Chapter 275: Restocking the Pantry, and Bellatrix Moves

Arthur felt darkness swallow his vision for a brief moment.

When light returned, he found himself standing atop the broken outer wall of a ruined city suspended in the sky.

Before him, the corpse of a dragon hung half-draped across the crumbling battlements.

When he lifted his gaze further—

He saw dozens of dragons circling through the air.

Most were lesser flying dragons. A handful were drakes and ancient variants.

Even so, the sight was overwhelming.

Arthur took in the surroundings.

He stood within a colossal storm vortex.

At the outermost layer floated a ring of shattered stone fragments, like an asteroid belt encircling the ruined city.

Inside that lay the fractured ring-shaped metropolis where he now stood.

At the very center—

A smaller tornado spiraled upward.

"Smaller" was relative.

It still swallowed most of the city.

In the real world, such a phenomenon would be a catastrophic natural disaster.

Yet here, the city stood unmoving, suspended in the sky as if gravity itself had taken a day off.

Newton would have clawed his way out of his coffin screaming.

Arthur, however, had no interest in debating physics.

His attention was fixed squarely on the dragons.

More precisely—

On the meat.

For the foreseeable future, he would not be short on premium dragon ingredients.

Yes.

In Arthur’s eyes, the dragons had already become flying food supplies.

Why not refine them into bloodline essence for Ifrit?

Because their blood was too thin.

For Ifrit, they were nearly worthless as evolutionary material.

Better to cook them.

After all, Farum Azula still housed stronger creatures—

Ancient dragons.

Draconic variants beyond the common flyers.

And possibly the Dragonlord Placidusax himself—likely a peak-tier holy dragon.

Those would make proper nourishment for Ifrit.

These lesser dragons?

Pantry stock.

Beside him, Melina noticed the unmistakable look in Arthur’s eyes.

She silently prayed for the dragons.

May they at least die quickly.

Then she swallowed.

Arthur’s cooking was unparalleled.

Especially the roasted dragon meat—

Firm, tender, and impossibly rich in flavor.

Her stomach betrayed her again.

Arthur noticed.

A faint smile tugged at his lips.

Melina froze.

A blush crept up her cheeks.

He nodded approvingly.

Her expressions had grown far more vivid lately.

Progress.

Seeing him still smiling, Melina hurriedly changed the subject.

"Do you... need help?"

Arthur considered it.

Hunting dozens of flying dragons one by one would indeed be tedious.

"Yes," he said. "Actually, I do."

He retrieved two items—

A pair of winged boots crafted through alchemy.

And a Sumeru Storage Ring.

"These boots allow flight as long as you supply energy. And the ring—blood-bind it. It can store the dragons. Space won’t be an issue."

Thanks to Ranni’s teachings, Arthur’s mastery of spatial magic had advanced tremendously.

The storage capacity was... excessive.

Melina accepted both.

She pricked her finger, bound the ring, and changed into the boots.

Flight had never been her specialty. She could hover briefly—but nothing more.

With the boots, her aerial mobility improved dramatically.

What truly shocked her, however, was the storage ring.

Its internal space felt vast.

She suspected it could hold half of Farum Azula.

After a brief adjustment period, she nodded.

Then she took to the sky.

Arthur walked in the opposite direction.

The pantry would soon be well-stocked.

12 Grimmauld Place

Meanwhile—

At Number 12, Grimmauld Place, Sirius Black was hosting Harry.

The two were laughing inside, unaware of the approaching danger.

Bellatrix Lestrange had not rushed directly to kill Sirius after leaving Azkaban.

She was fanatical—

But not foolish.

Sirius was no weak opponent.

In her weakened state, she might fail.

So she rested first.

Recovered.

Restored herself to fighting condition.

Now she walked toward the Black family home.

Her gaunt features had regained some former beauty.

She wore a fitted black gown, moving with lethal grace.

Protective enchantments surrounded the house.

They meant nothing to her.

She was a Black.

She knew the family wards intimately.

Normally, Kreacher would have sensed her presence.

But Kreacher had long since been given to Arthur.

And after Harry’s broom had been destroyed during the Triwizard Tournament, Sirius had spent a fortune buying him a top-tier replacement.

His gold reserves were... strained.

House-elves were expensive.

Far more expensive than racing brooms.

Though Sirius had reclaimed some family property, much of it was tied up in shops and assets—not liquid funds.

Thus—

No elf stood watch.

Bellatrix approached the door.

Unopposed.

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