"Then, let it be Frank!" Jack decided the fate of one of his classmates without any hesitation in his little room.
Poor boy, he was supposed to have peacefully spent seven years in Gryffindor alongside the savior Potter.
Bloodman Barrow wouldn't have any opinions; he wouldn't ask why it had to be the unlucky Frank.
Excited, Jack picked up his wand and then cast a shadow spell on himself.
He hadn't mastered the invisibility spell yet; in his world, it was considered an advanced magic. So, Jack had no choice but to blend into the darkness of the night.
He just hoped the Muggle wouldn't discover him.
Although Jack wouldn't mind killing another caretaker, disposing of a school staff member was obviously much more troublesome.
Bloodman Barrow gently pushed the door open, politely allowing his master to exit first.
Nana was thrilled about being able to fly unrestrainedly. Jack whispered, "Darling, don't fly so fast. I mean, oh, I knew you would crash."
Jack watched emotionlessly as his pet crashed into a painting.
The painting was of a snarky lady who complained, "Oh, damn bat! You've dirtied me!"
Concerned the noise here would attract Filch's attention, Jack aimed at the lady and used a silencing spell.
Finally, it quieted down.
Then Jack approached the lady, and to her and the other onlookers within the paintings, he said, "Madam, please forgive my rudeness. But, you have to forget what I've done tonight. You should know, I'm not a soft-hearted person."
Leaving behind a host of threatened paintings, Jack carefully left the Slytherin common room.
Their destination was a high tower, the Gryffindor common room.
The place was bathed in bright sunlight during the day, always brimming with positivity, a suitable place for these little lions.
"Master, let's not go any further. I mean, each house's common room has its unwelcome existence. And we don't even know the password."
Jack surveyed his surroundings, the still armor and statues, the peacefully sleeping paintings.
Everything was so calm. Of course, the password, how could he forget about that.
"Don't worry, he will come out on his own." Jack said coldly.
Bloodman Barrow immediately fell silent; years of experience told him that this young man, though not high in magic rank, always had surprises up his sleeve.
The white wand stood out conspicuously in the dark, a pale blue flame burst forth from the tip, growing brighter and fiercer.
"Soul Connect!"
Jack had cast a spell on Frank the moment he set eyes on him, which was what had made Frank feel chilled to the bone.
Any magician would leave a magical trace on the subject of their spells.
Most of the time, these traces are ignored.
But a few magicians, especially those deeply versed in soul studies like necromancers, know how to make maximum use of these traces.
Like now, Jack could use this faint trace to find Frank's location and control his soul.
The blue flame flickered in the night, shaking but never extinguishing.
This demonstrates the spell caster's control over magic.
Bloodman Barrow cracked an ugly smile, knowing well that his master excelled at controlling magic without a waste.
He had said, magic is a technique.
Nana was boredly flapping its wings but dared not to make any more trouble. If it caused another incident, maybe its young master would consider a bat sandwich? Who knows!
About five minutes later, a boy in pajamas came out. His eyes were closed, his breathing stable, looking no different from sleepwalking.
"Master, let me do it," whispered Bloodman Barrow.
He could see that the spell had drained a lot of Jack's magical power; at least for now, Jack probably couldn't cast an offensive spell.
Jack was not one to overexert himself. He put away his wand, his already pale complexion appearing even more frail. Indeed, spells not of this world consumed a lot of magical power.
Frank was still in his dreams; he didn't even have time to scream before an axe struck his abdomen.
Just when the smell of blood was about to spread, Jack's pupils suddenly turned from blue to white.
And the wand was back in his hand unknown when, a white light shot from the tip, and both Jack and Frank disappeared.
No one noticed the miraculous scene. Bloodman Barrow, with Nana, hurriedly returned to Jack's room.
Thank heavens, Jack was in the room.
"You're back." He said calmly, although he didn't understand what had just happened.
Like how he managed to cast a teleportation spell, knowing full well he couldn't perform such advanced magic.
Recalling the incident, even Jack felt he had been careless.
It seems staying in the Ludwig mansion for too long, he had forgotten all about being cautious. If it weren't for this sudden change, maybe he would have become the first wizard to kill a classmate on the first day of school and then be executed.
"Master, are we starting the experiment now?" Bloodman Barrow smartly avoided the topic.
Jack nodded. He skillfully used blood (of course, Frank's) to draw a strange hexagram on the ground.
Immediately, Bloodman Barrow understood and placed Frank's corpse in the middle of the hexagram.
"Good, the next step is to separate his soul. This is my favorite part because it's what distinguishes a competent necromancer from the fakes! They only know some simple spells, turning corpses into mindless zombies! That's the greatest insult to necromancy!"
Jack became manic, bitter, and arrogant when it came to necromancy.
This was his domain.
"I suppose a student's disappearance would cause quite a stir?" Jack mused, then his trademark sinister smile appeared. "But that's hardly a problem for me! Who am I? I am Jack, an excellent necromancer. Maybe, I can create a zombie that looks exactly like a living person."
Jack cackled, then pulled out a black bag.
Nana excitedly flew up; it knew that bag, brought from home by Jack.
Dead rats? No!
Eyeballs?
A maid's hand?
What materials could he possibly need?
Since there is no contract, 120 chapters have been updated and posted on linktr.ee/freereadingus