"Attention, family!" Sabine's voice echoed through every corner of the valley. "The second semifinal of the Tournament of Ancient Blood begins now!"
A fresh roar erupted.
"Elisabeth and Nyra!"
"Anneliese and Lysander!"
On the commentary platform, Mira leapt to her feet.
"This duel will be different!" she said, voice trembling with excitement. "While Nathael and Karl clashed with brute force and extreme strategy… here we'll witness something rarer."
"Exactly!" Tobias added, adjusting his glasses. "Elisabeth and Nyra have won their matches by waiting for mistakes. But… what happens when they face someone who makes none?"
"Anneliese," Mira said. "The heiress. The coldest mind in the family. And Lysander, whose loyalty is his greatest weapon."
"And let's not forget," Tobias said, "that Elisabeth is only fourteen."
A murmur rippled through the stands.
"Can a girl born of the secondary branch challenge the future matriarch?"
Sabine raised her hand.
"Let the second semifinal begin!"
The stadium transformed.
The ruins vanished. In their place, an endless beach emerged—golden sand, gentle waves lapping the shore, tall palms swaying in the night breeze. The sun had set, and the first stars shimmered in the sky.
A beautiful field.
A dangerous one.
Elisabeth didn't hesitate.
"Expelliarmus!" she cried, casting the spell with force.
But Anneliese didn't dodge. Didn't block. She smiled.
"Too fast," she said. "Too direct. You didn't use your environment. Didn't use ancestral magic. You just threw a modern spell… like a student."
The spell struck an invisible shield and dissipated.
Elisabeth blinked.
"What?"
"Allow me to show you," Anneliese said.
She raised her wand.
"Expelliarmus!"
The spell that shot forth was golden-red, runes glowing within. It struck four palm trees simultaneously, disintegrating them into a cloud of golden dust.
The stadium fell silent.
"Do you see the difference?" Anneliese asked. "It's not just about power. It's about understanding."
She stepped forward slowly.
"Modern magic didn't emerge from nothing. It stems from the arcane. But many wizards have forgotten that. They use spells like buttons—press and hope they work."
She paused.
"But true magic… is a dialogue."
Lysander, at her side, approached Nyra.
"It's not just about casting magic," he said softly. "It's about empowering your body."
He wrapped himself in a blue aura.
"Speed. Strength. Anticipation. With this, a single strike of my claws can disarm an expert Auror—not through brute force, but through intention."
Nyra looked at him, impressed.
"I've never seen it like this."
"Because in the secondary branch," Lysander said, "they teach you to obey magic. But in the main branch… magic obeys us."
In the stands, the younger spectators pulled out scrolls and quills.
"Write this down!" a boy whispered. "It's a lesson from the heiress!"
The elders nodded, respect in their eyes.
"Sabine raised her daughter well," one murmured.
"Yes," another agreed. "She's not just strong—she's a master."
Meanwhile, Anneliese continued.
"There are three ways to wield magic in our family."
She raised three fingers.
"First: pure ancestral magic. Like the black chains Nathael favors. They don't just immobilize the body—they seal magic itself. But they require immense reserves… and total understanding. Nathael is better than I am at this. He can conjure them without words or wand if he wished. I… need both."
"Second: enhanced modern magic. Expelliarmus, Stupefy, Aguamenti—infused with arcane runes. They use less power… and hit harder—like the Expelliarmus I just showed you. And if you master it further…"
She raised her wand.
"Aguamenti Draconis!"
From the sea, a wave rose—not as water, but as a liquid dragon, with foam scales and eyes of light. It roared, then dissolved into the air.
"Third: total fusion. Not just enhancement—but transformation. Like Nathael did with the Zouwu. But that… is for extreme duels."
She looked at Elisabeth.
"You used only the first level—and basic forbidden magic at that. And not even well."
Elisabeth lowered her gaze.
"I didn't know."
"Now you do," Anneliese said. "And that… is more valuable than winning."
She turned.
"Shall we continue?"
Elisabeth looked at Nyra.
Nyra nodded.
"Yes."
The duel resumed.
But this time, Elisabeth attacked as Anneliese had taught her.
"Stupefy!" she cried, weaving runes into the spell.
Anneliese smiled.
"Better."
She deflected it with a gesture.
Meanwhile, Lysander lunged at Nyra—not to harm, but to demonstrate.
"Like this!" he said, dodging an attack. "Don't use all your strength! Use the enemy's against them!"
Nyra mirrored him.
"Like this!"
The duel became a dance of teaching.
The crowd watched, mesmerized.
"It's like they're practicing!" Mira said.
"No," Newt Scamander said softly. "They're learning."
Minutes passed.
Elisabeth cast rune-infused spells. Nyra used her body as a weapon.
But Anneliese and Lysander were always one step ahead.
Not through superiority.
Through experience.
Finally, Elisabeth halted the duel.
"I surrender."
Anneliese nodded.
"Wise choice."
She helped Elisabeth to her feet.
"You've grown more today than in a year."
Elisabeth smiled.
"Thank you, heiress."
"Call me Anneliese," she said. "Because today… you weren't my enemy. You were my student."
The stadium erupted in applause.
Sabine raised her hand.
"Victory to Anneliese and Lysander."
She turned to the field.
"Second finalists of the Tournament of Ancient Blood."
In the stands, Nathael watched.
"I didn't expect that from Anneliese," he said.
Celestia purred softly.
"That's what makes a matriarch. Maybe you should learn that side of her too."
And in the center of the field, Anneliese looked at Nathael.
She knew the true test… was yet to come.