The chaotic battle in the sky lasted all the way into the next day, with no signs of stopping.
Normally, when a Fire Dragon faces other fantastic beasts, the fight usually ends with one blast of Dragon Flame—this is their primary attack tactic.
But such a skill doesn't work nearly as well when they're up against other Fire Dragons.
They're naturally highly resistant to Dragon Flame.
Unless there's a huge power gap, a breath of Dragon Flame at best leaves a mediocre burn mark on the opponent.
So, with two dragons boasting thick blood and high defense—both losing their main attack—the fight just devolved into a contest of endurance and raw combat instinct.
That Swedish Short-Snout from before? It was a bit lacking in this aspect and ended up as one of the first losers out.
Of course, don't be fooled by those sky dragons scratching and biting like they're not even taking any damage—if anyone dares try to join in, they'd probably be torn to shreds in seconds.
Forget wizards—even tough-skinned trolls would barely last two seconds.
By the time the sky started to lighten, Newt was already at his limit, shaky on his feet where he stood.
Don't be fooled by how he used to haul that suitcase around the world, days without sleep was just routine—but that was five or six decades ago.
For a man pushing a hundred, staying up all night is pretty rough—Newt had guzzled two bottles of Awakening Potion just to hold on this long.
Just as he was about to chug a third bottle, Kael was quick, snatching the Magic Potion Bottle from his hand.
Awakening Potions work well, but you can't just drink them like water.
Besides, the stuff only makes you alert by sheer force—the more you drink, the worse you crash once it wears off.
"Who knows when this will end. Why don't you get some rest?" Kael shoved the Magic Potion Bottle into his pocket. "I'll handle the rest."
"Alright…" Newt glanced up at the situation in the sky, hesitated a moment, then accepted Kael's suggestion.
He really couldn't hang on any longer.
"Our spot's pretty safe, but be careful—if anything goes wrong, get out right away. I remember you have a ring that lets you Apparate."
Newt reminded Kael again before opening his case.
Inside was a small bed—just enough for a nap.
Once Newt stepped in, Kael picked up the case and kept an eye on the battle overhead.
...
This was destined to be a rather monotonous process.
By noon the next day, Newt woke up, and then Kael took his turn to rest…
From night to day, and back to night again…
It wasn't until the early hours of the third day that the chaos finally began to settle down.
Not because it was over, but because the dragons were all too exhausted to fly, wobbling in the sky like they'd been drinking bad booze—their once-massive Dragon Flames reduced to mere sparks—forced to call a temporary truce.
Once the last Hungarian Horntail calmed down, Newt brought Kael back to their previous spot.
Soon after, the others started trickling back too.
Most of them looked dead tired, said nothing, and just went straight to sleep.
The Fire Dragon Reserve had prepared tents for everyone ahead of time, right next to the dining area, as temporary shelters.
Kael curiously stepped into the tent with the nameplate "Newt Scamander."
Inside was a surprisingly spacious three-room setup, complete with bathroom and kitchen. The furnishings were a bit old but spotless, and there was none of that musty smell.
Since he'd taken turns resting earlier, Kael wasn't sleepy at all. He sat down at the table, preparing to tally up his gains from the past few days.
Newt had said earlier that anything they collected here while helping out would be theirs—the Reserve wouldn't get involved… an unspoken agreement between both sides.
Kael opened the Transfiguration Lizard Skin Bag and took everything out, laying it on the table.
First came two huge bags of dragon teeth and scales—though the quality varied, some pristine, some badly damaged. Kael had no time to sort, dumping them all in a corner.
Next, he pulled out a large dark red bottle and dropped it loudly on the table.
Inside was dragon blood—a full pint or so.
In Diagon Alley, a bottle of dragon blood sells for twelve Galleons and that's for a pitifully small amount.
Kael's haul could fill up thirty of those bottles.
Three days…well, two technically… three hundred sixty Galleons. That means one hundred eighty a day.
Even split two ways, it's ninety Galleons each… and with the odds and ends, that's more than Mr. Weasley makes in a month.
"Oh… is that all dragon blood?"
Newt had just stepped into the tent and immediately spotted the bottles on the table.
"That's right," Kael nodded, then frowned, "But there's at least three different dragons' blood in here. Will that be a problem?"
"Just as long as there's no Peruvian Vipertooth—those have toxins in their blood," Newt replied.
"That's a relief." Kael let out a sigh.
Peruvian Vipertooth blood is green; he'd made sure to check, and it also has a nasty pungent odor. If any got mixed in, it'd be obvious right away.
"Oh, by the way," Newt pointed out of the tent, smiling, "I just saw Rockneil out there buying supplies. He's paying fair prices—if you want, you should talk to him."
Rockneil—that professor from Beauxbatons?
Kael thought about it, then decided not to.
He wasn't short on Galleons, besides, he could use all these himself—either for crafting alchemy items or making potions, they're great materials.
Most importantly, they're one hundred percent authentic—no weird junk mixed in.
Kael took out another bottle, split half of the dragon blood, and passed it to Newt.
Newt didn't refuse; he just accepted it with a smile.
Diluted dragon blood can be added to make nutritional supplements for other fantastic beasts; even a drop boosts the quality to a whole new level.
If you sold it in a store, it'd be the difference between standard and premium products.
For someone with a suitcase full of fantastic beasts like Newt, dragon blood is a must-have.
Newt didn't ask for anything else—he left it all for Kael.
Kael spent over half an hour sorting out the badly damaged scraps. That evening, he bundled them up and sold them to Professor Rockneil from Beauxbatons.
A big bag—thirty Galleons by weight. Not much, but hey, better than nothing.
Honestly, Kael hadn't expected Professor Rockneil to want any of that stuff, but apparently, anything dragon-related was welcome.
"Maybe you don't know since you're at Hogwarts…"
Professor Rockneil handed Kael the thirty Galleons, smiling, "Beauxbatons has Alchemy classes. For beginners, you don't need top-notch ingredients—these are good enough."
He told Kael that if he came across any more defective ones, he could keep selling them at the same price—by weight, as many as he liked.
Kael nodded and agreed.
Now he was starting to wonder if the potions ingredients for Potion Class at Hogwarts were supplied by Snape buying them by the pound from someone like this.
...