Whoosh!
Above the Nile River, a golden shadow flashed past, sending ripples across the water's surface. But when Muggles strolling by the riverbank looked up, they could only see a golden dot disappearing into the sky.
Had those Muggles possessed sharper vision, they would have been shocked to discover the golden shadow's true form—a creature that lived only in legends.
Semi-transparent wind currents streamed past Evans as he stroked the creature beneath him, recalling memories from their first meeting to becoming close friends.
Griffins, or gryphons, possessed the head, wings, and forelegs of eagles, while their bodies and hind legs resembled lions, only far larger than normal proportions.
Griffins were natural favorites of the wind. When they accelerated to their limit in flight, they could even break the sound barrier, though such speed put enormous strain on a griffin's stamina and physical constitution. Generally, they wouldn't unleash their full power.
Beyond speed, griffins displayed many wind-related talents in combat. They could use wind to sense air currents for advance warning and evasion, or wrap wind directly around their entire bodies to achieve incredible maneuvers and devastating attacks.
Unfortunately, the Griffin talent he'd obtained was the explosive power they could unleash during attacks—somewhat redundant given his reliance on the Re'em's Heavy Stomp for close combat.
However, while he could only gain one talent, what he shared with his bonded creatures improved all of theirs.
The griffin before him far surpassed its kind in both strength and speed. Even among XXXXX-class creatures, aside from dragons and Horned Serpents with gemstones, other magical creatures barely matched its capabilities.
Only now, there was a wound visible on its neck.
"Long time no see, Ankhaton." Evans stroked the soft feathers along the griffin's neck, noticing blood traces and the faintly visible wound beneath. Pain flashed in his eyes.
"You're injured?"
"Throow~" The griffin called gently, nuzzling Evans's hand affectionately during flight.
"Even small injuries aren't acceptable. Fly slower—let me treat you." Evans placed his suitcase on the griffin's back, patted its side, whispered a few words, then opened the latch slightly.
The first to emerge was a pitch-black, duck-billed head. Nana never enjoyed staying in the suitcase, and she'd attempt escape at any opportunity.
But Evans simply extended one hand, flicked the Niffler's head, then pressed it back inside under her aggrieved stare. They hadn't reached their destination yet, and he couldn't risk letting her out.
He patted the suitcase's side again, this time more insistently.
"Come on out. No need to be embarrassed. No one's judging."
The magical world had healing potions, but they had very short shelf lives. After just over a month, they'd completely lose effectiveness.
This was one reason he'd always coveted the Phoenix healing talent—their healing properties were invaluable.
However, Dumbledore appeared to have many years ahead of him, and the probability of him going berserk and dying anytime soon wasn't high. Who knew when he'd obtain Fawkes's talent?
But waiting for the talent didn't mean he couldn't use it.
After speaking, Evans quietly waited a few seconds. Finally, a large bird, completely bald except for one tail feather, emerged from the suitcase, looking rather self-conscious as it turned its head away.
Perhaps sensing the sudden presence of an unfamiliar creature on its back, the griffin Ankhaton shook itself somewhat uncomfortably. But Evans promptly soothed it, calming its mood.
Then he looked at the bald bird, a smile crossing his face.
"Good morning, Fawkes."
This trip to Egypt wasn't just about the pyramid matter. There was also what he'd previously promised Dumbledore: helping Fawkes find a place to shed its final tail feather.
"Chirp!" Calling softly, Fawkes observed the griffin below and seemed to understand Evans's meaning.
It walked forward two steps, lowered its body, and after a moment's preparation, a teardrop slid from the corner of its eye, dripping onto the griffin's injured spot.
Ankhaton only felt waves of warmth spreading from the wound. Then, accompanied by slight itching, the cursed wound seemed to disappear completely. The pain vanished.
"Screech~" After calling gently in thanks, the griffin beat its wings once more, speed increasing as it flew toward their destination.
But the sudden acceleration had no effect on the person and the bird on its back. A semi-transparent barrier composed of wind blocked all external airflow.
Having completed the healing, Fawkes planned to burrow back into the suitcase to resume its hermit lifestyle.
But just as it pecked open one latch, Evans's hand stopped it.
"There's no rush to go back. Since you're already out, tell me—where do you want to shed this last feather?" He reached out to gently touch the sole remaining feather on Fawkes's tail.
"Chirp!" Somewhat angrily pecking Evans's finger, Fawkes withdrew its feather and turned its head aside with dignity.
"All right, all right, my mistake." Evans extended his hand in a surrendering gesture, his expression becoming slightly more serious. "Seriously, is there anywhere you really want to go?"
The place where phoenixes shed their last tail feather generally held commemorative significance, also symbolizing what power they could gain in their next rebirth.
But after hesitating for a while, Fawkes only chirped softly.
"Haven't decided yet?" Evans looked puzzled, but before he could ask more, Fawkes had already burrowed back into the suitcase, somehow latching it from inside.
Evans shook his head and set the matter aside for now.
Anyway, we'll be staying in Egypt a long time. No need to rush.
The golden griffin raced along the surging river. Less than half an hour later, the griffin's speed slowed as it began to descend.
As altitude decreased, a dozen tents soon appeared in Evans's vision.
This was the newly established camp Bill had mentioned in his letter. Uncertain whether the pyramid's black mist posed any danger, they hadn't dared rebuild the camp beside it.
Several figures moved leisurely about the camp, apparently on patrol.
The griffin's wings slowly flapped, landing on the ground without much sound. But before Evans could jump from its back, an extremely panicked voice rang out from beside a nearby tent.
"E-E-E-E-Evans Kahn?"
Turning, he saw a wizard who'd apparently just come from the toilet, clutching his pants with one hand and staring at him in terror.
Then, not bothering to pull up his trousers properly, the man stumbled backward while loudly shouting, "Oh no! Evans Kahn actually came back!"
Evans: "???"