Three dragons led the way, roaring as they swooped rapidly toward the plaza. Their enormous wings beat the air, and the gusts they stirred up made the flags overhead rustle and snap. Though the wizards knew full well that Harris could not possibly be mad enough to let these dragons hurt them, the intense assault on their senses still made them almost forget to breathe, their hearts pounding faster.
The dragons' forms grew larger and larger. As they neared the spire of Ravenclaw Temple, they wheeled around again and settled directly atop the temple, looking down at the crowd below.
"The armor on those dragons... is that Mithril?!" Stephanos of Greece was the oldest of all the officials, and with his good birth and high position, he could hardly believe his eyes after recognizing the material. "There's enough Mithril to forge armor for several dragons..."
Once they knew it was Mithril, the other wizards' eyes went red with envy. Items made of Mithril not only had excellent Magic Conductivity, they were tougher than steel yet light as a feather, and their luster would not fade with time. Owning even a single piece was something to be proud of, yet Harris had actually used it to make dragon armor—and for three dragons at that!
Vasil of Bulgaria pressed his back tightly against the wall. With such a powerful formation displayed right in front of them, he, who knew something about Muggles, understood that this was clearly meant to flaunt the United Kingdom's military might in a manner similar to a Muggle military parade, a show of force aimed at them. Quite a few Ministers had already made their own judgments. Without question, Harris now wanted them to realize this clearly: aside from top-tier combat power, even these conventional forces remained at