My Bugged System Made Me Too OP!

Chapter 122: Harvesting cores easily

The dark balls had entered without damage.

They had traveled with the wolves, dormant, producing nothing while the animals ran and felt the relief of escape — and then they had done that.

He turned to Kael.

The dragon was making circles in the air above the scene.

The circles were enthusiastic — tighter and faster than his usual composed gliding, his wings working with a frequency that communicated excitement in the same way his tail position communicated satisfaction.

He was practically vibrating with the energy of a creature that had done something it was extremely pleased with and needed some physical expression of that pleasure.

He completed two more circles.

Then he dropped.

He descended toward the four impaled wolves with the focused energy of someone moving toward something specific, his wings angling him into a controlled dive that leveled out just above the nearest corpse.

He landed on the black spike closest to the wolf’s chest, which held his weight without any indication that it would do otherwise, and looked at what was in front of him with an expression that combined satisfaction and interest in roughly equal measure.

His golden horns tilted slightly as he examined the wolf, his tail wagging in excitement.

His gaze dropped from the wolf’s body to the ground beneath it, where the blood had spread in a dark and irregular shape across the forest floor.

Within it, two orbs.

Fairly large, catching the dim forest light with the specific luminescence that beast cores carried — not bright exactly, but clearly different from ordinary objects.

Kael’s eyes went wide.

His wings snapped open from their resting position, his tail whipped once behind him with sharp enthusiasm, and he launched himself off the spike he had been standing on without any further deliberation.

The wolves still hanging on the black spikes received no further attention. They had served their purpose and were now useless to him.

He dove toward the orbs.

Before he reached them, the shadows beneath the two cores rippled.

Small dark circles opened under each one — the same portal quality as his spatial manipulation, but smaller, precise, sized exactly for what they were collecting.

The orbs sank into them without resistance, dropping through the shadow openings cleanly, and were gone.

Two new circles opened immediately.

They appeared on the ground directly in front of Noah’s feet, the smoky black edges forming and stabilizing in the same moment, and through each one an orb rose back into the visible world.

Kael arrived a moment later, having redirected his dive toward Noah’s position when the portal delivery completed.

He touched down beside the orbs and his tail resumed its movement immediately — a continuous, enthusiastic wagging that he appeared to have no interest in moderating.

"Two of those lowly lives had beast cores," he announced, looking up at Noah with the expression of someone delivering confirmed good news.

Noah nodded.

But his eyes weren’t on the cores. They were on Kael, moving between the dragon and the four wolves in the middle distance, the slight furrow in his brow carrying the specific quality of someone working through a mechanical question that the observable result hadn’t fully explained.

He had retrieved beast cores before.

It was not an elegant process.

The core formed inside the beast’s body in the region of densest mana accumulation — usually somewhere in the chest cavity — and accessing it meant accessing that location through whatever tissue and structure surrounded it.

Cutting through fur and skin and muscle, navigating to the right depth, extracting the core without damaging it.

Kael had produced two intact cores from inside living wolves at a distance, without touching either animal directly, without any cutting or tearing that Noah had observed, and had then teleported the cores to his feet through shadow portals.

The cores were clean.

He stared at them for a moment longer.

Kael, perched beside his retrieved prizes with his tail still moving, made a sound that was halfway between a chuckle and a purr.

"I already sensed their beast cores, master," he said, the explanation arriving with the casual ease of someone describing something they considered straightforward.

He tilted his head slightly toward the impaled wolves without looking at them directly. "And I simply ejected them using those spikes."

Noah nodded slowly, looking down at the two orbs on the ground.

They were dim brown in colour, and still stained with blood.

’He was able to accurately sense where their cores were,’ he thought, the observation settling with a weight that went past simple acknowledgment. ’And remove them just like that.’

He turned that over for a moment.

He hadn’t sensed the cores himself. Not because he had been distracted or because the engagement had demanded his attention elsewhere — he simply hadn’t.

The wolves’ bodies had been within range of his mana sense the entire time, and at no point during the fight had he registered the specific location of the cores within them.

He hadn’t been looking for them, but that was almost the point — Kael had found them without looking for them in any visible way.

The detection had been passive, automatic, running in the background while everything else was happening.

Noah was fairly confident he could have found the cores if he had tried.

He could have extended his mana sense deliberately, focused it, worked through the layers of biological material between the surface and the core’s location and eventually arrived at the right position.

It would have been possible. It would also have been a process — something that took directed effort and time and a degree of concentration.

Kael had done it the way Noah breathed.

Which meant the gap wasn’t really about capability in the absolute sense. It was about baseline — the starting point from which each of them operated. And that gap had a straightforward explanation that required no elaboration.

Kael was an ancient dragon.

Noah was a human.

Those weren’t equivalent categories, and they had never been equivalent categories, and no amount of system-accelerated development on Noah’s end changed the fundamental architecture of what each of them was at the level of raw construction.

A dragon’s senses — mana sensitivity, spatial awareness, the detection capabilities that operated below the threshold of conscious effort — were built on a foundation that human physiology simply didn’t replicate. It wasn’t a reflection of training or effort or talent. It was species.

Kael’s raw stats had been higher than Noah’s from the moment he hatched.

That was just true. Noah had accepted it without resentment early on, because resentment of a fact produced nothing useful and he had more productive things to do with his attention.

What it meant practically was that certain things Kael did effortlessly would cost Noah effort, and that was fine — they weren’t competing. They were the same side.

The mana sense was one of those things.

Natural for Kael. Developed for Noah. The difference in how they had each engaged with the wolves’ cores tonight illustrated that gap cleanly without requiring further demonstration.

He looked at the two cores still sitting on the ground, their internal glow steady and quiet in the dim forest light.

"Fine," he said.

He gestured toward them with a slight tilt of his head, the movement carrying permission without ceremony.

"Go on."

Kael looked at the cores. Then at Noah. Then back at the cores, his tail resuming its movement with a renewed enthusiasm that suggested the brief exchange had done nothing to reduce his eagerness and may have slightly increased it.

Noah watched him and said nothing further.

But underneath the composed exterior, two things were running simultaneously — curiosity and worry, present in roughly equal measure, each one informing the other in a way that produced a kind of alert attention rather than either pure anticipation or pure concern.

The curiosity was genuine and specific. He wanted to know what happened to Kael when he consumed a beast core. Whether the instinct that had directed him toward them was right about what they would produce.

Whether the growth Kael had sensed as a possibility would manifest immediately or over time, visibly or internally, dramatically or subtly.

A dragon eating beast cores wasn’t something the texts had addressed.

Which was the root of the worry.

He was operating without information, and operating without information in situations involving Kael was something he had learned to take seriously.

The dragon was not fragile — nothing about him suggested fragility — but unprecedented was its own category of risk, separate from the question of physical toughness.

If the cores interacted with Kael’s system in a way that was a negative, Noah had no reference point for what that would look like or what the appropriate response to it would be.

He still didn’t know enough about dragons.

Days of coexistence and observation had given him more than he had started with, but more than nothing wasn’t the same as sufficient.

Kael’s abilities kept revealing themselves in ways that surprised him.

His instincts kept producing behaviors that made sense in retrospect but hadn’t been predictable in advance. The architecture of what he was remained, in significant portions, unmapped.

And Noah was about to watch him eat two beast cores of unknown compatibility.

He kept his face neutral and his posture relaxed.

But his mana sense extended quietly outward, settling around Kael with a light and unobtrusive presence — not interfering, not broadcasting itself, just there, ready to register whatever happened when the dragon did what his instincts were pulling him toward.

He would pay close attention.

If something went wrong, he would rather know about it early than late.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​