Chapter 329: The Subjugated Titan and The Flight of Green Fire

Orion strode down the narrow stone pathway with a brisk, measured cadence. He did not sprint. Panic was the currency of the amateur; an architect of chaos walked with purpose.

He was fully aware of the lethal martial reputation of Gringotts security. Goblins were vicious, low-stature shock troopers who excelled in close-quarters subterranean skirmishing. But Orion held the ultimate tactical advantage: absolute surprise from within the deepest defensive perimeter, an arsenal that shattered standard magical classifications, and the intent to turn their greatest biological weapon against them.

If Potter and a pair of exhausted teenagers can break out on a blind dragon in four years, Orion thought, twirling his bladed scepter, then a fully prepared wizard with time-manipulation, flight, and an unyielding will can dismantle this place like clockwork.

Halfway across the narrow stone bridge spanning the subterranean chasm, the Universal Sense hummed at the base of his skull.

Footsteps. Rapid, rhythmic, metal-shod boots scraping against the flagstones ahead.

Three goblin guards rounded the jagged cavern bend fifty yards out. They were heavily armored in chainmail and spiked silver pauldrons, wielding short, heavy crossbows and serrated halberds. The moment their dark eyes landed on the masked, cape-billowing intruder walking casually through the restricted sector, their expressions contorted into vicious snarls.

They didn’t waste breath demanding surrender. They raised their weapons.

Orion engaged Parallel Processing.

His consciousness fractured into four distinct, icy threads.

Thread One: Defensive Anchor.

He flicked the scepter casually. A wide, dense, shimmering blue Protego barrier manifested five feet in front of him, locked in space.

Two heavy iron crossbow bolts slammed into the shield with deafening CLANGS, their kinetic force dissipating into harmless blue sparks.

Thread Two & Thread Three: Dual Offensive Deployment.

Orion did not drop the shield. Through the transparent barrier, he aimed the bladed scepter at the vanguard. His mind commanded the kinetic language of the banishing curse, forcing his perception to dye the magic in violent, unmistakable emerald.

Two distinct, brilliant beams of emerald-green energy erupted from the scepter’s crown in rapid, overlapping succession.

The lead goblin didn’t even have time to blink. The first green blast struck him square in the chestplate, detonating with enough kinetic force to cave in the silver armor, launching the guard off the bridge and down into the bottomless abyss with a trailing, fading shriek.

The second goblin was remarkably agile. Using his low center of gravity, he dropped into a sliding roll beneath the second green beam, the curse scorching the cavern wall behind him. He scrambled to his feet, raising his halberd to lunge.

Thread Four: Intercept.

Orion’s fourth mental node tracked the goblin’s recovery arc. Before the guard could thrust, Orion snapped a third green curse downward.

BANG.

The spell struck the flagstones directly beneath the goblin’s boots. The stone fractured, detonating into a localized burst of shrapnel that blasted the second guard violently backward, crashing into the rock face and slumping unconscious.

The third goblin managed to raise a heavy, runic-engraved buckler, attempting to parry a fourth green beam. The kinetic impact hit the shield like a cannonball, throwing the guard off balance, his arms jarring violently. Orion didn’t let him recover; he swept the scepter sideways, unleashing a sweeping gale of Ventus that tore the shield from the goblin’s grip and hurled him bodily against the wall, knocking him out cold.

The engagement had lasted precisely six seconds.

Orion didn’t break stride. He stepped cleanly over the groaning, armor-clad guards, his midnight-blue cape billowing behind him.

"Parallel processing," Orion murmured, a dangerous smirk hidden behind his masquerade mask. "Magnificent."

He rounded the corner, entering the colossal, vaulted amphitheater that housed the guardian of the deep vaults.

The cavern was crawling with activity.

A dozen goblin guards were scrambling across the rocky perimeter, having rushed from the subterranean watchposts. Seeing the masked intruder emerge from the tunnel, the guards immediately formed a defensive firing line, raising crossbows and spears.

Orion’s scepter swept in a wide, sweeping horizontal crescent.

Protego Maxima.

A massive, semi-spherical dome of pale, translucent kinetic force erupted around him, anchoring to the stone floor. A barrage of crossbow bolts and hurled javelins struck the dome, bouncing harmlessly off the reinforced magical matrix.

From within the safety of his shield, Orion looked past the guards.

The beast had risen.

The Hebridean Black was standing at its full, terrifying height, its forty-foot obsidian frame towering over the cavern floor. Its vast, bat-like wings were half-unfurled, its black dorsal ridges bristling with primal fury.

Near the stone pillars, four goblins were frantically slamming the heavy brass Clankers together.

CLANG-CLANG-CLANG!

The deafening, metallic racket tore through the cavern, echoing off the stone walls.

The colossal dragon recoiled, letting out a pained, whimpering hiss, its clouded left eye blinking frantically as it pressed its scarred underbelly against the rock, terrified of the agony it had been conditioned to expect. The goblins used the noise to push forward, attempting to flank Orion’s shield while keeping the dragon pinned.

Orion looked at the magnificent, tortured creature.

"Time to break the conditioning," Orion whispered.

He accessed his Inventory grid.

Retrieve: The Subjugation Collar.

In a flash of digital blue light, the heavy, silver-studded black leather collar materialized in his left hand.

Orion didn’t attempt to run across the cavern to physically fasten it around a thrashing dragon’s neck. He tapped into the System’s native mechanics. He focused his intent on the beast, channeling his core into the artifact.

The collar ignited.

The physical leather dissolved, converting into a blinding, razor-sharp streak of pure, blood-red magical energy.

Orion thrust his hand forward.

The crimson light shot through the translucent wall of his own Protego shield like a bullet, crossing the cavern in a fraction of a second. It slammed directly against the scarred scales of the Hebridean Black’s throat.

The red light wrapped around the massive neck, contracting violently, sinking directly into the obsidian hide.

The scales sizzled, burning with a brilliant, intricate pattern of glowing crimson runes that permanently etched themselves into the dragon’s flesh like an illuminated collar of ancient power.

The dragon froze.

The whimpering ceased. The erratic, panicked thrashing stopped dead.

Its colossal head jerked upright. Its good eye—a brilliant, predatory purple—and its clouded, scarred left eye both ignited with a deep, radiant crimson glow.

The mental tether snapped open in Orion’s mind. It was not a conversation of words; it was a conduit of pure, unfiltered draconic instinct, absolute obedience, and an ancient, waking fury.

Orion smiled—a wild, completely unhinged expression behind the metallic mask.

ROAR, Orion commanded into the link. TEAR THEM TO PIECES.

The Hebridean Black threw its colossal head back toward the cavern ceiling.

It let out a roar that shattered the stalactites above. The sheer acoustic volume of the sound wave pulverized the goblin Clankers, the concussive pressure blowing out the torches and vibrating the very bedrock beneath their boots.

The dragon lowered its maw toward the goblin firing line.

Its throat glowed bright orange, and it unleashed a catastrophic, roaring torrent of liquid dragonfire.

The flames swept across the cavern floor. The goblins shrieked, diving frantically behind boulders and throwing up desperate, shimmering shields as the inferno consumed their ranks, melting stone and shattering their formation in an instant.

While the chaos peaked, Orion dropped his Protego.

He engaged all Five Threads of his Parallel Processing.

Threads One through Four: Quad-Vector Thrust.

Thread Five: Flight Dynamics Coordinator.

The enchanted dragon-hide bands around his wrists and ankles pulled taut.

Orion’s boots left the ground. He shot into the air, launching upward with frictionless, silent acceleration. He soared over the burning wreckage of the cavern floor, his midnight-blue cape flaring wide behind him, the bladed scepter held ready.

While flying through the air twenty feet above the ground, Orion aimed the scepter at the massive iron chains anchoring the dragon’s hind legs and neck to the bedrock.

BOMBARDA MAXIMA!

He fired three rapid, continuous beams of blinding emerald-green blasting curses from mid-air.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

The green curses detonated against the ancient dwarf-forged iron links with the force of artillery shells. Metal shrieked. The massive chains shattered into jagged, smoking shrapnel, raining down onto the stone below.

The dragon was free.

The Hebridean Black reared up, fully extending its massive, eighty-foot wingspan, beating the air with concussive gusts that scattered the smoke. It let out another deafening, triumphant roar of liberation.

Orion curved his flight path downward, banking gracefully through the updraft.

He touched down lightly between the dragon’s massive, muscular shoulder blades, his dragon-hide boots finding purchase on the rough, obsidian scales. He grabbed a colossal, forward-curving spinal ridge with his left hand, while his right planted the bladed scepter firmly against the beast’s neck.

The dragon felt his weight. It didn’t buck. It didn’t try to roll. It rumbled softly, a deep, purring vibration of absolute loyalty vibrating through Orion’s boots.

Orion looked toward the massive, entrance gates and the ascending tunnel to the upper tiers.

His cape whipped violently in the wind. His indigo eyes burned with unyielding, terrifying majesty.

Move forward, Orion commanded into the mind of the beast.

The Hebridean Black lunged.