It took a long time for the stroller to finally reach its destination.
Once the Wayne family reached the ground, their eyes were all fixed on a huge shadow in the distance.
"It's an Ukrainian Ironbelly," said Bogrod was walking at the front. "No thief dares to face it."
As you get a little closer, the form of the fire dragon becomes apparent.
Its body was enormous, yet it was tethered to the ground.
Perhaps due to being confined underground for too long, the scales on its body have become pale and loose.
Its eyes were cloudy pink, and both of its hind legs were shackled with heavy chains.
The thick chains were driven deep into the stone stakes in the ground, binding all the spiked giant wings.
Ordinary thieves can certainly be prevented from entering, but those who manage to break in are clearly not ordinary.
"We have a way to control it; it has developed a conditioned reflex to the clanging sound."
Before passing the dragon's guard, Bogrod took a small bell out of his pocket.
With just a gentle shake, it trembled with fear.
Vincent passed by, he glanced a few more times at the large face covered in terrible scars.
The taming process was cruel; even the most important eyes were blinded.
Driven by the pursuit of wealth, and through a brutal process of domestication, even the mighty fire dragon has become timid and cowardly, fearing a mere bell.
It lived a life worse than a dog, its long existence filled only with sorrow.
"Gu Gu— "
"I see."
Bogrod turned around in confusion. "Distinguished guest, could you possibly communicate with an owl?"
"More or less," Vincent replied casually.
Gu Gu just told him that the fire dragon guarding the vault can no longer see the world clearly and desperately wants someone to end its life.
"Gu Gu— "
"I will."
Bogrod stopped paying attention to their conversation.
Goblin are basically uninterested in anything other than treasure.
They wouldn't care who the Minister for Magic was, nor would they care where another Dark Lord had suddenly appeared.
Evelyn took Eric's slightly tense arm and shook her head at him.
This is not about sympathy or pity, but about understanding the cruelty of the Goblin.
Compared to House-elf, Vincent felt it was a real shame that the ancient wizards didn't go and conquer the Goblin.
The exceptional forging skills alone were enough to justify launching a large-scale war in that era.
Before arriving at Vault 7, he suddenly realized the change in his thinking.
If it were in the past, seeing a dragon living such a miserable life, one would surely have resented the injustice of the Wizarding World.
But now, he is contemplating the possibility of conquering the Goblin.
"We've arrived." Bogrod stood before a large door, also made of pure silver and iron.
The number 7 is inlaid with various gemstones.
Vincent snapped out of his reverie and inserted the key into the only small hole on the front.
The vault doors slowly opened to the left and right.
Despite its age, it doesn't feel congested at all.
Bogrod craned his neck, trying to see what was inside the dark space.
As long as he wants to remain in Gringotts, he cannot enter any of the vaults of any being's owner.
From the outside, it looks completely dark inside.
But once you step inside, you'll find a soft, warm light.
The vault is very large, almost half the size of the Hogwarts Great Hall.
Vincent went to the source of the light and found it to be an Alchemical Item that could be used for permanent lighting.
Based on the style and slightly rough lines, he determined that this was a very early work by Nicolas Flamel.
"This place must have a history of more than six hundred years."
The walls of the vault are decorated with Renaissance frescoes, all of which have been enchanted with permanent Protective Charm.
These few walls, whose authorship is not readily apparent, may be more valuable than the antiques treasured by the Malfoy family.
Evelyn stared at the flowing Mithril piled up like a small mountain in the middle, and subconsciously pinched Eric's arm next to her.
"Ouch—what are you doing?"
"I'm trying to figure out if I'm dreaming."
"Then you should pinch him—" Eric quickly shut his mouth.
As a proper gentleman, he shouldn't argue with ladies too much.
Besides, this woman was his wife.
Evelyn smiled and let go of his hand, then placed it back on Gu Gu, who looked completely bewildered.
"Mom and Dad, come quick and see what this is!"
Vincent stood in front of an exquisite metal box, holding several pieces of silver jewelry in his hands.
"They come in many forms and don't look like Mithril at all."
If he hadn't been exposed to them so often, he would have thought they were all cheap goods from the Renaissance era.
"It must be your teacher's failed work." Evelyn could tell from the texture that the maker's immature technique was lacking.
Eric leaned closer for a look, a knowing smile spreading across his face. "I never imagined that your legendary Alchemists teacher would use such methods to woo girls when he was young."
Vincent and Evelyn had to hold them almost in front of their eyes to make out the love messages between the irregular lines.
It's so cheesy, it instantly gives me goosebumps.
"Teacher—never mind, I'd rather not learn from him."
Eric shook his head. "Listen to me, kid. No matter what age a girl is, what she values most is your sincerity."
Their senses are incredibly acute; once they sense you no longer care about them, it's often the beginning of their heart breaking.
"Wow—Dad, you're so experienced!" Vincent pretended to understand and continued searching.
He knows how to create romance.
Evelyn didn't understand.
"Honey, you told me that the night you graduated from Eton, you took the subway to sign up for the army."
"Yes—yes." Eric mustered his courage. "When I was still in school, there was a playboy in my class."
These—all of this, he said.
Vincent, who put on the ring, had seen his parents' story while he was near death.
If the footage is all real, then Eric is indeed that playboy.
He started school at 12, had his first love at 13, dated three girls at the same time at 14, and at 15...
Unfortunately, time waits for no one, and he eventually became the very thing he once hated most.
The Gu Gu, which neither understood nor could read, landed in front of Vincent.
"Gu Gu?"
"Oh, they're always like that."
"Gu Gu!"
"You mean this?" He took off the ring and examined it inside and out several times.
Without any cheesy love quotes, it seems to be the earliest work.
"I'll make you an even better one when we get back."
Given Voldemort's petty nature, he would definitely come looking for him if he returned.
Before you can build your own power, you need to be armed to the teeth, or at least have the ability to protect yourself.
As he was pondering what understated accessories to get, he unexpectedly caught sight of a robe of unknown material.
Black with a slight metallic sheen.
After carefully examining it inside and out several times, he concluded that it was Mithril woven material.
It's not difficult to shape a robe with magic, but it's much more difficult to shape silk threads with magic and then weave them one by one into a robe.
To reach that level, even the most talented person would need to dedicate themselves to studying for eight to ten years.