Beside the Griffin, another giant iron cage held a magical creature that was equally striking: an adult Antipodean Opaleye. Its body was covered in pearl-like scales that shimmered with a multi-colored iridescence, and its pupilless eyes were hauntingly beautiful. However, this magnificent white dragon was now covered in scars, its mouth tightly bound by magical chains. It remained curled in a defensive posture, glaring fiercely at the surrounding crowd.
Yet, among all these imprisoned creatures, the most eye-catching was the occupant of the final giant iron cage—a Thunderbird. This creature possessed three sets of wings of varying sizes, an eagle-like beak, and sharp, knife-like eyes. Its plumage shimmered like spun gold, giving it an aura of ancient nobility.
Despite its majesty, this Thunderbird was also covered in wounds, with many feathers torn from its back and wings. The sight of such a graceful physique brought low made the hearts of those watching ache.
"Another Thunderbird? And a mature one at that. Could it be..." Moody, standing beside Alan, couldn't hide the shock in his eyes. He began mumbling to himself as he studied the bird.
"Another? What do you mean by that?" Alan, hearing Moody's mutterings, glanced at him curiously. Had Moody encountered other Thunderbirds recently?
Moody cautiously scanned his surroundings before leaning in. "Actually, even before the last successful smuggling bust, we had discovered several traces of smuggling within Britain. We could only find fragmented clues during transit and couldn't directly locate the source. But about half a year ago, shortly before we approached you to purchase your alchemy equipment, we finally caught a smuggler's tail. The Ministry tracked and cornered them, but the smugglers seemed to know they had been exposed in advance. They changed their route at the last second and shook off every Auror sent to track them. Although that operation failed, we confirmed that the cargo they were moving was Thunderbirds."
"I see." Alan recalled the golden feathers they had used to test the Tracking Glasses during his demonstration for the Ministry. They looked nearly identical to the feathers of the Thunderbird before him. He presumed the Ministry had placed so much importance on his product precisely because they were desperate for a way to track these elusive creatures.
Alan turned back to look at the bird. It gave him a strange, distinct feeling—a sense of closeness, as if he were looking at a long-lost relative. At the same time, the moment the tarpaulin had been removed, the Thunderbird had locked its gaze onto Alan, appearing puzzled. It wasn't until the creature looked toward Alan's waist that it seemed to confirm its intuition was correct.
Suddenly, its gaze shifted, and it let out an excited cry. The Thunderbird began to struggle in the cage, trying to stand upright, but the cramped space and the sting of its wounds caused it to cry out in pain. This agony only seemed to make the creature more agitated. It began to ram the bars with its injured body, generating violent bursts of electric arcs.
"What's going on? Why did it suddenly go berserk? Find a way to stabilize it! If it breaks free or wakes those two Nundus, we're in trouble!" Bianca shouted, her face paling at the prospect of a chain reaction among the high-risk creatures.
"Wait!"
Just as the surrounding Aurors aimed their wands at the thrashing bird, a deep voice rang out. It was Newt Scamander who had stopped them. If anyone else had interfered, the Aurors would have ignored them or held them accountable for the danger, but Newt was a legend in the field. Everyone slowed their actions, waiting for his insight.
"It's merely calling out to a companion. It lost control because of emotional agitation mixed with the pain from its wounds. Its current condition is very poor. If you forcibly restrain it now, it could be life-threatening." Newt scanned the crowd with a serious expression. As a man who loved magical creatures, the sight of these captives pained him deeply.
Newt turned his head to look at Alan, who looked hesitant. "Alan, I don't know why, but it seems to be calling you. Go forward and see if you can calm it down."
"Me?" Alan pointed to himself, unsure. Newt, being one of the few experts truly familiar with Thunderbirds, nodded with absolute certainty.
Faced with Newt's gesture, Alan couldn't refuse. He walked forward under the watchful eyes of the Ministry staff, approaching the Thunderbird's cage. The surrounding Aurors were incredulous; to them, Alan was just an equipment supplier. They looked at Bianca and Amelia with suspicion—was it really wise to let an underage wizard approach a high-risk creature?
The two department heads, knowing Alan's true strength and special circumstances, signaled the crowd to stand down. They were willing to trust Newt's judgment.
As Alan approached, the Thunderbird immediately stopped ramming the bars. It lowered its head, staring intently at him while letting out soft, continuous cries. Alan confirmed that the connection was real. He thought through what he had: his wand, which contained a Thunderbird feather core, and his mastery of Wild Thunder, which was derived from the creature's original magic rune.