Erwin tapped his fingers rhythmically on his knee, his mind racing.
He suspected that Alan's public disclosure of his location was a trap. Putting himself in the other man's shoes, Erwin knew he wouldn't leave such an obvious loophole open for his enemies.
But there was a lingering question: what was Alan Solent's source of confidence?
Alan knew perfectly well that the Solent family didn't possess the strength to challenge the Cavendish family head-on. Against true power, scheming was nothing but noise.
A man as sharp as Alan wouldn't be blind to that reality.
Unless... he held a truly decisive trump card.
Meanwhile, deep within the Black Forest of Württemberg, a sprawling manor sat hidden from Muggle eyes.
Inside, a dozen sluggish dragons dozed in the grounds.
In a dimly lit room, Alan sat in a plush armchair, a roaring fireplace before him. Several figures stood rigidly behind him.
"Master," one of the aides muttered, "will he truly come?"
Alan smiled. "He will."
"But you said he is formidable!" the aide protested. "He won't fall for an obvious trap."
"That is precisely why he will come," Alan replied, his voice smooth. "Powerful wizards often share a fatal flaw: curiosity. He will be desperate to know what trump card I hold. And he won't fear it—because he believes his own power is enough to crush any obstacle."
The Solent family aide bowed deeply, visibly relieved. "Your wisdom is profound, Master! If he enters the forest, he will burn beneath the dragonfire."
Alan sneered. "Do you truly believe a few dragons are enough to end a wizard like him? Don't be naïve. Go. Prepare to welcome our guest. He will be here soon."
As the aide withdrew, Alan stared into the flames. A dangerous glint flashed in his eyes.
Suddenly, a black mist erupted from his arm, writhing across his skin.
Alan's expression twisted in an instant. Cold sweat broke out across his forehead, and he scrambled to pull a crystal vial from his pocket. Inside swirled a silvery liquid. He uncorked it and drank half in one gulp.
The black mist writhed, then receded. Alan hastily rolled up his sleeve, revealing a strange, jagged symbol branded onto his flesh. He smeared the remaining silver liquid over it. For ten agonizing minutes, the substance fought against the encroaching darkness. Alan gritted his teeth, veins bulging at his temples, until the mist finally dissipated.
He slumped back against the sofa, exhausted. The crystal vial slipped from his fingers and tumbled onto the carpet.
"Unicorn blood," he rasped, breathing heavily. "Its effects are fading. The backlash has begun... I need the Dragon Speaker bloodline. Erwin must die." His eyes, cold and hard, narrowed to slits. "Or I will be the one to die."
Back in London, Erwin had made his decision.
Just as Alan had predicted, Erwin was a man of supreme confidence. He believed his strength could overcome any risk, regardless of the traps laid before him.
"Aunt Vinda," he said, his voice calm but firm. "Summon the Acolytes and notify the German Ministry of Magic. It's time to utilize them—they will help us probe the depths of this situation."
Vinda nodded. "Understood."
She knew exactly what Erwin meant: the Ministry wizards would serve as advance scouts, testing the enemy's capabilities.
Next, Erwin turned to Charlotte. "Contact all of our assets in Germany. Order them to converge on the Black Forest immediately."
Charlotte nodded crisply and left to relay the commands.
Erwin walked to the window, a faint smile playing on his lips.
Let's make this decisive, he thought.
He was eager to see what Alan's trump card actually was—and whether it could truly surprise him.
Since a trap was set, Erwin would walk right into it.
But whether it was a trap or a suicide mission for Alan was yet to be determined.
A faint, focused intensity radiated from Erwin.
Once the orders were given, the Acolytes, the Ministry, and the Cavendish forces sprang into action.
The German wizarding world descended into controlled chaos.
Wizards converged on the Black Forest in organized groups.
The wizarding district, similar to Diagon Alley, saw increased activity as the Cavendish branch offices coordinated the operation. This unsettled the local German wizards, who sensed that something significant was happening, though they lacked the details. The Aurors, usually patrolling the streets, had been redirected, adding to the tension.
Three hours later, the sun shone brightly outside the forest.
A massive crowd had gathered: the Acolytes, the Cavendish family, and the Aurors from the Ministry of Magic. Everyone waited in disciplined silence.
Except for the Ministry Aurors. They looked around nervously, uncertain of their true purpose.
To the Acolytes and the Cavendish wizards, this was preparation for a decisive operation.
To the Aurors, they were simply following orders.
Any operation required reconnaissance. Erwin wouldn't waste his own loyalists if he could avoid it; these Aurors would be the first to probe the enemy's defenses.
Erwin was pragmatic. Sentiment was secondary when pursuing his objectives.
A swirling vortex of magic appeared, and Erwin, Charlotte, and Vinda stepped out.
The Acolytes and Cavendish wizards immediately bowed. "Master! My Lord!"
The newly appointed Head of the German Auror Office approached with his entourage. "Mr. Cavendish!"
The man was a close confidant of Thorfinn Rowle. After Rowle had been promoted to Minister of Magic with Erwin's support, this man had been placed in charge of the Auror office to ensure the Ministry's enforcement arm remained aligned with Cavendish interests.
Erwin nodded. "Did Rowle explain why you are here?"
"He simply instructed us to obey your orders, sir," the Head Auror replied.
Erwin's gaze swept over the crowd. "Good. Then prepare yourselves. We march on the Black Forest."
Let's see what surprises Alan has in store.