The elderly goblin Grek's hand remained frozen in midair. Before he could cover Keir's mouth, the young goblin's impassioned shout had already erupted through the cavern like wildfire.
Every trace of color instantly drained from Grek's deeply wrinkled face. His loose skin pulled taut, and for the first time, something close to panic appeared in his clouded eyes.
He was not afraid of the wizard standing before them. He was afraid of divine punishment.
Grek seized Keir by the wrist, squeezing so hard that his knuckles turned white. He lowered his voice, but could not conceal the tremor beneath his commanding tone.
"Be quiet, you fool!"
The air inside the cavern seemed to solidify. Even the flames of the campfire flickered weakly, deepening every wrinkle on Grek's face.
Keir tried to struggle, but Grek held him firmly in place. He saw his grandfather's trembling lips and the naked terror written across his face.
Grek swallowed twice, as though forcing down his fear or silently reciting their god's commandments. His voice became so faint that it was almost inaudible.
"Have you forgotten our lord's warning? We cannot speak of it. Not a single word!"
His hand instinctively moved to the amulet hanging against his chest, a charm carved from animal bone that had been bestowed upon them by their god. At that moment, it seemed almost hot enough to burn him.
Grek knew that their god despised having information about himself exposed above all else. Once his existence was revealed, not only Keir but their entire goblin tribe could face an unknown punishment.
Seeing the stubborn defiance in Keir's eyes filled Grek with both desperation and pain. He lowered his voice even further, his words almost pleading.
"Listen to me, Keir. Don't say anything else, for the tribe's sake, and for your own."
Grek's fingernails nearly dug into Keir's flesh, yet the young goblin's back remained as straight as a steel-tipped spear. There was no fear in his eyes, only blazing determination.
He jerked his head aside and tore himself free of Grek's grip. His voice struck the cavern walls like an icicle shattering against stone, sharp and clear enough to pierce the silence.
"What is there to fear? The one we rely on is no imaginary god. He is Death himself! He gave us the power to fight wizards!"
The declaration crashed through the cavern like thunder. Grek's face turned deathly pale, and he staggered back two steps.
Keir had already raised a hand to his forehead. His light-brown pupils abruptly turned pitch-black, and the air around him began to distort. Wisps of black mist seeped between his fingers, covering the hard stone floor with a layer of frost wherever they touched.
"Harry Potter, today is the day you die!"
Keir's voice had changed, becoming as harsh as a freezing wind laden with gravel. He swung his arm, and the black mist instantly condensed into a long, slender bone blade that gleamed with cold, ghostly light.
The blade shot toward Harry with a shriek. Thin cracks split the ground in its wake, and the cold air seeping from them made Grek shudder uncontrollably.
The attack did not appear especially spectacular, but it contained the pure power of Death. Anyone touched by it would be as good as struck by countless Killing Curses, with no possibility of survival.
There was nothing Grek could do now. He could only hope that the attack would kill Harry and that Death would not punish Keir too severely for recklessly using his power in front of a wizard.
Facing the incoming attack, Harry raised an eyebrow.
He had not expected the mastermind guiding the goblins to steal from wizards to be Death rather than Voldemort.
Even so, Harry did not immediately believe everything the three goblins had said. He intended to personally examine their memories with Legilimency afterward.
Harry raised his wand almost instantly and gave it a casual flick.
Green light flashed, and the attack, powerful enough to kill a dragon with ease, was simply annihilated.
Keir's face turned white, but he refused to admit defeat. More black mist poured from his body and formed another blade.
This blade was different from the first. Although the previous one had been powerful, it had still been made from insubstantial mist. The new blade was formed from an even greater quantity of black fog, yet it was smaller, no larger than a short dagger.
Its reduced size had allowed it to become solid. It appeared to be made entirely from snow-white bone and radiated an even purer aura of death.
Even Harry's expression grew slightly more serious as he studied it.
The aura emanating from the bone blade made his heart sink. It was colder and more sinister than the power of a Dementor, as though it could extinguish the soul itself.
The blade contained very little energy and posed no real threat to Harry, but the fundamental nature of its power had already reached the level of a Dimensional Demon God.
Using the bone blade placed Keir under tremendous strain. His face had become deathly pale, and he looked as though he might collapse and die at any moment.
Grek's expression also changed drastically. As he stared at the blade, he could almost see his own reflection waiting at its tip.
Endless black mist flowed across its surface. Countless tiny shadows seemed to struggle inside it, each one a soul trapped in agony.
"Stop!" Grek screamed in despair. "Death's power will consume you!"
Keir ignored him. His eyes bulged, and veins stood out across his temples as he forced two additional streams of black mist into the bone blade. It accelerated and expanded, spreading wide enough to engulf the entire space before Harry.
The bone blade hurtled toward him at incredible speed.
Keir stared at the scene without blinking. This attack contained every last ounce of his strength. If it failed to kill Harry and use Harry's soul to appease the backlash from Death's power, Keir himself would be the one to die.
Unfortunately, Keir had greatly underestimated Harry and overestimated the power Death had given him.
The bone blade reached Harry, but this time Harry did not even bother firing a disintegration beam. His gaze merely sharpened as he glared at the weapon.
The bone blade, despite being infused with Death's power, stopped directly in front of him.
Harry extended his index finger and lightly tapped its surface.
The blade instantly shattered.
Keir stared in complete disbelief, unable to accept what he had just witnessed. He could never have imagined that the attack into which he had poured everything would be neutralized so effortlessly.
The price of failure was more than he could bear.
Before Keir could utter a single word, a mass of black mist suddenly erupted from inside his body. Unlike the diluted fog he had voluntarily released earlier, this mist was incredibly dense. It resembled black flames, and it swallowed him in an instant.
At that moment, a cloaked figure holding a scythe emerged from the darkness. The instant he appeared, he spoke in a raspy, vicious voice.
"Filthy goblin. Did I not warn you never to reveal my existence to wizards unless you were certain you could kill every last one who witnessed my power?
"And yet you exposed me to this wizard and were still defeated by him.
"Under the terms of our contract, your soul now belongs to me!"
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