The Boy They Tried to Sacrifice

Matthew looked at the dazzling street before him, and in that moment, the reality of his transmigration into the wizarding world truly sank in.

Lyon, noticing him standing there in a daze, said with a hint of triumph, "Finally managed to impress you, huh, kid?"

"Before this, you were so calm every time I mentioned something about the magical world—anyone would've thought you already knew everything."

I really do…

Suppressing the urge to respond bluntly, Matthew smiled and said, "Actually, I've been shocked all along."

How could he not be? This world was far more dangerous than the Harry Potter universe he remembered.

He had transmigrated here, and strictly speaking, he was now an invader—marked by a negative status and still under the gaze of something far more ominous.

As the two of them walked forward, the surrounding space seemed to twist slightly, like parchment being softly crumpled.

Matthew looked around curiously, his eyes darting from storefront to storefront, barely managing to keep pace with Lyon.

After walking for about five or six minutes, they arrived at a fork in the road, and Lyon finally came to a stop.

Directly ahead stood a tall, white, three-story building—Gringotts.

"First, we'll set up your account," Lyon said, leading him toward the entrance.

"As your guardian, I'll be transferring your living expenses here regularly. If you ever need more, just let me know."

"Gringotts is a financial institution run by goblins—it's essentially the wizarding world's version of a bank."

Lyon continued his explanation as they walked, "Goblins are an intelligent race in the magical world. They're exceptionally skilled in metallurgy—but also notoriously greedy."

"For example, they believe that anything they create belongs to them by right, and what others pay is merely a rental fee. Once the original owner dies, they claim full ownership again."

"See? Isn't that a bit absurd?" Lyon turned his head, raising an eyebrow at Matthew as if waiting for him to agree.

His voice wasn't particularly loud, but in a hall where most were speaking in hushed tones, it sounded jarring and out of place.

Several people turned to look.

Even the goblin guards stationed around the hall began subtly shifting position, forming a loose circle and drifting closer.

Hey, hey, hey… are you really trash-talking goblins right in their own bank?

Seems to me someone else is the strange one here.

Matthew quickly lowered his voice. "If you speak any louder, the guards outside might come running too."

"Heh~ Don't worry, I'm a regular customer," Lyon said breezily, completely unfazed, as he strolled toward the center of the hall. He didn't even pause his magical-world commentary.

"Goblins have fought several wars with wizards over the right to use wands. But they've always come out on the losing end. As the defeated party, they had no choice but to submit to the rules set by the victors… and accept their fate under wizarding control."

As he spoke, Lyon had already arrived at the main counter in the center of the hall.

The goblin behind the counter was dressed in fine robes, clearly of higher rank than the others.

"Oh, Young Master Lyon, I didn't expect it to be you!!"

The scowl on the goblin's face instantly shifted into a flattering smile upon recognizing him.

With a discreet wave of his hand, he signaled the nearby goblin guards to stand down and disperse.

"See? Told you I'm a regular," Lyon said with a smug expression.

The goblin's sharp eyes moved to Matthew. "And this is?"

"This is Matthew Anglie. Open a new account for him and deposit some pocket money to start with," Lyon instructed casually, not bothering with pleasantries.

"Around 1,000 Galleons… a child shouldn't carry too much on hand."

1,000 Galleons… as pocket money?

Fuck! I'm the rich second generation?

Matthew suddenly realized he'd severely underestimated Lyon's wealth.

Golden bachelor? No—diamond bachelor, clearly.

But then again… could a Ministry of Magic Auror really make this much money?

What exactly was Lyon's family background?

"So you are also a noble Mr. Matthew Anglie. Please allow me to extend my highest respects."

The goblin bowed his head, placing his right hand over his heart.

Then, in full view of everyone, he performed a refined knight's bow to Matthew—a boy of barely ten years old.

This… felt a bit excessive.

As far as Matthew knew, goblins in the original story rarely had a favorable opinion of human wizards.

Having lost multiple wars to wizardkind, the goblin race often harbored a mix of resentment and caution when dealing with them.

Even so, their greed and pride typically pushed them to maintain a facade of civility—never truly humble, but certainly never this deferential.

No matter how you looked at it, such deep respect toward someone underage like Matthew was far from normal.

This only deepened Matthew's curiosity about Lyon's family.

He doubted that even the most prominent pure-blood families received this level of treatment at Gringotts.

Had he missed something important when Lyon introduced his family earlier?

Before Matthew could say anything, the goblin had already efficiently completed Lyon's request.

He slid a slip of parchment across the counter and pushed forward a small, finely crafted cloth pouch.

The counter was taller than Matthew, and just as he was about to stand on his tiptoes to reach the items, the goblin leaned forward.

Stretching his short arms with effort, the goblin handed the two items as close to Matthew as possible.

"Mr. Anglie, this slip of parchment contains your account number and password."

"This pouch is a coin purse crafted especially for our most esteemed guests. It features certain concealment charms and ample internal expansion," the goblin added with a broad, beaming smile.

"One thousand Galleons have already been deposited. I hope everything is to your satisfaction."

Satisfied? Extremely satisfied.

The bag gave Matthew the same sense of warmth and familiarity that his Grandpa used to—except now it was wizard gold.

"Thank you. I like it very much."

"It is my honor to serve you."

The goblin bowed again, his flattery and elegance blending surprisingly well, like a refreshing spring breeze.

After the business was completed, the goblin personally escorted Matthew and Lyon to the front doors.

As they stepped outside, Matthew glanced back and saw the goblin still bowing in farewell. He couldn't help but ask:

"Why was that goblin so respectful to us?"

"Ah, that… well, that goes all the way back to the Goblin–Wizard wars," Lyon replied.

"After the goblins were defeated, someone in the Wizarding Council at the time proposed branding them with bloodline magic—essentially a slave mark," Lyon explained.

"Much like the magic used on house-elves, it would've completely enslaved their entire race. The proposal went through many layers of debate, but in the end, it was rejected—thanks to one person."

"Care to guess what that person's surname was?" Lyon asked, a faint smile curling at his lips.

"Anglie?" Matthew guessed cautiously.

"Exactly. Our fifty-fifth family head, Siglais Anglie, cast the decisive vote that struck down the proposal—and in doing so, changed the fate of the goblin race."

"So, although goblins don't hold much affection for wizards in general, they've always shown a special respect toward anyone bearing the Anglie name. It's a legacy passed down from our ancestors."

"Then what about Tom, the owner of that Bar?" Matthew recalled the innkeeper's unusually respectful demeanor.

"That's probably just because I've been a regular for years," Lyon replied casually, clearly brushing off the question.

"Anyway, we've got to get your wand next. Come on—Ollivanders isn't far."