Sunny Finch turned her head to look at him.
"Platinum-blond hair? You must be Draco Malfoy."
Draco puffed out his chest.
It seemed the name of the Malfoy heir had spread far, even to those from the East. This filled Draco with pride.
He gave a practiced, aristocratic bow. "Indeed. I am Draco Malfoy, sole heir to the Malfoy family. The Headmaster's right-hand man and one of Hogwarts' finest students."
Sunny Finch smiled thinly. "Erwin wasn't lying. You are a bit pompous. My name is Sunny Finch. Could you fetch Erwin for me? I need to speak with him."
Draco's face fell instantly.
Pompous? The word struck him like a physical blow.
Why would this visitor speak with such coldness?
Sunny Finch watched Draco standing there, stunned. She waved a hand in front of his face. "Are you alright? Could you just call Erwin?"
She really didn't want to deal with this. Her communication charm was depleted—she'd been contacting Erwin so frequently lately that she needed to recharge it. Otherwise, she would have just reached out to him directly.
Draco frowned. "Wait here. I'll fetch him."
He turned to leave, but a voice drifted down from the staircase above.
"No need. The Master isn't here."
Charlotte descended the stairs, her expression unreadable.
Draco and Sunny Finch looked up.
The moment Sunny Finch saw Charlotte, a sharp glint flashed in her eyes.
She had spent months observing Erwin from afar. She knew Charlotte well—one of Erwin's most trusted confidantes. His true second-in-command.
Draco relaxed visibly. "Charlotte! Perfect timing. I'll get back to my patrol. This guest is in your hands."
Charlotte nodded curtly. Draco turned on his heel and left, eager to escape Sunny Finch's cutting remarks.
Charlotte approached Sunny Finch, sizing her up with a calm, analytical gaze.
"I am Charlotte Theresa," she said, extending a hand.
Sunny Finch shook it firmly. "Sunny Finch. From Kunlun."
Charlotte smiled faintly. "The Master told me of Kunlun's traditions. You seem to know who I am."
She had noticed the flicker of recognition in Sunny Finch's eyes.
"Erwin spoke of you," Sunny Finch admitted. "I was curious to meet you in person."
"He isn't in his dormitory—he's handling external affairs," Charlotte explained. "You may wait in the common room. He should return shortly."
"I'll wait in his room," Sunny Finch countered. "I know Erwin rarely uses the door anyway."
Charlotte shook her head. "Without the Master's permission, I cannot escort you to his quarters. However, I've already alerted him to your arrival. He'll meet us in the common room."
Sunny Finch frowned. "You notified him already?"
Charlotte lifted her sleeve, revealing the dark mark on her forearm.
"Through this."
Sunny Finch's eyes widened.
She had never seen this before. During her observations, she had never witnessed this mark being used for communication.
This was valuable information.
If I could get one of those, I could contact Erwin directly, she thought, her practical mind instantly calculating the convenience. As someone who valued efficiency, the appeal was immediate.
Charlotte saw the interest in Sunny Finch's expression and suppressed a smile.
That was the reaction she wanted. She didn't know the Master's exact plans, but she knew he was gathering power. The East was a natural target.
Erwin had told her Sunny Finch was the most promising young talent in Kunlun. Securing her loyalty—or at least her cooperation—would be a significant asset.
After receiving Charlotte's message in the Forbidden Forest, Erwin hadn't rushed back. He trusted Charlotte to handle the situation while he finished his preparations.
It wasn't until noon that he finally returned to the Slytherin common room.
Upon entering, he found Charlotte and Sunny Finch engrossed in a match. Above their heads, the glowing interface of Heroic Glory projected their battle. Dozens of young Slytherin wizards were gathered around, watching the duel and occasionally gasping at particularly impressive moves.
Seeing Erwin, the crowd immediately parted.
"Chief!"
Erwin waved a hand. "Don't stop on my account."
He sat on the central sofa. The prefects who had been lounging there stood up and moved to stand behind him. Pansy Parkinson approached, poured a cup of tea, and offered it to him.
Erwin sipped the tea, his eyes fixed on the projection.
The two were well-matched. The battle had just begun, yet they weren't rushing into direct combat. Instead, one claimed the top lane while the other took the bottom, focusing on farming minions and building their economy.
Erwin recognized the strategy immediately. These two had clashed before. They knew each other's strengths and were playing a deliberate game, waiting for the perfect opening.
He nodded, satisfied.
Charlotte's experience came from real conflicts and high-stakes situations. Sunny Finch, while skilled, mostly sparred with fellow disciples. She lacked the harsh edge of true combat—a weakness Charlotte was currently exploiting.
However, Sunny Finch had her own advantage: her training.
The Eastern magical tradition had mastered tactical warfare centuries ago. Sunny Finch utilized terrain and resource management with precision that allowed her to hold her ground against Charlotte's aggression.
It was a contest of more than just power—it was a battle of wits, strategy, and patience. And while they fought, they were learning. Charlotte absorbed Sunny Finch's tactical discipline, and Sunny Finch learned Charlotte's ruthless efficiency.