"Check the others," Erwin ordered, his voice cutting through the stillness.
Charlotte moved swiftly among the fallen bodies, her wand tip alight. A moment later, she returned to his side, her expression grim. "They're the same, my lord. All of them."
Erwin fell silent, processing the scene. A slow, calculating expression eventually touched his features. "Interesting. A secret technique? A final trump card?" He let out a low sound of contemplation. "My curiosity is growing."
Whether from the literature he'd studied or the lore of the wizarding world, Erwin knew that nothing happened without cause. This anomaly—this blood draining from the dead—had to serve a purpose. It was undoubtedly Alan's design, though the specifics remained a mystery.
Unlike naive protagonists, Erwin didn't delude himself. He was in a dangerous situation, and he needed to remain alert.
"What are your orders, my lord?" Charlotte asked, hand resting on her wand. "Should I send scouts ahead?"
"No," Erwin replied, his gaze fixed on the path ahead. "We advance at full speed. Keep your guard up; I suspect we'll encounter more resistance before we reach him."
Charlotte nodded, trusting his judgment without hesitation. She never questioned his commands.
Erwin wasn't marching to his doom. Even knowing Alan had prepared a trap, he felt no fear. Alan didn't know all of Erwin's capabilities. And Erwin didn't know all of Alan's. But in a contest of hidden strengths, Erwin was confident in his own power.
Miles away, within the confines of Solent Manor, Alan seemed to sense the shift in the magical currents. He smiled.
"Just as I expected," he murmured to the shadows. "Confidence can blind even the most cautious. You will pay for underestimating me, Erwin."
He turned to the window. Inside the manor's shadowy halls, dozens of black-robed figures stood like statues, awaiting orders.
"Go," Alan commanded.
Silent as wraiths, the figures bowed and surged out into the forest.
In the Black Forest, Erwin's main force continued its push forward. Just as he had predicted, the attacks grew more frequent—suicide assaults by wizards whose power was no match for his own. They were handled with ease, but the aftermath was disturbing. Each time a body fell, its blood vanished, drawn away by an unseen force.
Erwin followed the pull of that magic. He came to a halt before a towering, ancient tree. Carved into its bark were strange, pulsating patterns. The blood was being absorbed directly into them.
Runes? Erwin wondered, stepping closer. He had spent years studying Ancient Runes, but none of the texts contained anything like this. They felt ancient, yet wrong.
Suddenly, starlight shimmered beside him. Ravenclaw materialized from the ether, yawning as she floated.
"Erwin?" she murmured, her voice echoing like a dream. "Where have you brought us this time?"
Erwin quickly explained the situation. Ravenclaw's eyes widened with academic interest. "Unknown runes? Now that is fascinating."
She drifted toward the tree, her spectral fingers hovering over the carvings. "They look familiar… but different from what I know." She tilted her head, recalling ancient memories. "Before I founded Hogwarts, I traveled to ruins that resembled a temple. There, I saw ancient runes—arcane symbols used by powerful sorcerers. But those were different. They radiated a pure, structured power."
She traced the jagged lines on the bark. "These… they feel cold. Corrupted."
[Note: Original text had "Divine Runes" with implied Chinese cultural reference. Changed to "ancient runes" for Western audience.]
Erwin's eyes sharpened. "Corrupted?"
Ravenclaw glanced at him. "Did you think of something?"
"Just theories, Your Majesty," Erwin said carefully, concealing his thoughts.
"Go on, then," she said, waving a hand dismissively as she became engrossed in the patterns. "I'll study this. I've never seen anything quite like it."
Erwin nodded, leaving her to her work. He didn't worry about her safety; Ravenclaw was far more formidable than she appeared. Even without a physical body, her magical reserves were substantial.
Guided by the flow of dark magic, Erwin led his force deeper into the forest. They passed more marked trees, confirming his suspicion: the enemy was no longer hiding. They had revealed their hand.
"Good," Erwin thought, his eyes narrowing. "If they hadn't shown themselves, tracking them down would have taken considerable time."
Finally, the trees parted, revealing a clearing at the southernmost edge of the Black Forest. In the center stood a vast, ominous manor.
Without hesitation, Erwin strode forward. He saw Alan standing at the entrance, dressed in a sharp gray suit, a polite smile on his face. He looked less like a cornered adversary and more like a host expecting guests.
Erwin's lips curled into a matching smile. He signaled for his followers to halt, leaving only Charlotte by his side as he approached the manor.
"Long time no see, Erwin," Alan greeted him, his tone cordial.
"Indeed," Erwin replied, stopping a few feet away. "Are you really here to greet me at the threshold?"
"Of course," Alan said, gesturing toward the open doors. "I am the host; you are the guest. Proper etiquette is required. Won't you come inside?"
Erwin stepped forward, his gaze sweeping over the manor. "I accept. I must admit, I'm fascinated by your residence. I never imagined the forest concealed not just a manor, but a breeding ground for dragons."