You've come at a good time

Before coming to the Dragon Sanctuary, Kyle thought the atmosphere here would be very tense.

When they arrived, they found the place surprisingly peaceful... There were no burning dragon flames, no roaring cries, and although one or two Dragon could be seen flying in the sky, there were only a couple.

Moreover, everyone around was chatting in small groups, making it look like a gathering of old friends.

Charlie didn't explain much, but simply patted Kyle on the shoulder and said meaningfully:

"If you had come a day earlier, you wouldn't have thought that way. You've just come at a good time."

Charlie took Kyle for a walk around the area for a while longer, and when he felt it was about time, they returned to the previous spot.

There were many more people here than before. Some of them looked similar to Charlie, with dark skin, around thirty years old, and wearing rough clothes and heavy boots. It was obvious that they were all dragon breeders.

The others were different; they wore all sorts of strange clothes and were older.

"They are all experts on Fantastic Beasts from various places."

Charlie whispered, "The person next to the dragon's saliva tree with the House-elf is Mrs. Rozinov of North America, and the only person in North America allowed to privately tame Dragon."

"And across from him, that bearded man, that's Mr. Kurt. He's the one who delivered all three of our dragons..."

"The one speaking to Mr. Scamander is Professor Locknir of Beauxbatons, whose Abraxan are quite famous throughout the Wizarding World..."

Charlie introduced each person in detail, while Kyle listened attentively and wrote down their names one by one.

There weren't many people; even including Newt, there were only twelve.

Charlie didn't mention their assistants, probably because he felt it wasn't necessary.

Simply put, the assistant doesn't deserve to be named; just being a familiar face is enough.

"I always thought you were all brawn and no brains," Kyle exclaimed. "I never imagined you knew so many people, even those as far away as North America... Dragon breeders do need to be cultured and knowledgeable."

"What kind of talk is that? What do you mean, 'all you think about is your muscles'!" Charlie said disapprovingly. "I have six NEWT certificates. I could become Auror if I wanted to."

"Okay, I guess I misspoke." Kyle shrugged noncommittally. "Let me put it another way: when you're raising Dragon, do you need to take the time to read about the works of those Fantastic Beasts experts?"

"Of course not," Charlie said. "Just taking care of dozens of Dragon here every day is tiring enough, not to mention dealing with those cunning poachers. I'd rather sleep for an hour than waste any extra time."

In fact, we finalized the list of invitees a month ago; all we need to do is familiarize them with their photos before they arrive."

That's correct.

Kyle remembered that Charlie's worst subject was the History of Magic, which was tested on memorization; normally, he wouldn't waste time memorizing so many names.

At noon, the Dragon Sanctuary prepared lunch for everyone.

Forget about refinement here; the eternal themes are primitiveness and ruggedness.

The freshly stewed bone-in meat is larger than a fist in size, and with minimal seasoning, it retains the original flavor of the Tebo Warthog... although this taste might be a bit too much for some people.

The rock-hard baked flatbreads are available in unlimited quantities and are incredibly filling; one piece can last you a whole day.

Kyle felt quite full after eating only a small portion.

Honestly, if this thing were any harder, it would definitely be Rock Cake 2.0, Hagrid would probably love.

During the meal, Kyle saw Chris, but did not go up to say hello.

Since he was accompanied by several well-dressed wizards, they were presumably from the Romanian Ministry of Magic.

They were also eating bone-in meat and flatbread, and they were enjoying it immensely. One of the men, who seemed to be the leader, even felt unsatisfied after finishing his meal and went to order another serving.

"Hi, Charlie!"

Just then, a burly, middle-aged wizard ran over from a distance. "Someone told me you had a child with you. Is it your brother?"

But he's not red-haired... Never mind, whoever he is, it's very dangerous here right now, you'd better get him out of here quickly."

"Holman, you've misunderstood," Charlie explained. "He's not my brother; he's Mr. Scamander's assistant."

"Assistant?!"

"Yes, I saw them come together with my own eyes," Charlie said. "And he's already fourteen, which meets the minimum age requirement to enter the protected area."

"Oh..." Holman looked at Kyle incredulously.

Although it's still a bit hard to believe, since Charlie has said so, there probably won't be any problems.

He smacked his lips.

Everyone else's assistants were either House-elf or adult wizards around thirty years old, but Mr. Scamander actually had a fourteen-year-old child with him... truly unique.

only...

Holman stared at Kyle, slightly lost in thought, hesitating whether he should send someone to protect him.

But the problem is they don't have enough manpower. They're already stretched thin, and if they send another person out, who knows what might happen?

But ignoring it isn't an option either.

Mr. Scamander has a peculiar trait: he becomes overly focused when dealing with Fantastic Beasts.

What if he's momentarily negligent and fails to keep an eye on the child...?

Or, could we find an excuse to keep him on the outermost edge?

"You don't need to worry about him at all, Holman ..."

Seemingly having guessed his thoughts, Charlie smiled and recounted some of Kyle's experiences to his colleague.

He escaped from the clutches of the dark wizard Oren, and in the process, rescued a classmate. He also defeated Werewolf in St Mungo's's, for which he was awarded the Order of Merlin, Second Class...

Holman was stunned by these words.

Although he had considered that the person Mr. Scamander brought couldn't be just an ordinary brat, he hadn't expected the other party to be this extraordinary...

Holman frowned; he wasn't as carefree as Charlie.

Good heavens, a fourteen-year-old member of the Order of Merlin —you couldn't find another like him in the entire Wizarding World.

Such a genius is even more vulnerable to injury. Indeed, we should find a reason to keep him on the outermost edge...

But before Holman could say anything, an angry dragon roar suddenly came from all around.

People instinctively looked up.

In the distant valley, a huge black shadow rose into the air and spewed out a ball of flame that was about forty feet long.

It's like triggering a switch.

The next second, the roars of the Dragon began to resound from all directions.