I became Voldemort

Chapter 182: Refuse to Die (II)

It wouldn't live much longer.

Its eyes were as cloudy as unmixed lotus root starch, obstructing its vision.

"They've probably had it for a long time, unwilling to sell it," Newt quickly walked to the dragon's side and placed a hand on its cheek.

"Grr..r.." The dragon only lifted its eyelids slightly before closing them again, seemingly exhausted.

This was a common situation.

Selling a dragon directly was not only unprofitable but also troublesome, especially since the British magical community banned private dragon ownership. Few were willing to take the risk.

Given this, it was more lucrative to extract its blood, sell it on the black market, and once the dragon died, strip its skin, break its bones, extract the marrow, and grind every scale into powder. This way, the profit wouldn't be any less.

Newt's face was filled with sorrow, his heart torn between anger and sympathy.

He had seen such things too many times.

Cyrus, on the other hand, didn't feel as sentimental. In the end, as long as life exists, it must plunder. If a dragon had the chance, it wouldn't hesitate to bite off a wizard's head.

He wasn't as empathetic as Newt.

Humans, in their pursuit of a better life, harm even their own kind, let alone animals.

"G..Grr.."

Under Newt's gentle touch, the dragon let out a mournful cry, as if lamenting its fate.

"He won't live much longer."

"Not necessarily, Mr. Scamander." Cyrus slowly walked over to him, or rather to the dragon's side, and squatted down.

Newt watched him, filled with curiosity.

Under his gaze, Cyrus reached out and pulled the tube from the dragon's wound. The rough tube was withdrawn from the dragon's body, and blood gushed out like a flood breaking through a dam!

"RooooAArr!!"

The dragon's numb body seemed to feel pain once again, its gaze clearing slightly as it rolled and thrashed within the narrow cage.

It was like a final burst of strength before death.

"(Ancient Magic) Swift Healing."

Cyrus raised his wand. In theory, a wizard's spell could accomplish anything that a potion could, but that was only in theory. Otherwise, the study of potions wouldn't be necessary.

Many spells could only be realized by truly powerful wizards!

Especially now, Cyrus's healing spell worked as effectively as Essence of Dittany, immediately showing results. The dragon's wound seemed to rewind in time, with decayed flesh revitalizing and fresh tissue growing. In the blink of an eye, the wound was completely healed!

Newt's eyes sparkled, but they soon dimmed again.

"Even if the wound heals, it won't save this dragon's life."

The prolonged bloodletting had drained the dragon's vitality. Even if its body were healed, its life was at an end, resulting in nothing more than a "healthy" corpse.

It wasn't just the dragon; there were nearly a hundred different magical creatures here, with a third of them already at death's door.

However, Cyrus lifted his chin slightly.

"You are wrong, Mr. Scamander. Heh~ Without my permission, how can it die on its own?"

Under the astonished gazes of Newt and Tina, Cyrus used his wand to cut open his palm. The crimson blood, like flowing red crystal, dripped onto the dragon's lips and teeth, instantly emanating a strong life force!

At that moment, Cyrus felt his heart pounding violently in his chest, like a well-oiled machine!

The dragon tasted the blood, and its eyes seemed to clear up.

"??"

It staggered a bit, then managed to stand up. Though still shaky, it had evidently passed the most critical point.

"H-How is this possible?" Tina's eyes widened in disbelief. Even for wizards, this was a fantastical event. "How can a dead dragon be revived?"

Newt looked equally astonished, wondering if the blood in this young wizard's body was some sort of elixir of immortality.

Or was he simply a phoenix in human form?

Yet even phoenix tears could only heal wounds and cure poisons; how could they restore a dragon that had lost so much life force?

Cyrus didn't offer much explanation for this.

He couldn't bring something already dead back to life, but pulling a life that hasn't yet died from the brink of death was still within his capabilities.

Cyrus closed his hand, and the wound on his palm had already begun to heal.

The dragon hadn't fully recovered its vitality, but there was no need for Cyrus to do anything further. Once out of danger, with time and care, the lost life force would naturally be replenished.

"Grr~"

The dragon looked at Cyrus and made a friendly sound, its long head stretching out of the cage to nuzzle affectionately against Cyrus's pants leg.

Newt's gaze toward Cyrus was filled with intense curiosity.

"How did you do that?"

He eagerly inquired, his eyes fixed on Cyrus's palm as if trying to discern the twelve uses of Cyrus's blood.

Cyrus could have ignored the life or death of a dragon, but saving it was a means to strengthen his relationship with Newt. While Cyrus didn't highly regard Newt's personal abilities, the magical creatures Newt carried with him were indeed of interest.

"You can save them!" Newt said excitedly, but then he quickly realized it might not be so simple. Too much blood loss would kill a dragon, let alone a human.

"Ehm* Are you alright?"

"A small amount of blood loss doesn't have much impact," Cyrus said softly.

Actually, it wouldn't have any impact at all.

The magical power of the Philosopher's Stone was more than this; recovering this small amount of blood was just a matter of a breath. However, Cyrus didn't want Newt constantly asking him for blood.

Next, they temporarily treated the remaining magical creatures, and then Cyrus stored them all in his suitcase.

He had transformed his suitcase into an ornament with a spell, which he always wore on his wrist.

Newt didn't mind this at all; he just hoped these creatures could live freely and no longer be harmed.

Over the years, Newt had rescued countless magical creatures, but very few stayed with him. Otherwise, even with his suitcase, he couldn't have held such a vast number.

Cyrus had a similar plan. He didn't intend to keep too many of the same kind of magical creature. He planned to study the bloodline magic of magical creatures but didn't intend to conduct cruel magical experiments on them, so he didn't need many samples.

"Tina and I plan to take these people to the Ministry of Magic and hand them over to the Aurors. I think you can go to Dorset later; we can chat, and also provide better treatment for these little ones!" Newt said with an excited smile.

Newt was really very enthusiastic right now.

Cyrus's behavior and actions had dispelled the bad impression Newt initially had because of the warrant.

For someone like Newt, anyone who loved magical creatures was already very likable.

How could such a person have any bad intentions?

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