"Don't worry, Dad, I will. I truly love Hogwarts! I know I'll have a wonderful time there, even if it's only for a few more years!" Zoe insisted brightly.
Laurent looked puzzled. A few years was considered short?
However, he didn't press the issue. After exchanging a few more casual words with his daughter, he turned and left her room.
Once the door clicked shut, Zoe looked up at the bright moon and murmured softly, "Mr. Cavendish, I hope you'll slow down a bit. Let me enjoy my time at Hogwarts a little longer... though I know it's not entirely your decision. Someone else is pushing you forward."
A flash of silver light swept through her eyes. She rubbed them, her tone shifting from wistful to annoyed. "Here we go again! Can't you be patient? My bloodline hasn't been extracted yet—this won't help anything! You have to wait!"
The silver light intensified, pulsing with urgency.
"Fine, fine! This is so irritating!" Zoe sighed, her voice dropping to a mutter only she could hear. "Okay, I'll comply. What's the point of rushing? Things are already beyond your control. What can you do about it? You might as well conserve your strength for the final confrontation."
Zoe closed her window and turned back toward her bed, unaware that a figure hovered in mid-air outside, observing her every movement from the darkness.
That figure was Erwin.
In the shadows, his familiar Ebony—a shape-shifting serpent—perched on his shoulder, hissing softly.
Erwin reached up, stroking the creature's scaled head. "Yes, you noticed too. They're getting restless—they've started showing themselves. But that's fine. It saves me the trouble of hunting them down."
Ebony regarded him with gleaming vertical pupils.
Erwin chuckled darkly. "Who knows what will happen? It's not entirely my decision. It depends on circumstances. We've already lost so much time—there's no telling what preparations he's made. We all experienced his last contingency plan. He knows too much. If we're forced into a corner, we'll have to make difficult choices."
Ebony nodded, a cold glint flashing in its reptilian eyes.
Erwin yawned, stretching. "All right, it's too early to worry about these things. We still have preparations to make. Let's take this one step at a time. For now, let's get some sleep."
Ebony gently nuzzled Erwin's cheek. Then, without attracting the slightest attention, master and familiar vanished from their vantage point.
Below, the Cavendish retainers continued their dutiful patrol of the grounds, completely unaware their lord had been hovering directly above them moments before.
Deep within the snow-covered peaks of the Himalayas, hidden in an ancient valley known only to initiates as Kunlun.
Several senior instructors stood outside a cavern entrance, their expressions uniformly concerned as they stared at the dark opening.
"How long has Sunny been inside?" one asked tensely.
"Almost a month now."
"That long? Why hasn't she emerged yet? What is that girl doing? We told her to exit after a few days—there are ancient protections within the valley that she isn't ready to encounter yet."
"You all know Sunny's personality. She has exceptional natural talent for the magical arts and an unusual fascination with them. There are wards left by the founders here—she won't leave until she's satisfied her curiosity."
"But remaining inside for so long is dangerous. Could she have lost her way?"
"Should we go in and bring her out? The Hogwarts term is approaching—she needs time to prepare for the journey!"
Just then, a figure arrived, moving with an authority that silenced the murmurs. The instructors immediately bowed.
"Greetings, Headmaster."
The newcomer was the Kunlun Headmaster himself. He glanced at the cavern entrance, his expression calm and measured. "Don't worry about Sunny. She'll emerge when she's ready. You underestimate her aptitude. Trust that she's fine—she'll surprise us all when she returns."
The instructors exchanged uneasy glances. A woman stepped forward, her concern overriding her usual deference. "Headmaster, I don't understand. Was it truly necessary for her to enter so early? Even I didn't enter until I was twenty, and I suffered considerably from the experience."
"Her situation differs from yours," the Headmaster replied gently but firmly. "I know she's your student, but she's also my student. Don't worry—she'll be fine. Trust her abilities."
The instructors sighed collectively, a sound of reluctant acceptance. Though they didn't always defer to their leader on every matter, his status as the most accomplished Headmaster in three centuries commanded respect they couldn't ignore.
"Understood, Headmaster," they intoned.
The Headmaster nodded, shifting topics. "Have you selected the students for the Hogwarts exchange? Remember, participation must be voluntary. Kunlun doesn't force anyone."
An instructor shook his head ruefully. "Not yet. The number of applicants is overwhelming—we can't possibly accept them all."
The Headmaster's eyebrows rose. "What? Why is there such enthusiasm? Do they truly wish to study abroad that badly?"
"It's not exactly that," the instructor explained. "The main issue is that the younger generation is desperately bored. They've heard that spirits—ghosts—roam freely at Hogwarts, and they're eager to apply their theoretical knowledge in a practical setting."
He paused, looking pointedly at the Headmaster. "You know that most spirits in Britain were captured by our previous students. The year the spirit population plummeted catastrophically was our generation's doing. You personally captured the most."
"So," he continued, "these children haven't even encountered a spirit yet. They study theory and practice runework every day. Naturally, they want to observe actual spiritual entities."
Hearing this, the Headmaster coughed awkwardly and rubbed his nose. "That was for the stability of our magical community! The entire sect pooled resources to establish the suppression array. Any entity with the potential to manifest as a spirit is now immediately neutralized by the ward. It was for the greater good—don't hold it against us. We couldn't allow the dead to disturb the living. Our circumstances differ from the West. Here, when spirits form, they're extraordinarily powerful—unlike the harmless wisps common in Britain. Once these entities fully manifest, even experienced students struggle to handle them."
"We're not blaming you," the instructor assured him. "We understand the reasoning. Britain's situation is different, so this was a decision made by the previous generation. It has nothing to do with current policy. But now—how should we choose? These students are all incredibly enthusiastic."
The Headmaster stroked his beard thoughtfully. "How about... drawing lots?"