Stealing the Golden Cup

Chapter 384 Stealing the Golden Cup (6K) (2/2)

Sirius glanced at him, nodded, and turned to walk towards the heavy metal door.

He placed his hand on a less conspicuous recess on the inside of the door, symmetrical to the external keyhole—a mechanism opened from the inside by members of the Black family. He murmured a short, ancestral family incantation, a faint magical fluctuation flowing from his fingertips.

A much fainter, yet equally ancient, creaking sound came from inside the door than from the outside when it was opened.

The door quietly opened a crack.

Sirius opened the door and walked out sideways.

However, just as he turned to close the vault door, he saw that the spot where Lynch had stood a moment before was now completely empty. There was no figure, no trace of movement, not even the slightest disturbance in the air caused by his presence had vanished, as if the black-haired, black-eyed wizard had never existed there.

There was nothing behind him except for dust slowly floating and sinking in the halo of light.

"Lin Qi?" Sirius called out in a low voice instinctively.

"Keep going." Almost the instant his voice fell, a faint sound, so light it was like a hallucination, yet so clear it penetrated deep into his ear canal, rang out, as if someone was whispering in the air right behind his ear.

The voice was calm and devoid of any emotion; it belonged to Lin Qi.

Having received this response, Sirius no longer hesitated to pay his respects.

He walked up the steps with a normal expression and came to the pull handle waiting next to the cart.

"Is everything alright, Mr. Black?" Pull-Pull asked routinely, his gaze sweeping over Mr. Black's empty hands.

"Hmm," Sirius responded briefly, stepping onto the stroller.

Lynch stood silently in the shadows above the steps, as if he were part of the rock.

Watching the cart start and glide along the same track back towards the tunnel entrance, the lights quickly receded, casting the platform and steps back into deeper darkness. Only when the sound of wheels rubbing against the tracks completely disappeared at the end of the winding tunnel, and the eternal, low hum of the earth returned, did Lin Qi begin the next step of his operation.

He did not dispel the illusion spell; the disguise that blended seamlessly with the environment still tightly enveloped him.

Lynch began to "move".

Walking doesn't leave traces on the dusty ground; no matter how slight, they can become clues under the vigilant inspection of the fairies and certain detection spells. His feet didn't touch the cold stone ground, but rather hovered a few inches off the ground, walking silently in the air.

He stepped out of the area in front of Black's vault in near-absolute silence and into a more open passageway.

The light from the torches burning on the wall pierced through his illusory figure, casting no shadow on the ground.

The passageway stretched into the darkness, flanked by rows of equally heavy metal doors, each bearing a different coat of arms, spaced far apart, signifying the status and antiquity of their owners. This was the deepest part of the pure-blood family's vault, silent and cold, permeated with the stench of wealth and the decay of time.

His gaze swept calmly across the vault doors, searching for the specific number provided by Dumbledore.

As the passageway extended, the light grew dimmer, and some side corridors became even more secluded.

Finally, at the end of an exceptionally narrow side corridor, seemingly devoid of footprints, he found his target.

The door was smaller than the main vault, but its tightly closed design made it appear exceptionally sturdy. The door itself was made of matte, dark metal that almost completely absorbed light.

The key marker is on the right side of the door frame: 32—the very number he was looking for.

Below the serial number, there is a newer, slightly illegible engraving, which is an abbreviation of "BL", as if it was added later as a mark of ownership.

right here.

Lin Qi's gaze fell on the door—one of Voldemort's Horcruxes was hidden behind it.

The white wand in his hand was slowly raised, the tip of the wand not pointing at the door, but moving in the air in front of him with an extremely slow and subtle motion, as if sensing the invisible flow of water or magnetic field.

He closed his eyes, relying on magical perception instead of sight.

The shimmering white light at the tip of the wand fluctuated slightly, like breathing. He was probing the "magical density" and "structure" of the space ahead.

The first thing you sense is Gringotts' ancient protective magical network, like a huge and resilient root system, deeply embedded in the rock, enveloping every vault door.

This is the foundation, heavy, solid, and almost unshakeable, with the precision and inhuman feel unique to fairy magic.

Immediately afterwards, he "touched" another, sharper, and "older" magical veil layered on top of the basic protection. This was clearly an extra layer of protection erected by the Black family years ago, imbued with the characteristics of pure-blood magic—emphasizing bloodlines, exclusivity, and ancient oaths. It was like a cold, thorny metal net, tightly interwoven with Gringotts's defenses.

However, the outermost and most active layer was Bellatrix's later addition of personal protection. It was filled with the signature madness, paranoia, and malice of her personal magical style, with a multitude of dark magic curses and malicious trigger traps hidden beneath the first two layers of protection like a restless, corrosive slime.

The crux of the problem lies in the entanglement among these three elements.

They are not independent entities, but rather have influenced and nested with each other over a long period of time, forming a complex, holistic system. Bella's aggressive dark magic, together with the intricate structure of fairy magic and the ancient, discordant nature of family magic, has created a fragile dynamic balance.

Lynch's keen senses captured the nodes of the magic flow, the resonant points of mutual interference, and the irrational logical gaps that might be left by Bella's personal obsession.

About a minute later, he opened his eyes. His dark eyes showed no surprise, only a calm understanding and an almost indifferent assessment.

"The entanglement is slightly deeper than expected, especially the corruption of the basic structure by the dark magic," he pondered silently, "but the structure itself is not beyond the calculations. Bella's defenses—are hasty and full of flaws."

With the current situation confirmed, Lynch prepared to proceed as planned.

He no longer looked at the door, but instead turned his attention to the "foundation" beneath his feet, behind him, and even the entire surrounding space—the omnipresent Gringotts goblin protective magic network deeply embedded in the rock strata. His senses were like...

The most sensitive probe begins with the magical "roots" connected to the "Number 32" vault node in front of us, tracing upwards against the cold, precise, and inhuman flow of magic.

This wasn't about cracking the code, but rather "observation" and "identification." The fairy's magical network was like an upside-down giant tree, its canopy serving as the central hub on the surface, while countless roots stretched deep underground, connecting every vault. He was currently at the end of one of the thinner "roots."

His consciousness traveled upstream along this "root," bypassing the obstruction of rocks and passing through the faint disturbances of different natures emanating from other vault nodes—the "noise" brought about by the protective magic of different families.

In my perception, this "root" was not far ahead, merging with several other similar "roots" to form a thicker "branch" with a more stable flow of magic.

And the direction of this "branch" —

Lin Qi's figure moved.

He maintained his illusory form and levitation, like a gentle breeze in the darkness, flowing upstream along the invisible magical "branch" he perceived. He no longer traversed the tunnels prepared for "visitors," but instead stepped directly vertically up the rock wall, his footsteps landing on invisible magical staircases, silently ascending into the dark space above the vault area, a place usually untouched by anyone, filled only with rough rocks and crisscrossing pipes.

He ascended several hundred meters, until he was surrounded by absolute darkness and silence, save for the faint glow emanating from the magic stone in the distant vault below. He stopped, hovering in the air. Before him lay a solid rock wall, but in his...

In my perception, behind the rock wall, the robust and stable magical "branch" belonging to Gringotts' protective network was flowing smoothly past.

This "branch" is likely connected to an important transfer node, maintenance channel, or even an entrance to the fairy's work area at the upper level.

He hovered there, like an invisible nail driven into the darkness, carefully examining this "branch".

The magical properties, stability, and clarity of the connection path to the "Vault 32" below.

After confirming the magic network node above, Lynch did not linger.

He seemed to blend into the shadows of darkness, descending silently along an invisible path until he returned to the edge of the vast underground cavern, hidden behind a rock wall protrusion near the entrance to the side corridor leading to Bella's Vault.

His gaze fell on the center of the cave.

The Ukrainian iron-bellied fire dragon was still bound to the boulder by heavy chains, but upon close and still observation, its tragic situation was even more shocking.

Its massive body, which should have been covered in hard, gleaming scales like steel, was now peeling off in large swaths.

Its skin is dull, revealing rough skin underneath that is oddly colored, covered with old and new scars and obvious inflammation; in some places, it is even covered with thick, dirty scabs. Prolonged lack of sunlight and proper care has made its scales as fragile as weathered plaster.

What's most heartbreaking is its eyes.

Those dragon eyes, which should have burned with fierce rage and wildness, were now only a cloudy, almost invisible milky yellow, as if shrouded in a thick shadow. It was not completely blind, but it had only a very vague reaction to light, relying more on its hearing and smell to perceive its surroundings.

At this moment, its huge head rested listlessly on its front paws, and occasionally a small wisp of weak breath carrying the smell of sulfur and sparks escaped from its nostrils. From its throat came intermittent, muffled breaths that could barely be called gurgling sounds, and each breath aggravated the festering and inflamed wounds where the chains were embedded in its flesh.

Those black chains, thicker than an adult wizard's thigh, were tightly fastened to its neck and the base of its limbs. The long-term friction and pressure had worn through the dragon's skin, revealing the dark-colored muscles underneath. You could even see the teeth-grinding marks left by the friction between the chain links and the bones.

The other end of the chain was deeply anchored in the rock, restricting all its freedom of movement and allowing it to move only within this small space.

This is a colossal beast nearly driven to its death by long imprisonment, darkness, neglect, and possibly some kind of weakening magic.

Its former majesty and power have long been worn away, leaving only this broken shell that barely sustains life, existing numbly in the sunless underground as part of Gringotts' "security measures".

Maintaining his illusory form and levitation, Lin Qi silently left the shadow behind the rock wall, drifting towards the colossal creature in the center of the cave like a weightless feather. The breathtakingly large size difference between him and the fire dragon, under the current tranquility and concealment, created an eerie balance.

As the distance closed, the intense stench emanating from the dragon—a mixture of festering wounds, old blood, sulfur, and despair—became even clearer. Lynch's movement didn't stir up any air currents, but his very presence, or more precisely, the highly controlled yet still somewhat impenetrable magical field surrounding him, and the "outside" aura he might carry—aura unlike any other creature in Gringotts' underground—seemed to have stirred the beast's long-dormant senses.

It cannot be seen.

But its massive head, resting on its forepaws, lifted an inch, extremely slowly and almost imperceptibly. Its cloudy, milky-yellow eyes futilely turned toward the general direction where Lynch was hovering, their pupils unable to focus. Its nostrils, covered in scars and broken scales, began to flare slightly, each inhale deeper and longer, attempting to catch a glimpse of that faint, unfamiliar "abnormality" in the air thick with its own decaying stench and rock dust.

A barely audible, questioning gurgle escaped from deep within its throat; it was no longer a threat, but more like a dull, instinctive inquiry. The muscles at the base of its chained, scarred wings contracted with an extremely weak, almost spasmodic spasm, causing the heavy chains to creak with an almost inaudible metallic scraping sound, before collapsing limply.

It seemed to be trying to prop itself up, or at least adopt a wary posture, but its long-term muscle weakness and deep-seated...

The numbness in its bone marrow made it difficult to even perform such a movement. In the end, it could only let its huge claw unconsciously and weakly scratch the ground, stirring up some gravel and dust.

Before the dragon could react further, Lynch had already approached its massive head like a ghost. He held the milky-white wand in his right hand with a unique gesture—not the usual grip, but upside down, with the handle facing forward and the slender shaft pressed against his forearm, as if he were holding an icicle backwards.

His movements were steady and precise as he gently touched the rough, warm scale covered with tiny cracks between the dragon's eyebrows with the rounded end of his wand.

A faint, cool, moonlight-like, shimmering white halo quietly spread from the point of contact.

The fire dragon's agitation, which was about to intensify, suddenly stopped.

Its cloudy eyes seemed to freeze, its raised head stood still in mid-air, and even the uneasy gurgling in its throat stopped abruptly. It wasn't that it was being forcibly suppressed, but rather that a sudden, profound tranquility permeated its tormented nerves, temporarily calming the constant inner turmoil stemming from pain and confinement.

It became unusually quiet, as if it had fallen into a brief, painless dream.

"Poor thing," Lynch's voice was low and calm, sounding at such close range, yet as soft as a whisper to its scales, "your chance has come. Seize it, and gain your freedom."

Before he finished speaking, he flicked his wrist, and the wand was adjusted, its tip shimmering with a faint light replacing the handle, lightly touching...

Same location.

This time, it's no longer about appeasement, but about indoctrination and labeling.

The invisible flow of thought is not complex words, but the most primal and intense imagery and impulse that compresses the rock wall of the body, causing it to suddenly collapse! The crisp sound of chains breaking! Upward, ever upward, breaking through the darkness, the scorching wind sweeps across the broken wings, towards that unreachable sky, yet etched in the blood!

These pure thoughts of breaking free, bursting forth, and charging upwards were powerfully implanted deep into the dragon's sluggish consciousness. At the same time, a clear "mark," resonating with a unique magical energy, was imprinted on its perception like a lighthouse in the darkness—the very location Lynch had previously identified behind the rock wall above, a crucial node in Gringotts' protective network. This mark wasn't a concrete image, but rather a magical "attraction" and "target."

Having completed this step, Lynch slightly lifted the tip of his staff, then quickly drew an ancient and complex rune trajectory, leaving a brief, burning silver light trail in the air.

An invisible energy flowed into the dragon's body—this was the result of cutting-edge research from the Romanian Dragon Reserve, a magic that could deeply stimulate the dragon's life potential, similar to the effect of adrenaline on humans. It could greatly enhance its strength, speed, and reaction in a short period of time, at the cost of extreme weakness afterward. But for this weakened behemoth, it was like kindling to ignite the fire of freedom.

The magic took effect almost immediately.

The fire dragon's massive body shuddered violently!

The previous tranquility was shattered, replaced by a volcanic eruption of restlessness and power emanating from the depths of its bones. Though its cloudy eyes could not see, they were suddenly entwined with blood-red threads. Muscles bulged and throbbed beneath its withered scales, emitting a groaning sound of strain. It began to pant violently, each breath spewing forth large plumes of scorching sparks and thick smoke, the smell of sulfur instantly intensifying.

Just as the behemoth was on the verge of exploding and the chains were rattling, Lin Qi's figure flashed to the side of one of the main chains binding its forelimbs.

His gaze locked onto one of the links in the chain, the tip of his staff aimed, and he uttered a few strange syllables, filled with the dust of time. A dim, grayish-white beam of light, as if time itself had solidified, struck the link.

There was no loud noise, no sparks.

The incredibly hard metal surface was covered with a spiderweb of dark rust at an alarming speed. The texture seemed to become brittle and weathered in an instant, losing the metal's unique toughness and luster, as if it had been silently decaying in a damp underground for hundreds of years.

"roar!!!"

The accumulated violent power and burning desire for "freedom" and "upward" erupted completely under the stimulation of magic.

The fire dragon raised its head and let out a deafening roar filled with pain and rage, which shook the entire cave!

Its forelimbs, imbued with magic and brimming with brute force, suddenly thrashed upwards!

"Snap! Thud!!"

The lock ring, severely weakened by the spell of time, snapped first! Immediately, a chain reaction ensued, with the other chains bearing immense force groaning and either loosening at their anchor points in the rock face or deforming and breaking at their limits!

Pebbles flew everywhere, and dust filled the air.

The enormous shadow, accompanied by a suffocating heat and a roar of liberation, suddenly rose up, breaking free from the shackles that had bound it for countless years!

The moment the dragon broke free, Lynch had already drifted backward like a wisp of smoke, landing far away in the shadows at the edge of the cave, coldly watching the out-of-control, violent "flames" that were igniting in the direction he had predetermined.

The broken iron chains clattered and fell to the ground.

Having regained some freedom, the fire dragon, blind and frantic, roared toward the strongest "attraction" it sensed—the marked magical node above—and began to recklessly ram and scratch at the rock wall in that direction with its massive body and head, trying to open a path to "above".

The earth is shaking and the mountains are shaking.

The rock walls groaned under the furious impact of the fire dragon, and rubble rained down, the dull thuds and scraping of chains echoing through the cave in a chaotic roar.

The piercing Gringotts alarm, a magical shriek, echoed faintly from the depths of the rock like the scraping of metal, adding to the chaos.

Lynch seemed oblivious to the apocalyptic scene and sounds behind him.

While igniting the fire dragon and creating a huge commotion that could attract everyone's attention, his figure had already silently returned to the end of that narrow corridor, to the matte metal door engraved with "32".

He stood calmly at the door, as if he were merely a homeowner pausing briefly in front of his own warehouse. The surrounding tremors and the faint alarm seemed completely irrelevant to him; all his attention was focused on the door before him.

The wand is raised, the spell is on the tip of the tongue. Gringotts' magical defenses are extremely strong. This opportunity may only last for a breath or a heartbeat. If it is missed, it must be abandoned and another method must be sought.

He waited patiently.

After waiting for the upper rock layers, the magical "branch" node he had marked for the fire dragon appeared in the behemoth's blind...

Under violent impact, the expected disturbances, deviations, or even temporary fractures or overloads occur.

That node is a local hub of Gringotts' protective network in this area. Its instability will inevitably cause a chain reaction, like a stone thrown into a pond. The first thing affected will be the basic protective layer of the vaults below that are directly magically connected to it, especially the "general protection" parts that are most closely coupled to the network and are not attached by families or individuals.

A few seconds, or a dozen seconds.

Time passed precisely amidst the chaotic background noise.

Suddenly, in the magical vision, the fairy protective runes on the door, which always shone with a cold luster, flickered very slightly. The light dimmed and became disordered for less than a tenth of a second, like a local stress sensor of a dam malfunctioning, causing the water pressure regulation system in that area to briefly shut down, and the water wall thinned for a moment.