Outside, a flash of white light erupted from the jade dragon sculpture!
Sunny Finch was sent flying backward instantly.
Her teammates from the other schools caught her quickly, their faces etched with concern.
"Sunny, are you alright?"
Sunny Finch shook her head, gritting her teeth as she stood. "I'm fine. The path is clear. This trial is an environmental test—or rather, a test of willpower. When I entered, I found myself on a battlefield. We were the white side; the enemy was the black. Our task is to help the white forces defeat the black ones!"
The other contestants exchanged bewildered glances.
"What is this—some sort of chess game?"
Sunny Finch knew words were insufficient. "You'll understand once you see it for yourselves. We need to go in together."
The members of the four schools nodded. Before stepping into the white light enveloping the statue, Sunny Finch raised a hand.
"Wait. This test might separate us," she warned. "To be safe, let's link our magical reserves. That way, we can stay connected no matter where we end up."
It was a solid strategy. No one objected. Together, they stepped into the light.
The audience watched in silence. Though Old Tom had stepped forward to explain the situation, the tension was palpable. No one left; this was the final hurdle, and they were determined to witness the outcome.
Meanwhile, in the VIP stands, Voldemort narrowed his eyes, glancing at the young man beside him.
"Erwin," he murmured, watching the contestants freeze in place on the viewing screen. "This test..."
Erwin nodded, his expression focused. "I altered the format. It's simpler this way."
He didn't elaborate. He couldn't afford to be distracted. The Dragon-Locking Spirit Array wasn't as straightforward as Sunny Finch believed. While the students possessed the talent to dismantle it, brute force wouldn't suffice. Erwin had to intervene, shifting the test into a more manageable form—a feat that demanded his full concentration and a significant expenditure of power.
On the spectral battlefield, the students immediately engaged the black-armored figures. Charlotte cast a spell, watching it slam into a black knight's armor. Nothing happened. The knight didn't even flinch.
"My spells are useless!" she cried out. "My offensive magic is too weak!"
Sunny Finch hefted her massive sledgehammer. "Let me try!"
She swung with all her might. The hammer connected with a black-armored soldier, sending him flying. He hit the ground and dissipated into smoke.
"They aren't human," Sunny Finch realized. "They're constructs. We need physical force or high-level magic to break them down!"
The contestants rallied, adjusting their tactics to hammer the black-armored legion.
Erwin watched the scene unfold. He raised a hand, and a cluster of magic crystals appeared, rapidly depleting as he channeled their energy. The strain was evident on his face.
"Keep going," he whispered, though the participants couldn't hear him.
While the trial raged on, the situation on the Kunlun Mountains was deteriorating. On the other nine dragon veins, chaotic energy began surging from the earth. It was a volatile tide, threatening to break containment.
But the moment it surfaced, the ancient patterns carved into the mountain peaks flared with a dull light, suppressing the surge. These were the Dragon-Locking Spirit Arrays—the guardians of the mountains' magical essence.
On the highest peak of the main range, the Sect Leader of Kunlun stood amidst the swirling wind. He moved with practiced precision, weaving streams of energy from his palms.
"Suppress!" he commanded.
The energy beneath the array patterns buckled but fell under his control. He frowned, wiping a bead of sweat from his brow.
"The ten veins are linked," he muttered, his voice tight with tension. "If one destabilizes, the others overcompensate. It's a delicate balance. Erwin, you had better hurry."
Beside him, members of the Selwyn family appeared, their wands drawn, adding their own magic to reinforce the failing wards.
Back at the tournament grounds, the tide of battle was turning. The black-armored soldiers were falling rapidly under the combined assault of the four schools. The white-armored defenders rallied, pushing forward.
Suddenly, a golden pillar of light shot up from the base of the jade dragon sculpture. It was a signal of success—the second lock was breaking.
But before the crowd could cheer, a blur of darkness darted across the platform. A shadowy figure latched onto the golden pillar and ripped it from the ground.
BOOM.
The ground shook violently.
Most of the wizards present couldn't track the movement, but those with the perception of Dumbledore, Grindelwald, and Voldemort saw it clearly.
It was Little Black, the serpent that shadowed Erwin everywhere.
Erwin watched with grim satisfaction. Little Black tossed the golden pillar aside, his eyes glowing as he focused on the remaining locks, poised to strike again at a moment's notice.
"Good," Erwin murmured. "I knew I could count on him."
Little Black's physical prowess was a marvel—far beyond that of a normal magical creature. Anyone else would have struggled to dislodge the nails, but for him, it was effortless.
The battle on the spiritual plane raged on. The third nail was beginning to loosen.