"Without a brain, but resentnt... has already seeped deep into my shattered soul." The black-robed skeleton responded earnestly, leaving the little wizard at a loss on how to retort.
Ian had never lost his mind, nor did he die leaving just a shattered soul behind, so he had no evidence to refute. The first thing he thought of was Voldemort’s shattered soul. That old schoolmate had lost his mind on multiple levels, and Ian wondered if the other soul fragnts would "quantum sync" their hatred towards him.
"I must find a chance to eliminate him."
Ian felt uneasy.
Of course.
The urgent matter at hand that worried him most was the black-robed skeleton in front of him.
"What do I have to do for you to not follow ?" Ian attempted to negotiate with the black-robed skeleton. Even though it seed not to have any intent to harm him, he still didn’t want a towering skeleton watching him while he ate, slept, or even went to the bathroom.
Attend classes or not?
Go back to the orphanage during holidays or not?
Reputation still matters or not... well, this doesn’t seem to matter now.
After all, due to various reasons, he no longer had much reputation, being considered a Necromancer. In fact, that was probably the best reputation he had gained these days?
"Grant flesh."
The black-robed skeleton repeated but didn’t press the matter of love any further; it likely realized Ian was allergic to the term, even if it no longer had much wisdom left.
"How about sticking so pork or beef onto you? That way... we’ll use lamb, emphasizing tender youth!" Ian, not being well-versed in Life Alchemy, suggested.
Moreover, he doubted that Alchemy would work on this guy, especially since the chains on it rendered all magic powers ineffective.
"..."
The black-robed skeleton fell silent once more.
Ian thought it was dissatisfied with his choice of at.
"I don’t have the ability to get you human flesh, but I can give you a list. If you can kill those people and stick their flesh onto yourself, that’s fine too?" The little wizard began to tally up his enemies and potential enemies, along with the nas of Death Eater remnants.
"I want my own flesh."
The black-robed skeleton finally couldn’t hold back.
"You’re truly making things difficult for an eleven-year-old child."
Ian sighed heavily.
"Eleven?"
The black-robed skeleton was puzzled — in its hollow eye sockets, Soul Fire burned, and the image within presented a radiant soul rather than the true appearance of the little wizard.
Clearly.
The black-robed skeleton couldn’t see life, only the soul of life.
"How about this, let’s compromise. Swear over your family’s ancestral grave that you’ll stop disrupting my life, and I promise that when I have the ability, I’ll help you?" Ian hesitated for a mont before tentatively asking. He was quite skilled at painting grand pictures.
"There is already a contract between us."
The black-robed skeleton’s voice remained raspy, as if its throat were clogged with fish bones.
"When?"
Ian blinked in astonishnt.
"When you awakened , the contract was already established." The red patterns on the black-robed skeleton flared again, and it gestured for Ian to look at his own wrist.
"..."
Ian complied and imdiately saw a glowing pattern on his wrist, countless crimson lines intertwined and sketched to form a symbol resembling a blood-red sun.
"Is my hand back not enough for you old monsters?" Ian felt a bit helpless, such déjà vu he’d experienced a total of three tis over the past year.
"What is the content of this contract? Don’t think about lying to ... I’ve got people backing up from behind and above... no, below, and I’ll have them verify whether what you say is true." Ian, having been tricked by Slytherin’s Ouroboros Curse, was feeling anxious, fearing the black-robed skeleton in front of him would dig another big pit for him.
"You use love to grant flesh, and I serve you... for ten thousand years." The black-robed skeleton replied succinctly and added after a pause.
"This is not my doing, but a predetermined fact sensed upon my awakening." The black-robed skeleton’s words explained why it had never shown any hostility.
"..."
Ian had an epiphany.
Perhaps the frenzied deductions from his Misty Illusion Experience Card before had a little bit to do with the contract stealthily established.
With this thought.
He realized even more. No wonder that mutt Black Phoenix refused to show up earlier, it had pecked Ian gently a few tis before the black-robed skeleton revived.
He thought it was just a gesture of affection, but the worst culprit turned out to be that Phoenix! Ian would bet Voldemort’s entire family that the so-called contract definitely had sothing to do with that Black Phoenix!
"Very well, ten thousand years, start working, while I think about how to give you flesh." Ian’s vigilance didn’t lessen much, but if things were indeed as this skeleton claid, it wouldn’t be bad.
Ten thousand years.
His great-grandson’s grave wouldn’t even have any goods left, and whether or not he finds a way to give the skeleton flesh, it would certainly be a worthwhile deal for him.
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