As the harrowing scene unfolded before her eyes, a spectacle that looked as if demons had returned from the depths, Malika couldn't help but murmur aloud:
"Where… did they come from?"
Beside her, Rosier responded with casual indifference:
"These forces were originally meant to be our contingency for Uagadou. But thanks to Wentworth's impressive work, we never had to use them. So, it's the Kalembo Tribe that gets to enjoy their presence instead."
At that, Rosier propped her chin with the back of her hand and turned toward the Great Elder of the Kalembo Tribe, her voice laced with a knowing edge:
"So you've heard our story? Then tell me, who gave you the confidence to believe that we'd be undone by a mere tribal enclave of African wizards?"
"I'll admit, perhaps the Kalembo Tribe holds considerable sway across this region of Africa. But how do you compare to the Magical Congress of the United States? Or to the International Confederation of Wizards?"
"Weakness and ignorance have never been the true obstacles to survival. Arrogance is."
The Great Elder bowed his head in silence for a moment after hearing Rosier's words. Then, with a wry smile, he lifted his gaze to meet Rosier's and spoke slowly:
"Would you… allow the Kalembo Tribe to leave behind a seed?"
Behind them, flames surged through the rainforest, lighting the sky in searing crimson. The Alliance's witches and wizards, their expressions calm and resolute, closed in on the Kalembo witches, who stared back with terrified eyes.
Only one order from Rosier stood between peace and the outbreak of a small-scale wizarding war.
Rosier was quiet for a moment, then let out a sigh before saying:
"If this were the old me, I wouldn't even consider the request. But now… for the sake of our young master, who is in dire need of capable people, I'll allow it."
The Great Elder stared at her, stunned. He clearly hadn't expected Rosier to grant the plea.
"You… you're serious?"
Rosier frowned, her voice tinged with irritation:
"Do I look like I need to lie to you?"
"But make no mistake, the Alliance has no use for dead weight! I'll give you one hour. Those still standing after that will be spared. But only if they swear an unbreakable vow of eternal loyalty to the Alliance, never to betray us."
Without waiting for a reply, Rosier turned and began to walk away, leaving behind a cold parting remark:
"Don't even think about going easy on them. The Alliance wants only the elite. If the survivors don't meet our standards… the culling continues."
As Malika followed Rosier beyond the perimeter of the Alliance's circle, a sudden cascade of explosions rang out behind them. Even without turning back, Malika could feel the raw pulses of magic surging in the air.
She had barely begun to process her narrow escape from death when Rosier suddenly spoke:
"You made a wise choice just now."
Her sudden words caught Malika off guard. After a pause, she offered a bitter smile and said:
"To be honest, the moment I made that choice… I regretted it. But there was a voice inside me, telling me that even if I were to die, I wanted it to be a fate I chose. I don't want to be anyone's puppet again."
Rosier gave a noncommittal nod. After a moment, Malika hesitated, then gathered her courage and asked:
"Do you… really intend to let the Kalembo Tribe survive? Even just a seed?"
Rosier looked at her with an inscrutable smile and slowly nodded.
"Of course. The Alliance does not stoop to deceiving the weak. They've already suffered enough. A promise made is a promise kept."
Hearing this, Malika nodded in understanding, then spoke up earnestly:
"In that case… let me help. I'm from the Kalembo Tribe, I know who has the most potential. I also know who's long harbored doubts about the tribe's choices."
But as soon as she finished, Rosier chuckled softly.
Confused, Malika stared at her, unsure of what she had said wrong. Rosier leaned in slightly and said in a quiet voice:
"Malika… it seems you still don't understand. You are the seed of the Kalembo Tribe."
Malika froze.
Her eyes widened in astonishment as she stared at Rosier, disbelief etched across her face.
Rosier said nothing more. She simply fell silent.
Roughly thirty minutes later, Rosier glanced toward Abernathy, who had been quietly watching from nearby.
"You have half an hour. Is that enough?" he asked.
Abernathy bared his teeth in a vicious grin as he drew his wand.
"Twenty minutes will do just fine."
Without another word, he raised a hand, and the Alliance's wizards followed him with purposeful strides toward the heart of the Kalembo settlement.
Moments later, shouts of outrage and cries of defiance echoed through the forest. For twenty full minutes, the sounds of resistance swelled, and then faded into silence.
Malika clenched her jaw, staring blankly at the place she had once called home. Words failed her.
Just then, Rosier placed a hand gently on her shoulder and spoke in a quiet voice:
"Come. Let's take one last look at the place you grew up."
When Malika arrived at the Kalembo gathering grounds, what met her eyes was ruin.
Trees had fallen in massive clusters, their treetop homes crushed and scattered. Only the Alliance's wizards remained on their feet. The rest, the surviving witches and wizards of the Kalembo Tribe, were being dragged to one side like cargo, their bodies piled together without ceremony.
Malika trembled.
Though she had long felt estranged from her tribe, it had been her home for over a decade. Seeing it now, this place of memories, reduced to rubble, she stood in silence for a moment. Then, with a bitter smile, she let out a soft, almost laugh-like exhale.
Bitterly, and almost to herself, she muttered:
"From this day forward… my life holds only the road ahead. There's no turning back."
Suddenly, a disturbance broke out nearby. A moment later, Abernathy returned, dragging the Great Elder of the Kalembo Tribe behind him. He looked stunned, shaking his head as he turned to Rosier.
"This old fellow, he's actually quite strong. Lived through the whole thing, at his age!"
The Great Elder, face pale and worn, forced his eyes open and raised a trembling finger toward Rosier.
"You…"
"Avada Kedavra."
Before he could say another word, Rosier ended it with a flash of green light.
"Sorry," she said coolly. "It hasn't been an hour yet."
Then, turning to Abernathy with a frown:
"He was already that close to death. Why bring him here? Next time, give them a clean ending."
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TN: This fanfic has been fully translated and is available on my Patreon —— patreon(.)com/PrimalDemon [remove the parentheses ( )]