Before heading to Gringotts, Elijah decided to purchase a few things.
He changed his appearance, slipped into a shop, and spent some Galleons on a trunk. Like most wizarding trunks, it was enchanted with an Undetectable Extension Charm, and the space inside was impressively large.
But in Elijah's view, it was still far from enough.
What he needed was not just space, but an entire environment. Wilderness, mountains, even sunrises and sunsets.
Otherwise, there would be no way to store the dragon he had acquired earlier. Even now, the creature remained hidden in a remote mountain range.
"I'll have to modify it myself," Elijah muttered with a sigh.
It wasn't difficult, only troublesome. For now, he set it aside. There were more pressing matters.
He went to the Leaky Cauldron, found the old wizard named Tom, rented a room, placed the trunk inside, and had a quick meal. Then he passed through the wall into Diagon Alley and made his way toward Gringotts.
Gringotts was the most striking building in Diagon Alley.
The goblins clearly believed wealth should be displayed openly.
It stood taller than any other shop, its exterior entirely white, as if built from marble. The bronze doors gleamed under the sunlight.
Even the attendants were dressed extravagantly. The short goblin at the entrance wore a scarlet uniform trimmed with gold, looking thoroughly impressive.
As Elijah approached, the goblin bowed but offered no greeting.
Inside, the floor shone with a pale golden-white sheen, more like polished jade than marble. Beyond the bronze doors stood a second set of doors, made of silver and engraved with warnings on either side.
Though this was Elijah's first visit, he already knew those words by heart and paid them no attention. He had come for wealth that did not belong to him.
From another perspective, however, he did possess the key to Vault 12.
Beyond the silver doors lay a vast marble hall. Nearly a hundred goblins sat on tall stools behind long counters, dressed in suits and ties. Their elevated seats allowed them to look down on every wizard who entered.
Not eye level. Looking down.
A deliberate display of arrogance.
Elijah found it ridiculous.
They had been the defeated side in their conflicts with wizards, yet still clung to gestures like this to salvage their pride, as if it placed them above those they had lost to.
And yet, compared to other non-human races like centaurs or giants, goblins lived far better lives.
Their relentless greed had secured them a place of power.
So much so that many of them now believed themselves superior, even nobler than wizards.
The truth was simple. Rights were never given. They were taken.
And maintained through constant struggle.
From that perspective, Elijah could almost admire them.
But his position was clear.
He was human. A wizard.
"Welcome, sir—" A goblin attendant approached with a half-bow.
"I need access to Vault 12."
The entire hall fell silent.
Quills stopped scratching. Hands froze mid-motion. Even the goblin weighing gemstones paused as the scales tipped, sending a ruby the size of a pigeon's egg rolling to Elijah's feet.
The goblins exchanged quick glances before resuming their work.
"The key, sir?"
Elijah handed it over.
The attendant brought it to an elderly goblin seated at the center of the hall. With a monocle perched over one eye and a pale beard, the old goblin examined it for a long time before speaking.
"The key is genuine. Griphook, take him."
A familiar goblin stepped forward.
He had a high forehead, gray hair, and stood only as tall as Elijah's waist.
"This way, sir."
Griphook led him toward a row of identical white-gold doors.
Sensing Elijah's curiosity, he explained, "Each door leads to a different underground sector. In truth, it's one continuous space, but the tracks vary. Ancient vaults like Vault 12 are located at the very front."
The door he chose was positioned far ahead of the others.
As they walked, Elijah noticed several goblins hurrying off, their eyes occasionally flicking toward him.
Griphook opened the door.
Inside was a stark contrast to the grandeur above.
A vast, damp cavern stretched into darkness. Black tracks coiled along the rock walls like giant serpents, branching into tunnels.
"Get in."
A trolley slid along the tracks. It had no safety features whatsoever, resembling a crude mining cart.
Gringotts charged fees for vault storage, using the money for dragons, security systems, and enchantments.
Comfort, however, was not part of the service.
If it worked, that was enough.
Elijah stepped onto the trolley with Griphook. A single metal bar lowered across them.
Griphook pulled a lever.
The trolley lurched forward.
It accelerated instantly, iron wheels screeching against the track, sparks flying as it raced through the cavern.
Elijah felt as if he were being flung through space.
The ride lasted at least fifteen minutes. By then, he began to wonder just how deep Gringotts extended beneath London.
It felt as though they had traveled for kilometers.
Perhaps they had hollowed out the entire underground.
Or perhaps it was yet another use of the Undetectable Extension Charm.
As the thought crossed his mind, a torrent of water suddenly crashed over him.
Elijah ducked, shielding his face as his features began to revert beneath the soaking water.
Fortunately, the dim light and Griphook's focus ahead kept him from noticing.
"My apologies, sir. That was the Thief's Downfall. A security measure. It washes away magical enchantments," Griphook said, though his tone carried no real apology.
It was, undeniably, an effective defense.
"Does it remove all magic?" Elijah asked casually.
"What do you mean?"
"Would it wash away something like the Killing Curse?"
Griphook stiffened.
"No, sir. It mainly dispels Transfiguration, Confundo, and Imperio. It prevents us from being controlled by wizards with ill intent."
He glanced back at Elijah, wary.
By then, Elijah had already restored his disguise.
"Magic has no absolutes, sir."
The conversation ended there.
At one point, Griphook stopped the cart briefly to report to a guard stationed deeper within the tunnels before continuing.
After an unknown amount of time, he pulled the brake.
The trolley screeched violently as it slowed, sparks trailing like a comet's tail.
"We're here."
Griphook jumped down onto a metal platform.
Before Elijah stood an ancient door.
It was a bronze door, reinforced with magic.
Forcing it open would require an exceptionally powerful spell, and there was a real risk of collapsing the entire underground cavern.
Griphook unlocked the vault with a key, then pocketed it and gestured for Elijah to enter.
Elijah stepped inside.
The vault was empty.
"Nothing at all?"
He had expected this small vault to be a decoy, but he still thought the four Ancient Magic guardians might have left behind something insignificant.
He quickly realized the truth.
It wasn't empty. It had already been cleared out.
Blackened marks covered the floor and walls. Even after more than a century, Elijah could still recognize them.
Blood.
Ragnok had been here.
Using human blood to trace Ancient Magic was a method recorded in Ragnok's manuscripts. In a world without the protagonist of Legacy, he had still found a way to enter this place.
But Elijah knew one thing for certain.
The guardians would never have allowed him to obtain Ancient Magic.
"Sir, I'll wait outside."
Griphook turned as if to leave, but Elijah stopped him.
"Why bother, Mr. Griphook?"
Elijah didn't even look back. His eyes remained fixed on the darkened wall.
"Sir, I don't understand."
"You don't?" Elijah's voice was calm. "Your goblin forces have already boarded every cart that can reach this vault. You're planning to rush in all at once, aren't you?"