The air around the chained dragon pulsed with heat and pain. Each time the creature strained against its runed shackles, sparks of red-gold flame erupted from its nostrils, and the iron hissed like boiling water. Harry stepped closer, careful and silent, feeling the tremor of the beast's agony through the stone floor beneath his boots.
[Skill Activated: Soul Read – Lv. 5]
The world around him blurred.
For a single heartbeat, the sound of the sea faded — and then came a rush.
A storm of emotions slammed into his mind.
Anger.
Fear.
Shame.
The dragon's fury burned in his veins like molten fire. Its longing tore through him — the ache for the open sky, the roar of kin long lost, the pride of a creature born to rule the winds, now reduced to chains.
Harry gasped. He stumbled forward, his vision flashing between man and beast. His own thoughts bled into the dragon's — memories of injustice, of helplessness, of his vow to protect the oppressed.
And for a brief, terrifying moment… they were one.
[Empathic Link Formed]
[Shared Emotional Resonance Established]
Harry could feel its heart pounding as if it were his own. The heat of its lungs, the sting of the muzzle biting into scaled flesh, the humiliation of being paraded like property.
And through the connection, the dragon felt him too — his burning resolve, his guilt for every creature he couldn't save, and his quiet, unbreakable defiance.
The dragon's golden eyes fixed on him.
Recognition flickered there — not of a master, but of an equal.
Harry's lips moved, though the words were not entirely his own.
"I know your pain… and I will break your chains."
The dragon exhaled, a deep rumble that shook the air.
The empathy between them flared — a bond neither natural nor forced, forged in shared suffering.
[Temporary Link Established: Dragon's Will]
[Effect: Emotional Synchronization – Active]
[Duration: 30 Minutes]
Harry straightened, the last echoes of the link fading from his mind. His heart still raced in rhythm with the dragon's pulse. The creature looked at him one last time — not with rage, but with something almost like trust.
He glanced once toward the dark tents of the Midnight Auction in the distance, his jaw set.
"Hold on," he whispered. "Your freedom begins tonight."
The Soul-Link he'd forged moments ago still pulsed faintly in his chest; he could feel the creature's heartbeat hammering in rhythm with his own.
The iron shackles shimmered with layered enchantments, runes glowing sickly green across the dragon's neck, wings, and legs. Whoever forged those bindings had known what they were doing.
Harry drew his wand. The blackened handle gleamed faintly—Ares Blackfyre's wand, the Necromancer's relic, bound with thestral hair and blackwood.
[Item Equipped: Wand of Blackfyre]
[Origin: Legendary]
[Affinity: Death & Shadow]
He raised it toward the first shackle.
"Alohomora."
A soft click echoed… and then nothing. The lock remained sealed.
Harry exhaled through his nose. He had expected as much.
He'd spent weeks reading through the Standard Book of Spells, Grades 1-5. The spell was simple—but this was no common lock.
[System Notice]
Basic Unlocking Spell – Ineffective against Runic-Layered Seals.
Harry's eyes narrowed. Then we'll do this the hard way.
He steadied his stance, recalling Jason's lessons from Slytherin Castle—lessons of the curse-breakers, the art of unraveling magic woven by dangerous minds.
He traced the sigil shape in the air, slow and deliberate.
"Apertium Maxima!"
A surge of violet energy burst from the wand's tip. The magic struck the shackle, and every rune flared bright white before bursting apart. Metal screamed as bindings cracked.
One chain fell.
Then another.
Then all of them, snapping away with sharp metallic wails.
Finally, Harry turned his wand to the iron muzzle clamped over the dragon's jaws.
One final flick—"Apertium Maxima!"—and the muzzle shattered, scattering molten pieces across the stone floor.
The dragon reared back, shaking the last fragments from its body. It stretched its wings wide, the gust of wind nearly knocking Harry off his feet. For a heartbeat, he thought it would take flight—burn the camp, flee to the skies.
But instead… the creature bowed.
Its head lowered until its horns nearly touched the ground, golden eyes fixed on Harry. Through their lingering link, he felt its message—pride, freedom, gratitude.
And invitation.
Harry smiled faintly beneath his hood. He stepped forward, placing a gloved hand on the dragon's warm scales.
With one leap, he climbed onto the beast's back, the violet glow of shattered runes fading into the night behind him.
Above them, the clouds trembled.
Below, the Midnight Auction went on—unaware that vengeance had already awakened.
The dragon's wings unfurled with a crack like thunder. A shockwave rippled through the docks as it leapt skyward, the ground exploding beneath its claws.
Harry clung to the ridge of its neck, his cloak whipping violently in the wind.
"Bloody hell!" he shouted, half-laughing, half-screaming, as they shot upward into the clouds.
[Mount Status: Active — Young Dragon (Linked)]
Altitude: 400 ft… 800 ft… 1200 ft…
The world below shrank into a cluster of glowing tents and ships bobbing in the harbor's black water. For a brief moment Harry wondered where the dragon was taking him—until the beast arched its neck and dived.
Straight toward the Midnight Auction.
Harry's grin widened beneath his hood.
You already know what I want, he thought—and the dragon roared in answer.
It opened its jaws, and fire poured out like the breath of a god. The first ship went up instantly, a column of blue-gold flame tearing through its deck. Then another. And another. The harbor became an inferno, the night alight with burning sails and screaming sailors.
Below, the auction exploded into chaos. Wizards scrambled, shouting incantations, firing curses skyward. Some tried to shield the docks; others fled for their lives.
And then someone pointed upward.
"There! Someone's riding it! There's a man on the dragon!"
Harry heard the curses rise from the crowd—furious, terrified. He didn't care. The dragon banked sharply, its wings slicing through the smoke, and Harry lifted his wand.
[Skill: Fireball — Lv.11]
Fire coalesced around his hand, glowing bright crimson.
He flung the first orb down into a cluster of tents—where no magical creatures were kept. The explosion rolled like thunder, setting half the camp ablaze. Another fireball followed, and another, each one bursting in a perfect rhythm with the dragon's wingbeats.
From the air, Harry could see his men below—tiny silhouettes moving swiftly through the smoke, breaking cages and leading panicked creatures toward the treeline. The plan was working.
"Good," Harry muttered. "Get them out of here."
He raised his wand again, the reflection of fire glinting in his green eyes.
Below him, the auction of monsters had turned into a war zone.
The dragon roared again, triumphant, circling the burning harbor.
And on its back, cloaked in black flame and moonlight, rode Harry Potter—
the harbinger of chaos.
The dragon circled high above the harbor, roaring its fury into the night. Below, curses lit the air like fireworks as witches and wizards from across the world gathered their strength to retaliate.
[Warning: Hostile Spells Detected]
Danger Level: Extreme
Green flashes burst upward — the unmistakable light of killing curse streaked toward the sky. Harry felt the shift in the air before he even saw it. He gritted his teeth, clinging tighter to the dragon's scales.
"Now or never."
He raised his wand, channeling raw willpower through the air around them.
[Death Ward — Activated]
A dome of translucent black energy spreads outward, shielding caster and allies.
The first volley struck.
Dozens of spells — stunners, cutting hexes, explosive charms — slammed against the barrier in a storm of light and sound. The ward shimmered like glass, absorbing most of them.
But the killing curses… passed straight through.
Bolts of sickly green light hissed around him, close enough to singe his hair. One struck the dragon's wing but dissipated harmlessly off its enchanted scales. Still, Harry knew — standing still meant death.
He turned his gaze toward the camp below, where the guards were massing to defend their "clients," wands raised and ready. He could see the banners of foreign houses — the smugglers, traffickers, the international buyers who thought themselves untouchable.
"Let's even the field."
He let go.
Harry pushed off the dragon's back and dove straight through the storm of magic, wind tearing at his cloak.
[Wraith Flight — Lv.13]
Fall negated. Movement speed increased by 150% for 10 seconds.
He hit the ground like a shadow solidifying from mist, boots striking stone in perfect silence. All around him, the guards recoiled.
"Who the hell is that—?"
The nearest wizard didn't finish the sentence. Harry flicked his wrist — his wand moving faster than the eye could follow. A blast of wind knocked half the line backward.
He stepped forward, eyes burning with cold green light beneath his hood.
[Status Effect: Adrenal Surge — Active]
All stats temporarily increased by +10% for 60 seconds.
He could hear the dragon above — roaring, circling, raining fire upon the ships. But he didn't look up. The fight had come to him now.
"Defend your masters if you want," Harry muttered, raising his wand, "but tonight, you'll answer for your crimes."
And with that, Lord Blackfyre walked into the storm of curses — alone, but unyielding.
The battlefield crackled with magic and madness. Spells streaked through the air, curses exploded in flashes of green and red. But when Harry raised his hand, the chaos froze for just a second — long enough for every wizard there to feel the shift.
[Skill Activated: Dementor Cloak — Max Power]
Your presence exudes despair. Enemy morale drops drastically. Weak-willed opponents may flee in terror.
The black fabric of the cloak rippled like living smoke. A cold wind swept across the camp, and every torch flickered out at once. The warmth of life seemed to vanish from the air itself.
The bravest of guards — men who had killed and tortured without remorse — stumbled backward as frost formed on their wands. A few screamed and ran, clutching their heads, the sheer pressure of his aura breaking their minds.
Then came the mist.
A thick, unnatural fog spread from Harry's hands, curling along the ground like a living serpent. It glowed faintly green under the moonlight. The first to breathe it in began to convulse. They fell wordlessly, foam bubbling at their lips, eyes rolling white.
[Skill: Poison Mist Attack — Lv.9]
Status Effect inflicted: Paralysis, Poisoned (Severe)
"Stay back!" someone shouted.
"He's a monster—!" another screamed before his voice choked out.
Harry moved.
Maybe it was because the wizards were too slow, or maybe he was simply that fast — but when he blurred forward, the air itself seemed to tear. Curses flashed around him, narrowly missing as he sidestepped with impossible grace.
[Skill: Wind Step — Lv.12]
Movement speed increased. Reaction time enhanced.
Moonlight spilled over him, and Harry could feel the pulse of his own magic rising, thundering in his veins.
[Passive Skill Triggered: Lunar Bond — Lv.2]
[Passive Skill Triggered: Moonlit Aura — Lv.2]
All Stats +25% under Moonlight.
He felt unstoppable. Every spell he cast burned brighter, faster, sharper.
A fireball burst from his wand, consuming a cluster of guards in orange flame.
[Fireball — Lv.11] → Direct Hit! (Critical Damage)
A bone spear erupted from his hand, impaling another wizard before he could finish his incantation.
[Bone Spear — Lv.8] → Piercing Bonus +30%
From above, the dragon roared — a wall of fire sweeping through the outer camps, scattering anyone who dared to regroup. The glow of its flame painted Harry's cloak in hellish gold.
When a barrage of hexes came toward him, Harry raised his arm.
[Water Shield — Lv.9]
The shimmering dome of liquid magic absorbed the impact, hissing like acid under the spells. Then, as the last bolt faded, Harry's voice cut through the battlefield like a whisper of death.
[Shadow Veil — Lv.10]
Visibility reduced. Enemy targeting accuracy -50%.
His figure dissolved into darkness.
The wizards fired wildly, panicking. The only sound left was the rush of wings above and the hiss of poison creeping closer through the grass.
[Status Update: 47 Hostiles Neutralized]
[Current Objective: Clear the Guard Perimeter — 80% Complete]
When the dragon roared again, the ground trembled — and Harry, Lord Blackfyre, stepped through the mist like a walking corpse.
Harry's vision blurred for a moment, his heartbeat loud in his ears. The air around him shimmered with heat and smoke.
[Warning: Low HP!]
[HP: 324 / 740]
[MP: 210 / 1400]
He had fought through waves of wizards—dozens fallen to poison, fire, and shadow—but every spell he cast took something from him. His magic core trembled, his limbs felt like lead, and his breathing grew shallow.
Still, it was victory. The bodies around him—some unconscious, others dead—were proof enough that he had done what he came for.
But victory came with a price.
A blinding light struck from behind, slamming into his back. The blast threw him off his feet, his body crashing into the ground hard enough to shatter the soil beneath him.
[Critical Hit Received!]
-114 HP
Status: Dazed (5s)
The world swayed as darkness flickered at the edge of his vision. His hands trembled as he pressed against the ground, trying to rise. His Death Ward flickered weakly, shattered by the impact.
And above the ringing in his ears… silence.
The connection. It was gone.
He could no longer feel the dragon's heartbeat echoing through his own. The bond between their souls had faded, leaving only a hollow ache in his chest. The skies above were empty now.
When he turned his head, he saw the one responsible.
A tall man with grey hair and crimson robes stood on a ridge of scorched earth, wand raised and eyes filled with cold arrogance. Ten men flanked him in perfect formation.
Harry blinked.
Then the name appeared before his eyes.
[Enemy Identified: Lord Celtigar]
Level: ???
Class: Warlock Lord
Affiliation: Midnight Syndicate
The wizard smiled like a serpent.
"So you're the little pest who burned my harbor."
Harry didn't answer. He barely had the strength to.
And then—movement in the distance.
On the far side of the docks, a ship began to move, its sails catching the moonlight. From the deck, Charles stood, raising a hand with a thumbs-up, his grin visible even from afar.
The rescued magical creatures were already onboard, safe and sailing away.
Harry's lips curved into a faint smile despite the pain.
Even if he fell here, the mission was complete.
[Quest Objective: Midnight Auction — Complete]
Reward Pending…
He tightened his grip on his wand, forcing himself upright, blood trickling down his chin.
"Looks like it's just you and me now," Harry whispered.
The wind howled through the burning harbor, and the fires reflected in Lord Celtigar's cold eyes as the final duel of the Midnight Auction began.