The Wandering Devil

  Chapter: 18

  Note: decided to make this chapter longer. Hope you guys enjoy it.

  Pa/ t reon details below the chapter if you're interested in seeing some content in advance. I'll keep posting regardless. If you have any suggestions you would like to see added, I will try to incorporate what I can :)

  (Soul Contract)

  I leaned back in my seat, enjoying my meal and savouring the taste of my food. I took this moment of silence to think about what was happening.

  This situation was bizarre, to say the least. Becoming a Dark Lord had not been on my bucket list. I know I was a Devil but was I really this easy to vilify?

  I would be the first to admit, I was a bit morally backwards. My devil instincts didn’t help with this since it made it so much easier to do acts of sin without any regret.

  It was unfortunate but I was technically just defending myself and that point made me less remorseful than I would have liked to be. Could I have talked it out?

  Maybe, but that would have ended me up imprisoned regardless. The reality was they were unreasonable and they attacked first.

  I took a sip of my drink. Butterbeer. I think that’s what Clint called it. It was actually kind of nice. It was certainly different.

  Speaking of Clint. Across from me, Clint still looked like he was on high alert, his gaze shifting to every corner of the pub like he was waiting for an ambush.

  I couldn’t help the smirk.

  “Rex, Clint. I doubt anyone’s going to unch an attack over breakfast.” I said, my voice somewhat imperious.

  He looked over at me.

  “My Lord, how can you be so calm? A squadron of Aurors could come bursting at any moment?” He whispered.

  I took a bite of bacon that was on my pte.

  How couldn’t I feel rexed?

  Something about this situation was making me feel good. I’m going to bme it on my Devil instincts because admitting I’m weird would hurt my pride.

  “If they attack us, I shall deal with them,” I replied nguidly.

  Don’t mistake this situation. Despite this development, I wasn’t going to go around killing innocent people. I just wasn’t that type of person. I wasn’t that far gone or downright insane.

  Was I going to take this chance to perform some illegal acts? Absolutely. A bit of robbery hurt no one and I would even only rob the rich and the bad to make sure I wasn’t harming any truly innocent people's lifestyles.

  Would I also defend myself if I was attacked? Yes. I most certainly will. I’ll even try to be somewhat gentle. Maybe even give them a warning ahead of time so my conscience was clear.

  Clint looked at me conflictingly before nodding. His eyes flickered down to the magical newspaper on the table. Scanning through the title and rexing as he realised that I could handle most problems.

  I looked around at all of the patrons that were sitting by tables nearby, the sound of their loud chatter blocked out by the spell Clint had used. It reduced all outward sounds in a certain area.

  I had also put up a demonic sound barrier along with that so no one would hear us talking.

  Clint suddenly leant forward, hesitation clear on his face before he resolved himself.

  “My Lord, may I know your name?” Clint questioned cautiously.

  I gave him an amused smile.

  “I’m surprised you didn’t ask sooner, my name is Zephyrion..” I replied easily.

  He nodded.

  “If I may ask my Lord, what’s our pn after this?” He questioned, slightly emboldened by my ck of care at his questioning.

  That was the question.

  I already knew what I wanted to do, but in what order was another question.

  First things first.

  “I want to get a wand,” I responded.

  He blinked, and his eyes slowly widened as my words processed inside his mind.

  “Y-you don’t have a wand?” He questioned.

  I raised an eyebrow.

  I technically had the wands I stole but I wanted my own. I had tried infusing demonic energy into one and it exploded. Beyond that, It had also felt lifeless in my hands.

  “You saw me use magic without a wand? Did you think I had it tucked away in my sleeve or something?” I asked curiously. My eyes observing him.

  “I-I don’t know. I didn’t think about it, my Lord forgive my ignorance.” He quickly replied, regaining his composure.

  I could practically see his mind running through the thought process of ‘If he’s that powerful without a wand, how powerful would he become with a wand?’

  The answer to that was I don’t know.

  I didn’t even know if a wand would work for me or with my demonic power.

  “Where will we be going to get this wand?” He questioned after a moment.

  “Not sure, Olivanders is supposed to be the best right?” I asked, in what was more of a rhetorical question.

  He gave me a look of exasperation. “Is going to the most popur wand maker in Diagon Alley such a good idea my Lord?”

  “I mean, yeah. They’re probably the best in Britain. Oh also, I’m going to need some money to buy the wand.” I replied casually.

  Clint nodded. “I don’t have much left though. We are going to need to find a way to obtain some funds soon.”

  I smiled. “I’m sure we can figure something out. Maybe we can rob Gringotts ter on.”

  It certainly held a lot of wealth and some questioning had led me to know they were ruthless when it came down to debt, even going out of their way to take it out in unneeded ways.

  I’m sure they expined it as making sure no one else missed on payments but there was no need to drive magical families into the ground.

  He paled, his hands coming up to clutch the edges of the table.

  “My Lord everyone knows Gringotts is impossible to break into.” He informed me worriedly.

  I rolled my eyes.

  “I’m not saying we would go unprepared. We would need some manpower and some research into the type of defences used.” I replied nonchantly.

  Clint grimaced as if I had brought up some impossible task.

  “I had been thinking more along the lines of an attack on the Ministry Ball that would be held soon. We could scout some weak nobles and hold them up. With your power, it should be easy.” Clint replied.

  “I mean, sure. Why not just hit this Ministry Ball altogether? I'm sure these nobles will have a lot of money with them.” I responded with a zy smirk.

  Clint paled once more.

  “My Lord, I feel like you’re not listening. I only suggested we select a few weak families and ambush them when they leave.” He replied. “The sheer amount of security the event alone would have along with the protection the Pureblood Families would bring. It would make it impossible.”

  I waved him off.

  “You need more ambition. Plus we would be well-prepared after we robbed Gringotts.” I responded dismissively.

  He nearly facepalmed but still remembered to remain respectful.

  While to him my suggestions were ridiculous he was still acting well as my supposed follower.

  He sighed and rexed.

  “If that’s what you wish,” Clint replied in defeat. A grim look of determination on his face. Like he felt the request was impossible but was willing to try it anyway.

  “Good.” I nodded. “We can pn it more once I’ve gotten my wand.”

  Clint nodded seriously.

  We rose to our feet, casting a quick, cautious gnce around before heading to pay for the meal.

  As I followed him outside, I made sure that my hood was still fully up, feeling the shift of the fabric as it shielded my face from curious gnces.

  Clint walked beside me, his posture tense as his eyes darted towards the two stationed Aurors across the street.

  "Rex," I murmured, giving him a sideways look.

  He was acting like he expected them to draw their wands at any second.

  It was possible but I was keeping a close eye on my surroundings.

  Ignoring the Aurors’ presence entirely, I headed down the cobblestone path toward Ollivander's wand shop. The rge title above the shop gives its position away.

  Clint hesitated, casting one st gnce over his shoulder, then trailed after me.

  The bell chimed softly as we stepped inside, and I took in the sight of narrow, dusty shelves stacked high with slender boxes.

  “Ah how curious, rare is it that I get adults that enter my shop? Most wizards and witches are rather careful when obtaining a wand.” A voice spoke from the corner.

  I wasn’t surprised, I had spotted him when we had entered. Clint though jumped out of his skin and I grabbed his arm before he could raise his wand.

  “I’m afraid learning some spells just doesn't seem to go as pnned.” I lied smoothly.

  The old man looked at me with sharp eyes. I could instantly tell this old man was smart.

  “I don’t believe I recognise you and I remember all those who buy my wands. Even if they hide their appearance.” He replied. His hands were behind his back.

  “You’re not the only wand maker I’m afraid, though perhaps it was my mistake buying it from that street vendor. I knew it didn’t suit me.” I replied with a chuckle.

  He smirked but observed me for a moment.

  “Yes, perhaps.” He replied simply.

  He strolled forward. Coming close to me. Clint besides me was tense.

  “Let’s get you a proper wand this time shall we?” He announced.

  “Sounds like a good idea,” I responded.

  He went back to his counter and a magical measuring tape floated beside him. Olivander held out his hand.

  “Wand arm please.”

  I extended my arm easily, watching Ollivander’s gaze as he seemingly took in every detail. The magical measuring tape sprang to life, floating and weaving around my arm with fast movements.

  "Interesting," Ollivander muttered, his eyes glinting. "Very interesting indeed."

  My eyes observed Olivander closely, the way he was saying that was unnerving, to say the least.

  Clint shifted beside me, clearly uncomfortable in the shop's cramped space.

  Once the measuring tape finished, Ollivander moved through the rows of wands with a graceful, practised hand, mumbling to himself.

  He finally returned with a slim, elegant wand and held it out toward me.

  "Try this. Twelve inches, elm, dragon heartstring core," he said, his gaze sharp.

  I took it, feeling the cool wood in my hand. Injecting demonic energy I watched the wand explode. The wood fell to the floor in pieces.

  Clint gulped behind me.

  “A strange reaction. Definitely not the right fit.” Olivander simply said.

  He disappeared into the back and moments ter returned with a wand of dark, polished wood, its surface gleaming faintly in the dim light.

  "Fourteen and a half inches, ebony, with a core of thunderbird feather," he announced softly, handing it to me.

  This time the wand didn’t explode as I poured a bit of demonic energy within it.

  I felt excitement bubble up in me, perhaps I could actually have a wand.

  I added more and it started to crack. The wand was snatched from my hand.

  This scene pyed out for a while. The ck of response seemed to excite Olivander oddly enough even with the pile of splinters below me he was taking this as a challenge.

  He brought out another wand rather hesitantly, looking down at it with a frown. He went to give it to me only to pause for a few moments before sighing and handing the wand to me.

  The wand was dark with a simple design.

  “Twelve Inches, Yew Wood. Phoenix Feather.” He called out.

  I felt my hand being pulled by a minute force that was barely noticeable. The air around the wand felt electric.

  As soon as the smooth wood of the wand touched my hand, I felt something connect. A warmth lingering under the wood, coming up to caress my hand. The wand connected with my demonic power effortlessly.

  Powerful golden sparks erupted around me and a wave of force blew out from me. Clint was pushed back slightly while Olivander looked at me with a grin.

  “Looks like we found the one, I must admit it was one of my more strange creations but I’m gd to see it find an owner.” He said happily. “I highly doubt this wand will fail you as your previous one supposedly had.”

  I interjected demonic energy and the wand handled it like a champ.

  “Clint, pay the man,” I ordered idly. Staring at my new wand in fascination.

  I wonder how much this will reduce my demonic power usage. Even if it was only by five per cent I would be happy.

  Clint didn’t hesitate, paying Ollivander promptly, though I noticed a hint of awe in his expression as he handed over the coins.

  Ollivander had charged extra due to the rare materials in the wand and as we stepped outside, I gnced at Clint, who was now frowning down at his nearly empty coin pouch.

  He looked rather displeased with the sudden dent in his funds.

  It seemed like a lot of things were tied into required funds and Vali wasn't going to cut it out in this world.

  I had my next objective.

  “Hey, Clint,” I called out as we began walking.

  “Yes, my Lord?” He replied.

  I paused as a wizard passed us.

  “I don’t suppose you know any wizards or witches who would be willing to serve me? Or even join me for a heist,” I asked him, taking a turn into a secluded alley that led to Knockturn.

  He smirked at me as if I had asked him some funny question.

  “I know of many who would serve a higher cause.” He replied.

  I was mildly surprised.

  “Then why haven’t they joined this other Dark Lord?” I asked curiously.

  He scowled, looking down at his hands.

  “Because we aren’t purebloods and while this Dark Lord doesn’t only accept Purebloods he only makes exceptions for those he deems talented.” He responded, his face contorted. “This applies to the Ministry too. They only like to take those with good offensive skills. Never even giving people like us a chance.”

  How short-minded.

  Oh well, works in my favour.

  “I see, that’s his loss in that case. Go gather me as many witches and wizards as you can within a few hours. They’ll have to sign a contract like you.” I ordered.

  Why was I bothering with all of this? The answer was straightforward. I needed firepower.

  These magic users could prove useful and I’d be a fool to ignore any potential advantage.

  I was also ying the foundation for a power base. I had every intention of returning to this world. There were far too many things of interest here to simply never return.

  Since they'd already branded me a Dark Lord, why not lean into it? It was better to use their assumptions to my advantage, build influence, and make sure that when I did come back, I’d be even harder to ignore.

  Clint had shown himself to be valuable and it seemed like there was a whole untouched market for Dark Lords. Wizards and witches want to serve a cause greater than themselves. That could be me.

  Who knows, I could even attempt to bring some back with me to Danmachi to serve as guards for my Familia or even just cleaners. They would have to sign a privacy contract of course if that did become the case.

  Clint smiled and looked at me with a deepening reverence. He bowed. “At once my Lord.”

  “Meet me back at the pce you attempted to rob me. I have something else I wish to do.” I responded.

  Clint nodded and bowed once more, before turning around and slipping into an Alleyway. His form disappeared into the shadows.

  I had two objectives. I was going to begin by finding a pce suitable to pn my little heist. Somewhere that won’t be too hard as to ease the new followers I would be getting into the correct mindset.

  Maybe I was rushing things, but with only a day and a half left until Bell summoned me, I needed to make the most of the time I had.

  The second objective was more… personal.

  I wanted to devour a soul. It was something I'd been eager to try for ages but hadn’t found the right opportunity. Knockturn Alley, though, was crawling with the kind of scum no one would miss. I was hoping that if I looked hard enough, I was certain I could find someone who deserved it.

  Devouring souls in Deviling society had become a major taboo, and the new Satans which included my elder sister and Serafall decred it punishable by death. So, you didn’t find many breaking that rule.

  I wasn’t bound by those rules here. I wanted to see what the fuss was about. The thought also made me excited. I wanted to know why my body was responding to my desire.

  I turned and began moving through the dim alleys of Knockturn, my gaze steady as I scanned each storefront for potential. For now, I had a store to find.

  It didn’t take too long until I found myself in front of a particurly interesting store: Borgin and Burkes. Mainly due to its rather contrasting appearance in comparison to most shops around.

  Its window dispys were cluttered with artefacts and ancient relics, with the prices certainly suggesting that they made quite a bit of money.

  I took my time studying the pce, observing the yout of the room visible through the grime-smeared gss. Two men and one woman simply stood around, so I assumed they were some sort of security.

  After weighing the yout, I made my decision. Borgin and Burkes would be the perfect target.

  Turning, I slid back into an alleyway.

  Task one was complete. While I probably didn’t need to be overly cautious, it never hurt to stay sharp. Sure, I could handle multiple Auror squads but getting overconfident wasn’t an option.

  There were more powerful wizards out there like Voldemort and Dumbledore, both unpredictable variables and capable of assembling forces that could take me down.

  Underestimating them would be a mistake, especially given how little I knew of their true strength or tactics.

  Besides, doing everything alone was unnecessary. I already had Clint recruiting any wizards and witches he could find and having manpower on my side added an extra yer of security.

  I turned another corner. I could think about that ter though. I was gd it wasn’t hard to find scummy people in Knockturn Alley. I kept my senses on the cloaked individual following me.

  All I had been doing was wandering like a fool, making a little show of it. I had a contract ready for this. Only one at the moment since it was pretty nasty.

  My guard was up.

  A pale yellow light fshed against the stone walls for only a brief moment, the darkness temporarily receding. Illuminating the pale man under the cloak with a crooked grin.

  I sidestepped, the rapidly approaching bolt of light zipping past me. I waved my hand behind me and a wave of force knocked the man back, the hastily created magical barrier shattering.

  My guard stayed up as the man scrambled to his feet, cloak billowing as he reached desperately for his fallen wand. Before he could grasp his hand around it, I flicked my wrist and the wand easily flew into my hand.

  He froze, his eyes darting to mine. They widened in terror as he took in the gleaming rainbow of colours swirling in my gaze.

  “I- I didn’t know.” He scrambled.

  I hushed him.

  “It doesn’t matter. What were your intentions? Tell me or I’ll kill you and trust me I’ll know if you’re lying to me.” I asked, kneeling.

  He flinched back, his eyes darting to anywhere but mine.

  “I’m a dark market catcher, I-i n-noticed you walking past and thought you would be a good s-specimen.” He sputtered.

  I smiled.

  “Excellent.”

  “Wha-“

  “Sign this,” I ordered, producing a parchment that appeared almost instantly.

  His hands shook as he grabbed the contract, eyes barely scanning the words before he scrawled his name in a hurried, desperate motion.

  He looked back up at me hopefully before his eyes widened, a silent scream tearing its way out of his throat. He crumpled to the ground, clutching his chest as a scream tore through him.

  The contract’s magic fred to life. Binding him in a way that left no room for resistance, no matter how much he struggled.

  I watched him writhe on the ground, backing away from him. My eyes scanned his every movement with fascination.

  A pale weak light rose up into a wobbly orb.

  The orb floated within my hand. My instincts screamed at me and my mouth began to practically salivate.

  I looked at the orb and I could tell… the soul that this had belonged to was a vile human drenched in sin. Murder, ensvement, rape. I could see it all and those who had suffered under this man’s hands.

  Any small guilt I had for the cowardly man evaporated.

  That aspect made it downright impossible to not devour.

  I didn’t need to be told what to do next as the ball was tossed into my mouth.

  The soul contract had been rather simple, whoever signed the contract would forfeit their soul.

  My body shuttered, my demonic energy expanding and my muscles tightening slightly.

  The body on the ground withered away as I grew stronger, skin turning thin and bck while the man’s eyes turned sunken. The man’s hair turned white and fell off in quick succession.

  My eyes closed, the sensation fading away. I see why this particur art form was banned. It was no wonder why people had been so afraid and disgusted by Devils.

  If this was what our predecessors had casually done back in their time.

  I backed away. A small part of me still felt remorseful to the man on the ground but another part of me wanted more.

  I would need to keep a lid on this.

  -{Clint}-

  Clint looked over the gathered wizards and witches with a nod, his recruitment attempts going smoothly considering the short amount of time he had been given.

  He had already managed to recruit over five able-bodied wands.

  He smirked as he thought about his new Lord.

  To say his new Lord was interesting would be an understatement. He knew better than to trust the calm and chilled facade that Lord Zephyrion had dispyed.

  He had seen glimpses of the man underneath. The Intelligence and power that couldn’t be hidden. He was dangerous. It didn’t take a smart man to figure this out, he suspected that was why Olivander had been so careful.

  As Clint has thought, many had been on board with the idea of serving a Dark Lord. It may have seemed stranger to the normal folk but down in Knockturn Alley life wasn’t forgiving.

  Living like a rat, being forced to steal from clueless people who decided to wander the streets of Knockturn Alley wasn’t illusive. Half of the time a robbery would go bust. Either the wizard or witch fought back or simply didn’t have any funds worth it.

  Many lived in Knockturn. It may not seem like it when you walk through the streets but many were there. Lurking around, vipers in a pit of starving snakes.

  People who were rejected, who couldn’t get a job at the Ministry or any other such pce.

  When the word of the first Dark Lord had spread. Many had gone to offer their pledge. The hope of serving a higher power and experiencing what it was to live. That didn’t st long at all.

  It was quickly revealed that this Dark Lord didn’t care for anything below a Pureblood or talented in magic. With so many going to this Dark Lord, he instantly had options to choose from. He had the ability to be picky.

  This was disheartening.

  Clint stopped himself from getting angry, looking over the few friends he had made over the years along with the two other additions he had managed to scrounge up.

  He hoped his Lord would find the four wizards and one witch he procured acceptable. They all knew of the new Dark Lord, word had spread like wildfire across the wizarding world.

  They had all confirmed that they weren’t against signing a contract as long as it was actually the Dark Lord. Unfortunately, Lord Zephyrion would have to show proof of his power but he doubted that would be much of a problem.

  Clint hoped that none of them would be killed before that though.

  “Alright ds, let’s not keep the Lord waiting.” He said, nodding his head and beginning to walk towards the designated area.

  None of them replied, simply following behind him. Wands clutched in their hands. While they didn’t believe this was a trap. One could never be too careful in Knockturn Alley.

  Clint smirked.

  His chance encounter with the Dark Lord had proven to be the best piece of luck in his life.

  -{Alissa}-

  She couldn’t say why she was here, or even why she’d agreed to any of this.

  When Clint had first approached her with news that he’d sworn loyalty to the new, up-and-coming and more importantly dangerous Dark Lord. She’d admittedly ughed, dismissing it.

  Then Clint had shown her the other two robed wizards he had with him and had proceeded to seriously invite her. She didn't know why she had agreed to this.

  She was smarter than this.

  Alissa knew better than to hope for anything better.

  There were many wizards and witches who were talented or born luckier than her. Born into families who could buy them magical books and allow them to truly have a chance.

  It meant that wizarding society wasn’t kind to those below average and was less willing to give people a chance. If you didn’t have good grades and potential when you graduated? Life became harder.

  She had been forced to join the residents of Knockturn Alley at a young age. The reason Clint had found her was due to past encounters. When you lived within Knockturn, finding its residents became easier than it was for outsiders.

  Alissa had watched Clint rush around, scrambling to recruit anyone he could find in the short time this Dark Lord had supposedly provided him for this task.

  Many had rejected him, smarter people in Alissa’s opinion. Everyone knew that a Dark Lord wouldn’t bother with the bottom of a wizarding society like them. The disappointment with Lord Voldemort had shown that to them.

  Just another disappointment in a long line.

  Alissa wasn’t special. Not in the background, magic or even looks. She wasn’t bad, Alissa knew how to fight with what spells she had managed to learn. If she was to make a guess on her magical capability then she would say she was average.

  She could catch a wizard or witch off guard and knew her way through a duel. That was not enough to be recruited by a Dark Lord or the Ministry though.

  Now, here she was. Leaning against the cold wall, attempting to blend into its shadowy comfort. As everyone waited for this Dark Lord. She idly traced the rough surface of the wand that she was proud to call her own.

  Finally, a man appeared. His form was completely shrouded in a hooded robe, the only difference being his rge frame along with the fact the robe looked to be more expensive.

  Her eyes took in the man who Clint instantly bowed towards.

  Alissa shook her head, annoyance bubbling inside her at the disappointment she felt.

  “Really Clint?” Another man spoke, cutting off Clint who had just been about to speak. “Is this some annoying joke? I should have known. As if a Dark Lord would care about us.”

  The man tilted his head, the hood slipping up enough to show an amused smirk. There was something about it that made her stop leaning on the cold wall of the alleyway they were in.

  “You doubt me?” His voice asked.

  The man confidently strolled forward. “Look, I don’t know what you’re pying at but I doubt any other the four other people you got to come here are exactly happy with this joke. I suggest you step back.”

  “My Lord, please forgive them,” Clint asked, a harsh frown on his face. He genuinely sounded worried.

  The man raised his hand, waving it zily.

  Alissa stumbled back, a chill prickling down her spine. She finally caught a glimpse of his eyes, their unique colour holding her gaze for just a heartbeat. But it wasn’t his gaze that froze her in pce.

  Three jagged spikes of ice had materialised, hovering mere inches from the throat of the man who, just a moment ago, had seemed so smugly confident. She realised just how close he’d come to death in a blink.

  A cold breeze passed through the area, all the other wizards registering the attack.

  He was the real deal.

  -{Zephyrion Gremory}-

  I waved my hands and caused the ice to melt, the man stumbling back. He fell on his ass, looking up at me in horror.

  Was I overreacting? Maybe, I didn’t pn to harm him. This had simply been a show. They had all seemed to immediately write me off as some sort of fraud so I thought this was the most effective way to disprove that.

  Apparently, I was expected to arrive with some sort of fir due to my status as a Dark Lord.

  I’d keep that in mind next time.

  I caught a low mutter from one of them, barely audible but filled with disbelief. “F-fuck… He cast that wandless?”

  Perfect.

  A ripple of nervous gnces passed through the group, their bravado dissolving.

  One by one, they took hesitant steps forward, heads bowed. The man who’d fallen scrambled to his feet, bowing the lowest as they all took a look at my visible eyes.

  “Apologies, my Lord,” he stammered, barely able to meet my gaze.

  The others followed suit, voices overpping in a murmur of hurried apologies.

  I raised a hand, silencing them.

  “Very well,” I said, accepting the unneeded apology. “Now that you understand that I am the real deal, the real reason as to why I have called you here. As Clint may have told you, I am looking for those willing to serve me.”

  My eyes trailed across them.

  “Will you answer that call? If so, the contract is here and ready to be signed. If you sign this, you will be mine.” I finished. My tone was a bit grandiose as I tried to pull on my nonexistent Dark Lord Recruiting skills.

  With a flick of my wrist, a stack of enchanted contracts appeared, glowing faintly with magic. Each document was a binding pact, etched with terms they’d have no choice but to follow.

  I held out the first one, expecting a slow process of assuring them that I wasn’t going to abuse them or some other such thing.

  Instead. They lunged forward, each trying to grab a contract before the others could.

  One of them practically shoved another aside, his quill already scratching furiously against the parchment as he signed his name. Another snatched up the next contract, hands trembling as he scribbled his signature.

  They raced, one after another, each desperate to bind themselves first, to secure their pce at my side. The scene had pyed out just like it had with Clint.

  Clint hadn’t been lying. They all wanted to be a part of something bigger. How Dumbledore or Voldermort didn’t take advantage of this was beyond me.

  How quickly loyalty could come around when fear and ambition found common ground.

  They all stood around me, looking at me with open reverence. It was eerie in a way. The wizarding world truly was like the Devil society in their simirity to worshipping power.

  “Wonderful. It’s good to see you all so eager. As you know, I made my debut rather recently. Which means I'm in need of funds.” I announced, slowly watching their reactions.

  None of them had a problem with my ck of funds.

  Perfect.

  “Have you ever heard of a magical shop within Knockturn Alley called Borgins And Burkes?” I questioned.

  They all nodded, looking uncertainly at each other as if waiting for someone else to speak. I rolled my eyes.

  “You.” I gestured to the only witch. “Tell me what you know.”

  She cleared her throat.

  “Borgin and Burkes, my Lord, is one of the wealthiest shops in Knockturn Alley. It’s renowned for trading in rare and, well, dark artefacts. Things that most shops wouldn’t dare to carry.” She started, taking a breath before continuing. “They cater to wealthy clients who don’t mind paying a premium for highly questionable items. Some of the objects they hold are… very powerful if a bit cursed.”

  She paused, watching me carefully, as though gauging if she’d pleased me so far. I gave her a nod.

  “Security is tight, but they rely more on manpower than onwards. They keep their most valuable items behind magical protections, of course.” She finished.

  That was interesting, I hadn’t expected her to know so much about it. I had known the store was wealthy and that they sold artefacts. I also noticed the presence of many wizards and witches hanging around.

  “Good. That will be our target.” I replied.

  Clint stepped forward.

  I noticed everyone eyeing him.

  “My Lord, when shall we head out?” He asked, a determined look on his face.

  I noticed no one else seemed to have a problem.

  “Now,” I responded.