Sunny Finch worked quickly, her sketching pen flying across the map as she plotted her thoughts. She produced a small compass, placing it on the parchment and comparing readings carefully. Then she closed her eyes, reaching out to sense the flow of the dragon veins.
With her current power level, this shouldn't have been possible. Very few wizards could sense the flow of magical ley lines directly. But Sunny Finch had her own methods. Relying on her intuitive grasp of ancient arrays, she used the logic of formation magic to deduce the direction of the currents.
She began marking the map, tracing the path of the ten converging veins. Eventually, she stopped—not because she'd found the answer, but because she'd hit a wall. The magical currents stretched too far, their totality beyond her ability to map completely. However, based on the fragments she'd gathered, the ten veins seemed to converge at a single, unknown location.
To verify this, she would have to visit the Ten Great Dragon Veins personally.
Sunny Finch sighed, reluctantly rolling up the map. She felt she'd grasped the edge of a great secret, yet the full picture remained frustratingly elusive.
Erwin, watching from the shadows, quietly dispelled the monitoring charm he'd been using. A faint smile touched his lips. She was clever, her perception sharp. Her talent for deciphering ancient arrays was remarkable. If only her raw magical reserves were stronger, she might have uncovered the truth entirely. Her value to him was far higher than he'd initially estimated.
He closed his eyes, content to wait.
Left with no other option, Sunny Finch returned to her tent, her mind churning with unsolved puzzles.
Late that night, Ravenclaw returned to her enchanted portrait frame. The respite was over. Erwin didn't know where she had wandered during her absence. Though his power had grown beyond hers, the authority of the Founders remained undeniable. Even Erwin couldn't track Ravenclaw's every movement.
The following morning, as the sun crested the peaks of the Changbai Mountains, the spectators gathered in the stands. The representatives from the four schools had already entered the valley, preparing for the final test. Erwin took his seat in the viewing gallery, with Voldemort sitting calmly beside him.
Voldemort stared at the white jade dragon sculpture on the viewing screen.
"Is this your purpose, young Erwin?" Voldemort asked, his voice a low hiss.
"Something like that," Erwin replied noncommittally.
Voldemort nodded, letting the matter drop. He knew that even if he pressed, Erwin wouldn't reveal his hand.
Below, the school teams stood ready, but none rushed forward. They watched one another, assessing their rivals. Observing the white jade dragon sculpture itself yielded nothing—it was the other contestants who held the key.
Sunny Finch stretched, stifling a yawn. "Well? Are we planning to stand here all day? It might be wiser to cooperate. Erwin mentioned yesterday that this test is too much for any single school to handle alone."
Fleur Delacour nodded in agreement. "I'm in. We're at a disadvantage to begin with, so I have no qualms about accepting help."
Krum paused, then grunted his assent. The last few days had stripped away his former arrogance; he understood the vast power gap between the schools now.
Finally, all eyes turned to Charlotte.
"If everyone else is willing to cooperate," she said coolly, "then so are we. But how? We don't even know what this trial entails."
"That's simple," Sunny Finch grinned. "We test it."
With a flourish, a massive warhammer materialized in her grip. She took several strides forward, crossing the threshold into the area enveloped by the white jade dragon's light.
The moment she stepped inside, Sunny Finch froze completely.
In the audience, Grindelwald frowned. "That girl from Britain... she doesn't usually act so recklessly. Charging into the unknown alone?"
The others murmured in agreement. Her sudden action seemed utterly impulsive.
Fleur spun toward the remaining British students. "What happened? Sunny Finch isn't usually this rash. Why didn't any of you stop her?"
The British students exchanged glances. One finally spoke up. "Sunny has her reasons. She'll be fine. This is likely an array. In our tradition, testing an array with one's own body is often the only way to break it."
Fleur opened her mouth to argue, but Charlotte gently pulled her back, shaking her head.
Voldemort leaned toward Erwin. "What is this? One of your tricks?"
Erwin's lips curved. "Nothing to do with me. But she is interesting. She seems reckless, but she's actually testing a specific hypothesis."
Voldemort glanced at Sunny Finch, who remained motionless. "I see nothing but a girl standing still."
"You can't see it," Erwin said softly. "Only the one inside the array can."
Inside the array, Sunny Finch found herself in a chaotic, void-like space. Everything was shrouded in gray, sightless mist. There was no light, no life, no sound. Sunny Finch didn't panic; she scanned her surroundings, confirming that she was indeed testing Erwin's conjecture.
Suddenly, a roar shattered the silence—a dragon's cry.
A streak of silver light flashed through the gray.
Sunny Finch's eyes lit up. Without hesitation, she lunged after the silver glimmer. But the moment she took the step, the world shifted.
A cacophony of battle cries erupted in her ears. The gray mist dissolved into a vivid, violent scene: a battlefield.
Sunny Finch looked down. She was clad in gleaming silver-white armor. Nearby, warriors in identical armor engaged in desperate combat with figures draped in black steel.
Before she could take in the details, an arrow hissed through the air.
It was impossibly fast. Even Sunny Finch, with her reflexes, couldn't dodge. The projectile pierced straight through her chest plate. She looked down and watched, numbly, as a wisp of white energy—her essence—was siphoned away by the arrow.