Amid the rhythmic clatter of wheels rolling over tracks, powered by magically enhanced steam engines, the Hogwarts Express thundered forward.
Inside one of the compartments, Orsaga casually pulled out a newly purchased book from his luggage, right in front of Penelope.
Basic Spell Compendium – 1985 Revised Edition
This wasn't a required textbook at Hogwarts.
But clearly, compared to those so-called biographies of famous wizards or dry magical history tomes, this book was far more useful to Orsaga.
According to the shop clerk who sold it to him, while the book only covered basic spells—not a single high-tier one—it was a comprehensive collection of practical, everyday magic. It even detailed pronunciation techniques and the sensations involved in spellcasting.
A solid book for beginners.
One that most young wizards could easily spend years studying.
Fire-Making Charm, Levitation Charm, Mending Charm…
After skimming it for a while, what began as a way to kill time gradually drew Orsaga's interest.
Though the power of these spells was modest, the principles behind them were—at least to someone as well-traveled as Orsaga—unusually advanced.
Some of them, despite consuming very little magical energy, involved highly sophisticated concepts such as conjuration from nothing, matter transmutation, and even temporal reversal.
Take the spell Serpensortia, for instance.
Its effect was the conjuring of a near-corporeal poisonous snake from thin air.
In many worlds, this would be considered a legendary-level spell, even if the snake itself were merely ordinary.
After all, creating a living creature from nothing is a feat worthy of myth.
And yet, in this world, even magic rookies who could barely control their own mana were able to cast it.
Not to mention that the incantation was so absurdly short it was practically nonexistent.
Then there was Reparo, a charm capable of instantly restoring objects to their original, undamaged state. This spell touched on temporal and conceptual laws that not even God in some realms could manipulate.
And yet here—it was taught as an entry-level spell.
'Something's not right about this world's magic. So much of it defies logic. It's too arbitrary—like a lazy world-builder made it all up on the spot without thinking it through…'
____
Back in the Abyss, Orsaga's true body idly raised a finger.
Serpensortia.
A surge of magical energy was consumed.
A snake, conjured from thin air, appeared in an instant.
Only to be incinerated the very next second by the searing heat of the stellar core where he resided.
Task complete, Orsaga gave a flap of his wings and shot out of the star.
Relying solely on solar absorption for power was just too slow.
As something that had been dragged into the Lava Wasteland from another plane by the demon lord Ignarok, Orsaga faced limitations.
Despite the vast number of stars in the sky above the Lava Wasteland, he couldn't just absorb them at will.
Much like the buildings in Ashkarath, the main city of the Lava Wasteland, those stars were considered Ignarok's property.
Their primary purpose was to act as energy sources for the five massive fireballs floating in the sky—the true sources of heat and light in the Lava Wasteland.
And so, to hasten his advancement, Orsaga needed to return to the time-honored tradition of mass slaughter to accumulate evolution points.
His targets? Any creature that crossed his path and wasn't stronger than him.
In these outer regions far from Ashkarath, there were no laws.
Pillaging and killing went completely unpunished—as long as you had the power to back it up, you could slaughter to your heart's content.
---
Back in the Harry Potter world, Orsaga's avatar lazily waved his wand and cast the same spell his main body had used moments before.
Serpensortia.
No incantation. No preparation.
And yet, before Penelope's stunned eyes, a three-meter-long black viper materialized out of pure magic.
It raised its head and locked eyes with its creator.
Before Penelope could even scream—
Orsaga's pet gyrfalcon moved.
Its sharp beak pierced straight through the snake's skull in a blur of motion.
A spray of bright red blood exploded across the compartment.
The stench of iron filled the air.
Orsaga didn't flinch. Calm as ever, he quietly calculated his magical expenditure.
'The same spell—my true body used 1,522 times more magical energy than this avatar. That confirms it. There's definitely something off about the magic system in this world. Most of these spells wouldn't even work in other realms.'
'So why would the Matrix purgatory designate this place as a 'training world'?. If purgators learn these spells and then can't cast them in other worlds, they'll just get slaughtered.
Unless… maybe the Matrix Purgatory has some kind of automatic adjustment system in place to compensate—like skill normalization…"
After thinking it over for a while, Orsaga decided not to dig too deep.
There may well be hidden truths behind it all.
But it wasn't his problem.
Worst case scenario, he'd just cherry-pick a few local spells that were at least reasonably functional and make do with those.
Having settled on that plan, he turned to look at his falcon, who was currently skinning and gutting the snake, leaving the floor slick with blood and gore.
With a flick of his wand:
Scourgify.
All the blood, bits, and filth vanished without a trace.
Only the cleaned, prepared snake corpse remained.
Seeing this, Penelope finally let out a sigh of relief.
She herself knew the Serpensortia spell, but she could only summon a one-meter-long snake—and even then, control wasn't guaranteed.
What Orsaga had just done—summoning a three-meter beast wordlessly—was something she had never even heard of.
She tugged at her skirt.
A moment ago, blood had splattered on it.
But now, thanks to his cleaning charm, it was spotless again.
With sincerity in her voice, Penelope said:
"I have a feeling you're going to be someone incredible one day. Maybe even admired by countless people."
Orsaga simply chuckled and replied,
"That sort of thing... means nothing to me."
From the moment he was born, he'd never cared about others' opinions.
Whether they hated or worshipped him—what difference did it make?
Hearing how genuinely indifferent he sounded, Penelope sighed,
"You're such a strange person…"
She simply couldn't understand his mindset.
To her, being admired by the masses was the ultimate life goal.
It was a reward reserved only for the truly successful.
To a thirteen- or fourteen-year-old girl who'd just begun to understand the world, that was the highest future she could imagine.
But Orsaga didn't offer any further explanation.
He simply smiled, unconcerned.