Or did the trolls do this?"

Harry shrugged. "Dunno. Hey, how many trolls does it take to light a torch?"

"I can't count that high."

They moved deeper into the tunnel. Dark stains splattered the floor in irregular patterns. Harry's nose wrinkled as a sharp stench hit him, making his eyes water. The trolls had defecated into the tunnel.

"Yikes." Celeste wrinkled her nose. "Why don't the trolls clean up after themselves? How inconsiderate."

"Be sure to tell them that if we run into one." Harry stepped carefully around a particularly foul-smelling pile.

They followed the passage for over twenty minutes before a solid wall blocked their path. If it took them this long to get through the tunnel, they must be well inside the Forbidden Forest by now.

“What do we do now?” Celeste asked.

Harry spoke the password again, and to his surprise, it worked. The barrier rumbled apart, revealing a chamber beyond. Stone cinder blocks stretched from floor to ceiling. Torch flames revealed shelves sagging under the weight of mouldering sacks.

"This is not the Forbidden Forest." Celeste's wings buzzed with agitation. "Didn't the twins say it led to the Forbidden Forest?"

"Someone must have made some renovations." Harry surveyed the cluttered storage room. "When was the last time the twins came down here?"

They picked their way through scattered supplies. Burlap sacks lay torn open, their contents spilled across the floor. A door stood slightly ajar at the chamber's far end.

Harry approached it, fingers curling round the iron handle. He eased it open, peering through the gap.

A corridor stretched beyond. Barred cells lined both walls, each with heavily reinforced metal doors. Harry could hear shuffling sounds from within the nearest cell.

"What do you think it is?" Celeste whispered against his ear.

"Only one way to find out." Harry pushed the door wider. "At least there's a barrier between us and whatever's inside."

"That's a small comfort."

They crept forward. Light spilled across the first cell's interior, revealing grey flesh and matted hair. The troll inside spotted them and slammed its bulk against the bars. 

Harry's breath caught in his throat. The creature was enormous—even larger than the one they'd faced in the bathroom. Its shoulders pressed against the cell's ceiling, forcing it into a permanent hunch. Scars crisscrossed its hide like a roadmap of violence. 

The creature pressed its face between the bars, close enough that Harry could smell its rancid breath. Drool pooled on the stone floor. Its massive hands wrapped around the iron, trying to bend the metal apart.

Harry took a step back. "Who wants to keep trolls as prisoners?" 

"Who knows?” Celeste pointed. “But this isn't the only one."

They moved down the corridor. Each cell contained another troll. At their approach, the entire underground prison erupted. Fists hammered against metal doors. The cacophony made Harry's ears ring.

"I don't like the look of this,” Harry said. "Imagine if all these trolls were released into the castle simultaneously."

"Yep, one was bad enough," Celeste replied. "We need to figure out who's behind this before they get up to more mischief."

"Let's continue exploring, but let's be careful. The one behind this may still be here."

They pressed deeper into the underground complex. The corridor ended at a heavy wooden door. Harry gripped the handle and cracked it open.

He froze.

The room beyond looked like a medieval laboratory, but one made by madmen. Shelves along the walls held glass vials filled with strange, unidentifiable substances. At the centre stood a large table with iron restraints bolted to its surface.

A troll lay strapped to the table, its eyes wide with terror. A figure hunched over it, muttering in broken syllables. Professor Quirrell—but something was wrong. His purple turban lay discarded on a nearby chair.

Something perched on Quirrell's bare scalp. A creature the size of an infant, its red skin mottled and diseased. Features twisted into a grotesque parody of a human face.

Neither figure had a name or level displayed above them. Just like when he first met Quirrel, only question marks appeared. Whatever this thing was, it could hide its identity.

"Curse you, Hag," the creature hissed, its voice carrying a stutter. "Using your tricks to avoid being killed by my lovely beasties. But I won't let you get away a second time."

Celeste tugged frantically at Harry's ear, but he couldn't move. The scene held him transfixed—horror and fascination warring in his chest.

The creature's claws dug into Quirrell's scalp. The man jerked like a marionette, shambling toward the shelves. He grabbed a glass jar filled with viscous liquid.

Quirrell returned to the table. The creature's puppet forced open the troll's massive jaws, pouring the jar's contents down its throat. The troll jerked and thrashed, its muscles pulling hard against the restraints holding it.

"Puck has created a nice draught for you," the creature giggled. "Make you more powerful, yes, it will. Send a few of you into the school to kill that Hag. I won't let her escape again. Thinks she can escape my master and hide at Hogwarts."

Harry felt the hairs on his neck stand up. This thing was truly frightening. 

"We need to get out of here," Celeste hissed.

The creature's head snapped toward them. Red eyes met Harry's through the gap in the door.

"What's this? We have some intruders?" Its voice dripped with malicious delight. "Little Harry Potter. What a fortuitous opportunity. Why don't you step into my lab?"

Harry slammed the door shut. His feet moved before conscious thought took hold—sprinting down the corridor as trolls roared behind their bars. Celeste clung to his collar, her wings beating frantically.

Behind them, something massive crashed against wood. Splintering sounds echoed through the underground prison. 

Harry yanked open the storage room door.

The tunnel entrance ground opened. A tremendous impact shook the chamber—the door exploding outward in a shower of splinters. The troll burst through, its eyes blazing with unnatural fury.

"Go, go, go!" Celeste shrieked.

They plunged into the tunnel. Stone walls scraped against Harry's shoulders as the passage began closing. Huge fingers grasped the edge of the entrance, struggling against the mechanism.

Harry spun round, summoning magic into his hands and unleashed Gale Push.

Wind erupted from his palms—a focused wind that struck the troll's chest. The creature staggered backwards, its grip loosening. The entrance closed with a grinding sound.

Thuds echoed from behind the stone, but Harry didn't wait to see if it held. He activated Wind Dash and sprinted through the tunnel. He kept applying it until the opposite entrance appeared ahead.

He spoke the password, and the stone parted, revealing the familiar first-floor corridor. Harry stumbled through, gasping for breath as the passage sealed behind him. 

"We need to inform the headmaster," Celeste said. "This isn't something we can handle on our own."

Harry nodded, his throat too tight for words. The creature's red eyes were burned into his memory.

"I don't know what that thing was, but it was bloody terrifying." He straightened, forcing his breathing to steady. "Has it been controlling Quirrell all this time?"

"At least we know why he stutters."

"Come on. Let's head up to the headmaster's office."

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Harry trailed behind Dumbledore and Snape as they walked down the tunnel. Their wands were raised, ready to face whatever awaited them at the end.

"How did you find the secret entrance, Mr Potter?" Dumbledore asked.

"Fred and George Weasley. We were investigating the troll incident when Ron suggested we ask the twins if they knew of any secret entrances."

"I should have known they were involved somehow." A hint of amusement flickered in Dumbledore's eyes.

"Dunderheads will stick together, it seems," Snape drawled.

Celeste snorted. "Hey, you stole my line. Get your own, you overgrown bat." 

"Watch your tongue, or I will pluck your wings to use in my potions."

"I would like to see you try, dunderhead."

"Enough." Dumbledore raised his hand. "We're approaching the end."

Harry's mind drifted to the chaos of the past hour. Running into Snape outside the headmaster's office had been bad luck—the Potions master had sneered at every word of his story. Even dragging him to Dumbledore's office hadn't helped much. The tale sounded mad, Harry admitted to himself. A creature controlling Quirrell like a puppet? Trolls in an underground prison? He'd grown impatient as they questioned him for several minutes, Snape's insults making his temper fray.

When Dumbledore finally decided to investigate, they hadn't headed straight for the tunnel. Instead, they'd wasted precious time searching Quirrell's quarters. The rooms stood empty, of course, with no trace of their occupant. By the time they'd made their way to the secret entrance, Harry's nerves were wound tight.

They reached the end of the tunnel, and Harry spoke the password. The entrance rumbled open. Harry stepped forward, then froze.

The forest stretched beyond the threshold. Thick bushes concealed the entrance on all sides, their branches intertwining in an impenetrable thicket. It would be easy to miss the entrance unless you walk straight into the thicket.

Harry frowned. "What the hell is going on?"

"Doesn't look like any secret lab to me." Snape's voice dripped with satisfaction. "As expected, you were lying."

"I'm not lying. There's supposed to be a storage room here." Harry stared at the woodland scene, his mind reeling.

Dumbledore stepped past them, waving his wand in complex patterns. "There are unusual traces of magic here. I don't think we can dismiss Harry's story so easily. The fact that this tunnel exists, bypassing the wards, is alarming enough."

"There's an easy way to prove it," Celeste said. "You have a Pensieve in your office, Headmaster. Harry can show you his memory."

Dumbledore's eyebrows rose. "How do you know about the Pensieve, Miss Celeste?"

"Must have heard about it in passing."

"Hmm. Your suggestion is a good one. Let's collect the Deputy Headmistress on the way. She needs to know what's happening."

Harry followed them back through the tunnel, disappointment weighing on his shoulders. The quest remained incomplete—he needed to capture the culprit to finish it. Whatever Puck had done to move its laboratory, the delay had cost them their chance. The thought of that creature still lurking somewhere, plotting another attack on the castle, made his skin crawl.

If only Snape hadn't been such a git about believing him. If only they hadn't wasted time searching Quirrell's empty quarters. Harry's hands clenched into fists. Every minute they'd spent arguing in the headmaster's office had given Puck more time to cover its tracks.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Harry held Fawkes's gaze whilst waiting for the headmaster and professors to finish viewing his memory. The text floating above the phoenix's head made him blink twice.

Fawkes - Phoenix - Level 231

The bird's level was even higher than Dumbledore's. How long had the phoenix lived? Level didn't necessarily translate to raw power—their abilities were vastly different—but Harry wouldn't want to test Fawkes in combat.

"What are you staring at, mister?" Celeste whispered.

Fawkes trilled in amusement, finally breaking his gaze to ruffle his feathers.

Celeste leaned closer to Harry's ear. "There's a Pensieve right there. Why don't we come back here and borrow it so we can finish the Hidden in Plain Sight quest? We have the password to Dumbledore's office."

"Didn't McGonagall say the Pensieve stores the memory? What good is borrowing it if Dumbledore will notice it when we return it to his office?"

"When I said borrow, I meant steal. There's no need to return it."

"Don't you think the headmaster will suspect us?"

"He'll need to prove it. He can't find the Pensieve if it's stored in your inventory."

Before Harry could respond, the professors straightened. They'd finished watching the memory. Dumbledore and Snape looked grim, whilst McGonagall had gone pale.

"What was that creature?" McGonagall asked.

"I have an idea, but I'll need to confirm it." Dumbledore stroked his beard. "Whatever it may be, it's controlling Quirrell. He's in danger."

"I wouldn't be surprised if Quirrell is already dead." Snape's black eyes glittered. "The real question is whether this creature has stuck around, or has already escaped."

"What is this Hag the creature was referring to?” McGonagall's eyes narrowed. “It seems like it was the target of the troll attack.” 

Dumbledore looked troubled. "I don't know, but if there's a Hag in the castle, we have even bigger problems. How have they escaped my notice?"

"What is a Hag?" Harry asked.

"A foul creature. If you've read stories about evil witches, they're likely based on them. They're proficient in all sorts of curses and hexes, and won't hesitate to harm others to achieve their objectives."

Harry's mind flashed to Professor Trelawney and their unsettling encounters. If there was a Hag in Hogwarts, she topped his suspect list. But being creepy didn't count as proof. He stayed quiet.

He would need to research Hags on his own. If Trelawney was indeed one, he needed to be prepared. Her interest in him might cause problems later on. 

"Harry, there's something I want to ask you." Dumbledore's blue eyes fixed on him. "Is it possible you're an elementalist?"

"What do you mean?"

"The memory shows you're very proficient with wind magic. Not only did you push the troll back, but you used it to increase your running speed."

Harry had prepared for this question. Showing the memory would inevitably lead here.

"What's an elementalist?"

"Someone very proficient in using elemental magic," McGonagall explained. "Any spells under that element are usually more powerful and cost less magic to cast."

"I don't know if I'm an elementalist, but I've always been adept at using wind magic."

"This may be tied to why you're experiencing early magical maturity." Dumbledore leaned forward. "Elementalists are rare and highly sought after, Harry. If people find out you are one, they will try to use you for their own benefit. I suggest you keep it secret from others."

"It's not like I'm advertising it. You're the first ones to find out."

"Good. Now, I suggest you get to bed as it's almost curfew. Minerva, can you escort Harry to his common room?"

McGonagall nodded. "Come along, Mr Potter. We can discuss the punishment you'll serve for poking your nose into things that are none of your business."

Celeste laughed at Harry's hangdog expression.

"I wouldn't laugh, Miss Celeste. As a resident of this castle, you're not exempt from punishment."

Celeste muttered, "Hardarse."

"What was that?"

"Nothing."

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

The following afternoon, Harry made his way to the Chamber of Secrets after classes were finished.

Dumbledore had announced at breakfast that Professor Quirrell had disappeared. For the time being, he would teach Defence Against the Dark Arts whilst he searched for another professor. Rumours spread quickly through the Great Hall as students speculated about what might have happened to their missing professor.

Harry had taken his friends aside afterwards, explaining what had occurred the previous night. Since they had initially joined the investigation, he didn't want to hide it from them. They had been upset he hadn't brought them along, but he managed to convince them he was only planning to see where the tunnel led and wasn't expecting events to unfold as they did.

Hermione had agreed to look up information on Hags and the creature Harry had mentioned. That was, as long as he promised not to hide anything from her again.

Harry activated Gate Walker and chose Potter Isle as his destination. They materialised at the location where the gate used to stand. The corruption still scarred the area, but now that the gate was gone, it should heal quickly.

He was about to grab his broom from his inventory when a bizarre sight caught his attention. One of the Griever females circled above, but something clung to her back—a small figure too distant to identify clearly.

The Griever spotted him and roared in greeting, banking sharply to land nearby. The creature on her back tumbled off, rolling twice before springing upright.

Harry stared. The being stood no taller than his knee, with earth-brown skin and wild hair that stuck out in all directions. Tattered clothes hung loosely on its thin frame, and its large eyes took up much of its face. It reminded him of a house-elf.

"Hello," Harry said cautiously. "Who are you?"

The creature bowed low, sweeping one arm across its chest. "Greetings, Island Lord. I'm Cecil."

"I haven't seen you on the island before."

"We only arrived yesterday."

"How?” Celeste asked. “The barrier should have prevented you from reaching the island."

Cecil pointed at the Griever. "We rode on the beastie's back."

Harry absorbed this information. The Grievers could pass through the barrier because he had adjusted the wards. But he hadn't considered that passengers might share that immunity. A vulnerability he should have anticipated.

"That explains how you got here," Harry said. "But why are you here?"

Cecil's expression grew rueful. "The beasties kidnapped us from a nearby island. We didn't understand why at first, but I think they want us to work here."

Celeste snorted with laughter whilst Harry stared at the Griever in disbelief. "Would you like to explain yourself?"

The massive feline leaned forward and licked his face with her tongue.

Harry wiped saliva from his cheek. "Right. Asking you is pointless."

He turned back to Cecil. "I apologise for their behaviour. I'll have them return you to your island immediately."

"Oh no!" Cecil waved both hands frantically. "None of us are upset. Our island is barren—we were starving to death. We've no complaints about being kidnapped. There is plenty of food here to fill our bellies."

"What are you exactly? I thought you might be a house-elf."

Cecil tilted his head. "What's a house-elf?"

Harry explained the magical servants bound to wizarding families, watching Cecil's expression grow increasingly horrified.

"They may have been Brownies in the past," Cecil said when Harry finished, "but it looks like wizards corrupted them. We would never be so subservient. We exchange work for food and shelter."

"I see. How long have you been stuck on your island?"

"We've always lived there, scraping out a living."

"Is it hidden from non-magicals?"

Cecil shook his head. "No, but they've no reason to visit. It's barren, with hardly any wildlife or foliage. When they do come, we hide."

Celeste hovered between them. "So you want to stay here? How many are you?"

"Twenty-seven. Six are only little ones."

Harry considered this. "I'm not opposed to you staying. What skills do you have? Can you use magic?"

"Yes, though not powerful. We can transfigure small objects and cast simple charms."

"Can you apparate? Teleport from one place to another?"

"No, we can't do that. But we're good with our hands. If you need farming or building work, we learn quickly."

Harry and Celeste exchanged glances. The same thought had occurred to both—they might have found the solution to restoring the settlement. The sooner that happened, the sooner Celeste could complete her quest and hatch the new Umbra Fairies.

"I do have something that needs repair," Harry said. "It won't be easy, but I can pay you a fair wage. Tell me what you need."

Cecil shook his head vigorously. "We don't accept payment. Only gifts for our work."

Harry frowned, unsure of the difference, but chose not to argue. "Let's meet the others so we can discuss plans. I don't know much about your people—if something offends you, speak up."

Cecil grinned. "We're not shy about voicing our displeasure."

Something in Cecil's tone made Harry blink. Why did that sound vaguely ominous?

He summoned his broom, and Cecil climbed onto the Griever's back. The Brownie led them to a spot at the base of the fairy tree. 

A small camp had sprouted among the massive roots. Crude tents constructed from gathered materials dotted the area, whilst Dusk Fairies flitted between them, playing with Brownie children who giggled and chased them.

Harry noticed changes in the tree itself. Its roots had burrowed deep into the soil, and the bark no longer looked dead and brittle. Flowers bloomed on several branches—small buds of colour against dark wood. The tree was not fully recovered yet, but this environment was clearly helping it.

The Brownies gathered as they landed, chattering to Cecil in their strange, musical language. All appeared thin, their clothes patched and worn. Cecil seemed to be their spokesman, but when he pushed a female forward, Harry sensed a different dynamic.

"This is my wife, Ursula," Cecil said.

She bowed. "Hello, Island Lord."

"Why do you call me that? Harry is fine."

The Brownies nodded, accepting the change without question.

"Cecil tells me you'd like to stay here," Harry continued. "I've no problem with that. He mentioned you're hard workers. I have a project requiring help."

Ursula's eyes sharpened. "What is it?"

Harry pointed upward. "There's a settlement atop the tree, but it suffered extensive damage. I need you to rebuild it entirely. You could even live there once the huts are restored."

"What gifts will you provide?"

Celeste snickered. "Mercenary little things, aren't they?"

"Whatever you need," Harry said. "Tools and materials, obviously. But if you want specific foods or other items, I can acquire them."

Ursula nodded. "We'll make a list. Meanwhile, we can start clearing debris from the settlement. There might be salvageable materials."

Harry realised his mistake—Ursula was clearly in charge, or at least handled practical matters.

"One restriction," he said. "There's a chamber within the tree that's off-limits. It contains valuables belonging to Celeste."

"May we use the beasties to reach the tree?"

"As long as they agree."

Cecil shifted uncomfortably. "You might need to solve their problem first. The beasties are separated into two groups, and they don't like each other. They're fighting over food—there isn't enough meat to sustain them all."

Harry sighed. "Leave it to me. I returned for this very reason. Have you seen dragons around?"

"Yes, but they stay near their caves. They don't want to get involved in the beasties' fighting."

"I wonder if the dragons would speak with me. Do they understand human language?"

Celeste shrugged. "They're intelligent enough, but have they encountered humans before?"

"A worry for later. If we solve the food issue, the rest should follow."

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Harry stood between Brutus and the other alpha—a magnificent beast he'd mentally dubbed Ares. Both Grievers growled low in their throats, only Harry's presence preventing violence. Their respective prides flanked them, muscles tensed for battle.

"Stop fighting," Harry commanded. "I know you're worried about food, but I'll solve that. I'll bring livestock to ensure plenty of meat. If you want separate territories, choose different areas."

The growling ceased. Both alphas focused on him with intelligent eyes.

"In exchange, help the Brownies with the settlement. Since you brought them here, ensure they settle properly."

Both alphas roared in agreement.

"How far did you fly to find them?"

Brutus looked away. If a Griever could appear sheepish, he was witnessing it.

"It's fine, as long as you weren't seen. Any other stray refugees I should know about?"

Both Grievers shook their heads.

Harry returned to the Brownies and pulled out his notebook. Their requests proved simple: honey, fruits, fabrics, farming tools, seeds, and toys for the children.

Combined with livestock and other supplies, he faced a substantial shopping list. Pierre would know where to acquire everything discreetly. It looked like he was making another trip to France. 

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

The following Saturday, Harry stood on the beach, watching as the ship steered into the port. The Brownies clustered beside him, bouncing on their toes with anticipation. Pierre manned the controls, bringing the vessel laden with supplies and livestock that Harry had ordered from France. The man had rented the ship to transport everything.

Harry had asked the Brownies to construct a dock; otherwise, bringing the ship in and unloading would have been impossible. The wooden structure jutted into deeper water, sturdy enough to handle the vessel's weight.

When Harry had appeared at the Delacour mansion several days earlier, the family hadn't questioned why or how he'd arrived. They'd listened to his request and agreed to help. He'd asked them to keep the arrangement secret from Fleur for now—he didn't know how to explain Potter Isle to his friends yet, or how he got around so easily.

The purchases had cost all the pounds Harry had accumulated, plus a portion of gold from his vault. But he didn't mind. Earning money was straightforward enough, and his earnings would only increase as he tackled higher-level dungeons.

The ship bumped against the dock with a solid thud. Brownies surged forward, their small forms scrambling aboard with impressive efficiency. Pierre stepped onto the wooden planks, stretching his back.

"Bonjour, Harry," he called out. "Quite the shopping list you gave me."

"I appreciate you handling this, Pierre,” Harry said. “I know it wasn't easy to arrange."

The older man waved dismissively. "Non, it was nothing. You can repay me by looking after Fleur at Hogwarts. I know it can’t be easy for her to transfer to a new school.”

“Sure.”

They worked alongside the Brownies, unloading crates of tools, sacks of seeds, bolts of fabric, and various foodstuffs. The livestock required more careful handling—sheep, goats, and cows that would provide the Grievers with a steady food supply. 

Once everything sat safely on shore and the livestock had been led deeper into the island, Cecil approached Harry.

"We discovered something whilst exploring the forest," he said. “I forgot to tell you earlier.”

"What is it?"

"An underground spring, but the water is unusual. Magic runs through it. I've never seen anything like it, so I kept the others away until you returned."

Harry's eyebrows rose. "Show me where it is. Have you seen Celeste?"

"She's with the other fairies."

"I'll leave her be. Let's go."

Harry pulled out his broom whilst Cecil clambered up in front of him. Following the Brownie's directions, they flew northwest toward a section of forest Harry hadn't thoroughly explored yet. They landed in a small clearing.

Cecil led him through dense undergrowth until they reached a hole in the ground, partially concealed by thick roots that twisted around its edges.

The opening was narrow. Harry had to squeeze through, grimacing as damp earth stained his robes. He summoned Magelight, the blue glow revealing a tunnel that descended at a gradual slope, widening as it went deeper.

Harry followed Cecil, water seeping through his clothes as the tunnel floor grew increasingly sodden. After several minutes, the tunnel opened into a small cavern. 

Harry's breath caught. A pond of crystalline water dominated the space, its surface shimmering with an inner radiance. Luminescent moss clung to the ceiling whilst creeper plants wound around the walls.

Harry approached the water's edge. He tried casting Appraisal on the pond, but received no response. Getting an idea, he pulled an empty potion vial from his inventory and carefully scooped up some of the liquid.

This time, Appraisal worked.

======Elemental Spring Water | Rare | Golem Material | Quality: Pristine

Description: A rare magical substance infused with pure elemental energy. When used in golem construction, it grants enhanced magical conductivity and increased durability. The water maintains its properties indefinitely when properly stored. ======

Harry's thoughts whirled as the possibilities unfolded. He'd been planning to unlock the ability to create a water golem, and he'd stumbled upon the perfect material. Grove had proven invaluable during the dungeon raids, but he wanted to see what the other golems could do for him.

He opened his character menu, navigating to the Elemental Golems Path. He spent three points to unlock the Water Attunement skill.

======Water Attunement | Passive | Level 1 | Upgrade: (0/5) | Attribute: INT/SPI Description: Grants the ability to create and control water-based golems. Water golems possess high mobility and defensive capabilities, able to shift between solid and liquid states during combat. They excel at crowd control, using their fluid nature to adapt to different tactical situations.

*Unlocks water golem construction using suitable liquid materials.

*Water golems can alternate between solid and liquid forms at will.

*+25% Agility for water golems in aquatic environments.

*+10% chance for a water golem’s attacks to bypass defence.

*+10% chance for a water golem to absorb attacks as HP.

*INT > 50: Water golems can split into multiple smaller units.

*SPI > 60: Water golems gain self-repair abilities when near water sources.

*Upgrades to level 2 after successfully creating 5 water golems. ======

"This is my lucky day," he murmured.

With this discovery, he could build another golem companion. But that was only the beginning. He'd decided to focus heavily on the golem path to improve his survivability and efficiency. More golems meant faster experience gain, which meant completing England's remaining dungeons in record time. 

He had to invest more points in the Golem Crafting Mastery Path to summon more than two golems at once. That way, he could combine different golems freely and create the perfect golem team.

Cecil watched him work with curious eyes. "Is the water valuable?"

"Extremely." Harry capped the final vial, storing them carefully in his inventory. "You've made an excellent discovery, Cecil.”

He pocketed the vial samples and followed Cecil back through the tunnel. Pierre would be wondering about his absence, and the Brownies still had supplies to organise. But his mind was already working on designing the perfect water golem.

So, what do you think? In the next chapter, Harry finishes his new golem and follows the trail of Frankenstein's monster.

Thanks for reading.