The First Study on the Hungarian Horntail

On Christmas Day, He Shenyan was not at Hogwarts.

He knew that the teachers and students remaining at the school would be holding a Christmas banquet together; the number of people might be small, but the scale would certainly be grand. However, he had more pressing matters to attend to at the moment—at least, far more pressing than a Christmas banquet to him.

He was currently on the Nordic plains, where Dumbledore had procured a Hungarian Horntail for him.

The dragon was covered in black scales, with yellow eyes and bronze-colored horns. Its tail was riddled with spikes. This monster, known for its extreme ferocity, was currently lying obediently on the ground, not daring to even breathe loudly.

Its golden eyes did not even dare to glance at He Shenyan, focusing only on the hem of his black robe.

The man in the suit extended his hand, and He Shenyan shook it. The man said enthusiastically, "Sir, I must say, I have never seen this dragon act like this."

"Is that so? Aren't you an expert in this field? Dumbledore said you've sold over fifty dragons in twenty years," He Shenyan said casually, turning to look at the Hungarian Horntail.

"Haha, that's just a reputation. I have indeed sold many dragons, but I'm no expert." The man laughed heartily, then Apparated away.

He was a sensible man.

Watching him leave, He Shenyan casually placed five detection spells around the area, followed by a powerful anti-magic ward. He then set up a human-repelling charm. After finishing all this, he even cautiously utilized the Mirror Dimension.

The dragon had been left bewildered by this repeated exposure to magical auras. Dragons were naturally highly sensitive to the scent of magic; their tendons, hearts, and even scales were excellent materials for crafting various magical items.

He Shenyan had read in the history of magic that there were only six species of dragons left, all of which were endangered—but the allure of money was infinite.

Moreover, sometimes you don't even need to spend money.

Dumbledore had merely dropped a hint, and this man had volunteered to come forward, claiming he could provide a Hungarian Horntail. He asked for no reward, merely wanting to become a familiar face. Most people like this were adept at opportunism and trimming their sails to the wind.

It didn't sound very pleasant, but most of them did quite well for themselves. Human society could not function without such people, and no one would truly hate them—provided you were not the target of their opportunism.

He Shenyan looked at the dragon before him and, for once, found himself in a dilemma. He wanted to study this dragon, but he did not want it to die in the process.

He soon thought of a solution.

Black magic surged between his fingers, and mysterious magic circles emerged in the air. He Shenyan then used his magic to coalesce a giant hand, grabbing the dragon.

The magic circle expanded, and he pulled the dragon through it. A moment later, the Hungarian Horntail lowered its head, staring blankly at its own claws; it was now more than twice its original size, and its meager brain capacity could not comprehend the situation.

It had originally been only seven meters long, but now it was a full eighteen meters.

He Shenyan vanished from his spot, appearing atop the Hungarian Horntail's head in the blink of an eye.

He stomped his foot lightly, and the mountain-like body of the Hungarian Horntail collapsed to the ground, falling into a deep sleep. He Shenyan stepped down, crouched, and cast a pain-numbing spell on the dragon, his gaze shifting to the hideous bronze horns on its head, lost in thought.

"Research Log: Hogwarts world, classified organism, subspecies dragon, Hungarian Horntail."

As his words fell, a ball of light appeared out of thin air, speaking in an inorganic voice: "Recording started."

"Hmm, let me see. After using the Magnification Spell, its constitution has been comprehensively enhanced; the possibility of atavism cannot be ruled out."

He summoned a wind blade and slashed at the Hungarian Horntail's scales, easily carving a deep, bone-reaching wound into its back.

He Shenyan frowned: "Magic resistance is extremely low; it is unclear if other subspecies of dragons are the same. Make a note: remember to improve magic resistance."

He Shenyan then flicked his fingers, igniting a ball of flame in the air, which he tossed onto its belly. The burning continued for several minutes; under the high heat, the scales on the Hungarian Horntail's belly did not even change color.

Next, he roasted its entire body, and those scales did not even change temperature. He Shenyan laughed and nodded: "Fire resistance is extremely high."

He took two large vials of blood from the wound on the Hungarian Horntail's back. Then, he cast a spell, and a sacred chant echoed in the air, as if millions of voices were singing in unison.

They were male and female, old and young, chanting His holy name, and then said in unison: "Heal."

In a golden radiance, the healing spell from the heavens restored the wound on the Hungarian Horntail's back to its original state, and it even grew a bit larger, reaching twenty-one meters.

He Shenyan was somewhat surprised—this spell came from his own world, yet why could it be used in other worlds?

"Record: The Hungarian Horntail does not resist spells from the heavens and can even enjoy the buff status. The possibility of it being a hell-subspecies dragon can be ruled out."

"Now, let me take a look at your horns."

He said this, and a cyan light lit up in his hand. A massive greatsword appeared in his grasp. He Shenyan, dressed in his robes, swung the giant sword—which was larger than himself—and severed the Hungarian Horntail's horns.

"Hmm. No blood flowed from the fracture; the horns are not a vital point for the Hungarian Horntail."

He flicked his fingers, and one horn flew up. He repeated what he had done at Ollivander's wand shop, only this time he added many special ingredients. He Shenyan leaned on his staff, and the other horn also flew up, vanishing into the air.

He intended to take these back for that old man Ollivander to practice with.

Since he had taught him a trick or two, he had to provide some materials; otherwise, if he messed it up, it would be a stain on his own reputation. He Shenyan thought to himself, always maintaining a peculiar persistence in these strange areas.

"Next, let's test magic conductivity."

He raised his staff; the staff was pitch black, with spiral patterns on the shaft, looking plain and unadorned. But in the next second, its tip was ignited by magic, and a beam of fire that pierced the sky erupted, vaporizing a nearby mountain directly, leaving not even a trace of ash.

If they weren't in the Mirror Dimension, this single strike would likely have driven all the wizards in the vicinity insane.

"Magic conductivity is excellent. I'm starting to wonder, is every dragon race in every world like this? It's a miracle they haven't been farmed in droves. Of course, it's also possible that these guys don't know the importance of sustainable development; you have to harvest the leeks in waves."

"Overall evaluation: An excellent cannon fodder; after passing through the Magnification Spell, it should be able to take on two Steve Rogers. Sorry, Captain, I didn't want to, but how has your advanced training been going? Ah, why am I saying this to the recording orb?"

"The horns and scales have excellent magic conductivity and fire resistance, but magic resistance is average."

The ball of light vanished.

He waved his hand, and the dragon suddenly opened its eyes, letting out a shrill, miserable scream. But its voice began to grow thin, as did its body. From a twenty-one-meter behemoth, it gradually shrank to the size of a palm.

He Shenyan stepped forward and grabbed the agitated little thing, playing with it in his hand. The shrunken Hungarian Horntail bit at him with its claws and teeth, but it couldn't even break his skin. It also tried to breathe fire, but could only puff out a cloud of black smoke.

Not long after, it lay flat on its own, giving up the struggle. It sprawled on He Shenyan's palm, looking exactly like a dead lizard.

He Shenyan looked at the Nordic sky and muttered to himself: "There isn't even a single Chinese dragon. Sigh. I wanted to ride a dragon, too."

He did not know that certain things were about to arrive.

Every cause has its effect.