Hearing the words of the Great Elder of the Kalembo Tribe, Rosier mused aloud:
"Danger sense, is it? Quite the useful magical gift. Let them come out, skulking in the shadows is hardly a hospitable way to greet guests."
At his words, the Great Elder cast a long, probing look at Rosier. Then, he struck the canopy beneath his feet with his staff, the thud echoing ominously through the trees.
Moments later, wizards began to emerge from the surrounding treetops, one after another. Each held a wand, eyes fixed intently on Rosier and the other members of the Alliance.
It became evident that Rosier and her companions were completely surrounded.
Then the Great Elder spoke again.
"Now, are you prepared to tell me who you really are?"
Without hesitation, Rosier drew her wand. Under the wary stares of the Kalembo wizards, she pointed it skyward. A brilliant burst of magical fireworks exploded above the rainforest, forming the unmistakable symbol of the Deathly Hallows.
The Great Elder's eyes narrowed the instant he saw the emblem. His voice trembled with disbelief.
"The Alliance?! How did you find this place?"
Rosier scoffed, the corners of her lips curling into a smirk.
"Is there anywhere in the magical world we can't reach? Though I admit, I'm surprised you know of the Alliance."
Suspicion deepened in the Great Elder's gaze. After a pause, he said slowly:
"I don't just know the Alliance. I believe... I know who you are."
"Oh? Do you, now?" Rosier's curiosity was clearly piqued.
The Great Elder locked eyes with her, then enunciated each word with deliberate weight:
"If I'm not mistaken, you are none other than Vinda Rosier, Grindelwald's lieutenant, known across France as the Black Rose, scion of the pure-blood Rosier family."
Rosier tilted her head, propping her chin thoughtfully on the back of her hand.
"Have we met?"
The Great Elder chuckled, shaking his head.
"I've seen you, but you certainly wouldn't remember me. When Gellert Grindelwald stood before the world, campaigning to become Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards, I was just a nameless young wizard from Africa, wandering through Europe."
"But it was that very journey that opened my eyes. I collected tales of the Alliance, stories that lit a fire in me."
"When I returned to Kalembo, I applied what I had learned in Europe to my own people, and it worked remarkably well."
"Of course, I made a few... adjustments. The Alliance unites wizards with ideals. I use incentives."
Rosier nodded faintly, murmuring in response:
"No wonder... I sensed something familiar in Wentworth's letter."
"But power built on incentives? It's fragile. Like bubbles, lovely in the sun, but the slightest touch and they burst. Look around, even your own people seem to doubt you."
As she spoke, Rosier cast a glance at Malika standing by her side.
The Great Elder didn't react with anger, at his age, there was little he hadn't seen. He too turned his eyes to Malika and asked quietly:
"Malika, tell me. Why are you here? What happened at Uagadou?"
Malika hesitated, then recounted everything that had transpired at the great African school.
When she finished, the Great Elder sighed deeply.
"So close… so terribly close."
Then he turned to her again, voice slow and measured:
"Malika, this is not your fault. I can even understand why you did what you did. I'll offer you this, one final chance. Come back, and I'll pardon everything."
At his offer, Malika instinctively looked toward Rosier. The Great Elder waved a hand dismissively.
"Don't worry about them. Each one of them is already locked under a wand. This is Africa. This is our land. We know every inch of it. We outnumber you. The advantage is mine."
But Rosier only twirled her wand lazily between her fingers and said:
"Don't be so sure. Look up."
At her words, the Kalembo wizards, including the Great Elder, instinctively turned their eyes skyward.
There, the Deathly Hallows symbol still hung above the rainforest, glowing steadily in the sky. It hadn't faded or vanished like ordinary fireworks.
Rosier's voice rang out again:
"You didn't really think that was just a firework, did you? That's magic, you fools. Without a counterspell or my dispelling charm, it will stay right there, broadcasting our location to the world. And by now… well, the timing should be just about right."
A sudden wave of cries and shouts erupted through the clearing.
Startled, the Great Elder followed the sound, and his eyes widened in shock, thick smoke was rolling in from the distant jungle.
He whirled toward Rosier, panic-stricken.
"What… what have you done?!"
Rosier replied with casual malice:
"You've already guessed, haven't you? It's exactly what you think."
Screams broke out again, louder and more frenzied.
"Elder! Our concealment enchantments, they're gone!"
"Great Elder! Look—!"
Following the cries, the Great Elder turned again and saw it: vast clouds of smoke blanketing the forest, and beneath that smoke, wizards, dozens, maybe hundreds, emerging from every direction, wands in hand.
Behind them, the forest blazed with magical fire.
Malika stood frozen, struggling to breathe. A suffocating dread pressed down on her as the invading wizards closed in like phantoms risen from hell itself.
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TN: This fanfic has been fully translated and is available on my Patreon —— patreon(.)com/PrimalDemon [remove the parentheses ( )]