There was a lot of new information to digest from my in-simulation battle experience. I only survived my last encounter through dumb luck. If I didn't take the opportunity to refine my skills more before trying again, I'd probably die next time.

The first order of business should've been to figure out a long-range attack. However, after some thought, I realized that just to be safe, I should consult Gilda before I messed around with anything that might pierce the hull of her spaceship.

So instead, I first focused on the mystery of the monster's horns. I already knew that the current version of my impact absorption magic was inadequate, even in my fights with the horned rabbits. And I couldn't help but notice that both the rabbit's and the Thunder Head's horns were way more durable than my body or, for that matter, even theirs.

That was very mysterious to me, given the destructive power of magic.

My first instinct was to chalk it up to horns being much harder. However, that didn't actually make sense. The higher the hardness of a material, the more brittle it would become. Exert enough force, and it would shatter. This was why weapons that flex and spring back into shape were usually considered better. Hard was good but durable was better for combat.

So, what exactly made something resilient against magic?

Since she was my teacher, I was trying to take what Gilda said to heart and look past the surface to question my presuppositions. To do that, I needed better information than my half-baked common sense. To that end, I spent time educating myself more deeply on the physical properties of monster parts.

Horns have two main components: The bone core and the keratin sheath. It seemed logical to assume the Thunder Head wasn't strengthening his bones with magic. Otherwise, the spear tip would not have penetrated his skull so easily. So, using the process of elimination left the keratin sheath as the main suspect for magical augmentation.

Keratin was the principal component of several critical parts of many animals. Hair, nails, scales, beaks, feathers, horns, claws, hooves, shells, and even spider silk were made from keratin. I learned humans also have fifty-four functional keratin genes. But humans generally didn't rely on their keratin assets for survival, like other creatures, since we used tools for those purposes instead.

If monsters evolved these physical characteristics alongside innate magic capabilities, perhaps they instinctively embedded mana into their natural weapons and armor, often made of keratin. Or it could also be that mana itself simply had an affinity for keratin.

If so, I could expect the main magical feature of monsters to be some mana-based enhancement of the unique keratin feature of that species. For instance, with an eagle-type monster, the enhancement might be in the form of magically enhanced feathers, beaks, or talons. It would also explain why dragons had a reputation of being among the most invulnerable of magical creatures. They were completely coated in the most durable form of keratin, beta-keratin, by way of their scales.

In addition, if my theory held true, it also meant that it was a solid strategy to attack the non-keratin body parts of a monster, if possible.

It was an interesting theory, but if it were true, I needed some way to make it practically useful for my own protection.

Keratin was found in human skin and was the reason for calluses being tougher than healthy skin. Still, I didn't want to coat myself in scales or calluses to make myself more resilient... at least not unless I had no other alternative.

Then again, maybe I was thinking about this too literally. It could've been even simpler than that. These keratin structures were organic and part of living beings. However, in their protective form, they were already dead cells. Perhaps there was some advantage to magically enhancing dead organic cells versus living organic cells.

I tried to put this theory to the test by plucking a hair from my head and letting some mana flow into it. When I tried cutting it with my trusty pocketknife, I couldn't cut through it, and the blade's edge became dull.

So, was that specifically the keratin, or was that the fact that it was made up of dead organic cells?

If mana had some unique affinity for dead organic cells, then the weirder monster types, like undead skeletons and zombies, were way easier to wrap my head around.

Still, it was too early to come to any firm conclusions yet.

I turned my attention to my fingernails. I already knew from seeing my aura that mana was constantly flowing through my body, almost like blood. However, I never really paid attention to how it looked at my fingernails. When I used aura reading to look closely at my hands, I saw something surprising. For most of my body, the mana was flowing and swirling. But, at my calluses and especially in my fingernails, it stopped. In fact, when I made some mana flow into my fingernails, it appeared to stay there and build up. When I tried to scrape my fingernail, the knife couldn't make a scratch.

That didn't work on the fleshy parts of my body. I could make the mana flow into an area to temporarily supplement the durability, but it quickly dispersed on its own.

The skin contained a decent amount of keratin, but it didn't seem to hold a buildup of mana the way my fingernails or hair did. So, I was leaning towards the conclusion that dead organic cells could hold on to a static mana charge, unlike living organic cells.

I could now see why monster materials were used for armor and weapons. Mana might naturally build up in monster skin, horns, and scales, remaining stored there, adding extra durability to the material. With those, the creatures were already dead, so the materials would eventually wear out. But as long as those parts were still attached to a living monster, they would continually be renewed. If the mana automatically built up in the replenished structures, then they would remain at peak durability for the lifetime of the monster.

I'd been successful in letting my mana flow into a staff and spear, so I might be able to add my mana to other types of dead organic cells. What if I could enhance my clothes to be more durable with mana? Cotton and leather would both count as dead organic cells. Then it could theoretically be used as ultralight armor.

To get my mana to flow into the staff and spear, I used aura reading to see its mana frequency, then synced up my mana.

But, when I tried to use this same process on my clothes, I saw something strange. My clothes and hat didn't show any mana aura, but my boots, belt, and holster did. My first inclination was to figure that maybe leather had compatibility, but cotton didn't. However, that didn't explain why the leather hat had no mana aura. Then I realized my new hat and clothes were birthday gifts from Gilda and weren't actually from Earth.

After I pondered it a bit more, I decided to talk to Gilda.

When I came out of my room, I saw her sitting in the same place I had left her. She was lost in thought and looked kind of sad, but once she noticed me, she smiled and stood up.

"Willie, do you feel better?"

"Yeah. I've been thinking about some stuff, and I wanted to know if you still have my original clothes?"

"Yes, of course. Did you need those for something?"

"Yeah, I'd like to look at them for a minute if you don't mind."

With a nod, she removed my old clothes from one of the many storage panels hidden in the walls. When I used my aura reading skill on them, I could see a faint mana aura in all the organic parts.

Seeing that, I had enough information at that point to share my theories with Gilda.

"Gilda, where did you get these replacement clothes?"

"I generated them with the replicators. Just like all of the food and other items on the ship are made."

"Would you say the replicators create from an organic base material, like cotton, or something more synthetic?"

She seemed slightly puzzled by where the conversation was going as she answered, "Definitely synthetic. Everything is created from reservoirs of isolated atomic building blocks. Is that a problem?"

"No, it isn't a problem necessarily. I just needed to know because I'm testing a theory about how mana works."

After I explained my theory about dead organic cells being something like batteries for the mana of monsters, Gilda got a funny look on her face.

"That is very insightful of you, Willie. Our best scientists came to similar conclusions when researching mana. However, I'm not sure how that is related to your old clothes."

"Well, I can see mana as an aura, and by syncing my mana color up to another object's color, I can let my mana flow into them."

She was blinking as if she was a little stunned by what I had just said, "Did you say you can see mana? You never told me that..."

"Huh... Didn't I? I mean, must have..."

"No, you definitely never told me you could see mana. I've never heard of anybody or anything that can directly see mana. As far as I know, mana is considered visually undetectable except by its effects."

"Oh...I guess that's weird then."

At first, I worried I might've done something wrong because of how she reacted, "I wonder if this ability is some form of magical synesthesia. Highly skilled subjects commonly report sensing mana through extrasensory perception, so perhaps that unknown sense was converted to visual stimuli..."

However, her stunned face gradually shifted into an excited smile, "This is a truly wonderful discovery, Willie! Through an ability like that, magical research can be advanced by leaps and bounds!"