On the enormous platform, the aged dragon let out low, mournful cries. Beneath its exquisite goblin armor lurked a savage, furious soul.
It could no longer remember how vast the clear skies had been, or how it had felt to slice through fierce winds with its wingtips.
The sheep its mother brought back, the wild cattle running across the grass-only in dreams did it occasionally find itself spreading its wings and soaring once more.
The dragon felt its rage and hatred burn hotter than its own flames, endlessly searing its will.
It stood and spread its wings. The goblin armor upon them shimmered with magnificent colors-the most expensive instruments of torture.
The scales on its neck glimmered like fireflies in a forest, faint at first, then rippling upward from below.
By the time the glow reached its gaping jaws, it erupted like a volcano, deafening and laden with the dragon's pent-up resentment.
A pillar of fire shot skyward, illuminating the entire cavern, and its roar thundered through the underground chamber:
"ROOOOAR!"
The group's footsteps faltered slightly. They were all seasoned souls who understood the ways of the world; even Zhang Xiao, the youngest, had lived two lives. Every one of them heard the emotion within the dragon's roar.
Newt sighed. As an authority on Fantastic Beasts, he firmly believed in harmonious coexistence between wizards and magical creatures. Making use of their natural instincts was acceptable.
But this kind of enslavement and suppression was neither something he liked nor something he could accept.
"Newt, I know what you're thinking-" Dumbledore shook his head. "Even if we rescue this dragon, the goblins will immediately bring in another."
Grindelwald gave a soft scoff and shook his head as well.
"Because rescuing this dragon means another will suffer in its place, we must