The stadium was packed.
Not just the stands, not just the elevated pavilions—but even the trees of the ancestral forest were filled with cousins, aunts, house-elves, and members of the secondary branch who had traveled from the farthest corners of the magical world.
And at the center of it all, Sabine walked with firm steps.
Her black tunic, edged in silver, rippled like a living shadow. At her side, Selene moved her tail with an elegance only years and battle could grant. Her sapphire-blue eyes scanned the crowd… then settled on the four about to enter the field.
"There will be no stadium transformation today," Sabine announced, her voice echoing through every corner of the valley. "This duel will be fought on the very ground where the first Grauheims swore loyalty to magic. Where the ancients watch."
A dense silence spread.
Then the gates opened.
First came Anneliese.
Upright. Impassive. Her plain black tunic seemed to drink in the light of the rising sun. Lysander walked beside her—not as a small or timid cat, but as a guardian who knew his worth. His eyes, though gentle, were alert. Resolute.
Behind them, Nathael.
With a playful smile on his lips, white linen shirt open at the chest, dark trousers, and silent boots. Celestia, perched on his shoulder, surveyed the crowd with a mix of pride and mild irritation.
"Banners again?" Celestia murmured.
"Always," Nathael said. "Fame is a curse."
"A curse you enjoy far too much," she retorted.
They stopped ten meters from Anneliese and Lysander.
The air tensed.
Celestia leapt to the ground and walked toward Lysander.
"You promise me," she said, voice low but clear, "that you won't hold back. That you'll fight with everything you have."
Lysander looked at her. And for the first time, there was no doubt in his voice.
"I promise. I'm stronger than before."
Celestia nodded.
"Good."
Meanwhile, Nathael and Anneliese locked eyes.
"Finally," Anneliese said, "a duel that will truly test my power."
"If you ventured out treasure-hunting more often," Nathael said with a grin, "you'd have these battles every day—instead of staying locked away reading dusty manuscripts."
Anneliese wasn't offended.
"We'll see," she said, the faintest smile touching her lips.
The crowd erupted.
Fireworks exploded in the sky, forming both their house crests. Romilda and her fan club shouted at the top of their lungs:
"NATHAEL! CELESTIA! FOR GLORY!"
"ANNELIESE! LYSANDER! FOR HONOR!"
Sabine raised her hand.
"Let the final duel… begin."
Both raised their wands in the ancient salute: wands crossed, gazes steady, intent clear.
Celestia and Lysander gave slight bows.
"Now!" Sabine commanded.
No pause. No words.
Expelliarmus.
Two golden-red beams, each as thick as a human arm, shot forth simultaneously. They collided at the center of the field, unleashing a shockwave that kicked up dust, vibrated the stones, and forced the front rows to raise protective shields.
But this was no ordinary clash.
It was raw magic. Pure. Unadorned.
Nathael and Anneliese held their wands firm, muscles taut, eyes fixed on the point of collision. Nathael's beam was wilder, more instinctive. Anneliese's was controlled, precise.
But to the sharpest eyes—Newt Scamander, Karl, Eldrin—a subtle difference was clear:
Nathael was gaining ground.
Centimeter by centimeter, his beam pushed Anneliese's backward.
Meanwhile, Celestia and Lysander were already in motion.
Lysander wrapped himself in blue magic and shot forward like lightning.
Celestia did the same.
They met midair.
Impact!
Claw against claw. Magic against magic. Speed against speed.
Each collision sent ripples of energy across the field—enough to knock out an ordinary wizard instantly.
They moved so fast not even the magical mirrors could follow them. They appeared and vanished—in the rafters, in the stands, on the ground, in the air.
But Celestia, with years of battles in deserts, jungles, and temples, held an advantage: tactical experience.
She wasn't just fighting. She was guiding.
With every strike, every dodge, she steered the fight where she wanted: closer to Anneliese.
Because she knew the shockwaves from their clashes were unstable. Chaotic. And if one hit near Anneliese… it would break her focus.
And so it happened.
One especially powerful wave struck the ground beside Anneliese.
She faltered.
Half a second.
But Nathael saw it.
With his left hand—without incantation, without moving his right hand still locked in the Expelliarmus—he raised his fingers.
From the earth, black chains rose.
Like shadow-serpents hungering for prey.
They lunged toward Anneliese.
Lysander saw it.
"ANNELIESE!" he cried.
He threw himself backward, interposing himself, and cast an emergency Protego.
But Celestia gave him no breath.
"Not so fast!" she yowled, slamming into him with an amplified Stupefy.
The impact threw him off course.
And the shield, though strong, wasn't enough.
Nathael's black chains shattered it like paper.
But Anneliese wasn't defenseless.
With her left hand—the one not holding her wand—she cast a spell.
"Glacius Arcanum!"
A wave of pure ice, infused with ancestral magic, spread outward and froze the chains midair. They shattered with a sharp crack.
Nathael frowned.
"Impressive."
But Celestia was already moving.
"Fulminis Tempestae!"
From the sky, bolts of pure energy descended, targeting Anneliese and Lysander.
Lysander didn't hesitate.
"Incendio!"
From the earth, a column of fire rose and took form: a Thunderbird, the mythical storm creature. With a roar, it absorbed the lightning, transforming it into raw power.
The crowd exploded.
"It's impossible!" Mira screamed. "A THUNDERBIRD!"
"High-level magic!" Tobias cried. "Only the most trained can do that!"
At that moment, Nathael and Anneliese broke the Expelliarmus.
Both stepped back three paces.
Celestia and Lysander positioned themselves at their sides.
They stared at each other.
Breathing hard. Sweat on their brows. Magic humming in the air.
But there was no fatigue—only fire.
"Well played," Anneliese said.
"You too," Nathael replied.
The crowd roared.
On the platform, Mira and Tobias were beside themselves.
"In this first exchange, Nathael holds a slight edge!" Mira shouted.
"But this is only the beginning!" Tobias added.