Those imprisoned by the "Bone Cage" temporarily lose their freedom. Any attack they attempt is absorbed by the cage and cannot escape through its gaps.
Earlier, when those two wizards were trapped, they resisted desperately. They extended their wands in an attempt to attack Regulus Black, but all their spells were absorbed by the cage.
Of course, if their magical power were strong enough, if their mana reserves were high enough, they would still have a chance to break the "Bone Cage." After all, as a summoned physical entity, it has a damage limit.
But Regulus Black didn't give them that chance. He directly used the skill "Soul Domination" to extract their souls from their bodies, putting them into a near-death state.
The skill "Wailing Spirit" launches a tormented soul at the enemy. Besides auto-tracking the target, once it hits, it inflicts damage on the opponent's soul.
The question, though, is—where does this wailing spirit come from? In the game, it's an innate class skill, effectively unlimited as long as you have enough mana. But in reality, "Wailing Spirits" must be crafted manually.
And now, the souls of these two wizards can be used to create them. Once their souls are refined into wailing spirits, they fall completely into Regulus Black's control.
From this life onward, they are doomed to eternal servitude.
After all, the most unpredictable thing in this world is the human heart. One moment, a man bows his head and yields, the next, he turns and betrays with his head held high. Such things happen all the time. So how can such betrayals be prevented? One way is to establish a robust system that binds all members within it to contribute, but even then, betrayal and negligence can still occur.
The other option is the necromancer's undead legion—absolutely loyal, absolutely reliable, absolutely obedient.
The only drawback is low intelligence. They're only suited for use as cannon fodder in war—though ironically, the more that fall, the more that rise.
Regulus Black's approach was to raise the dregs of wizard society from the ground up, making them part of the Black family's foundation. By refining their souls with undead properties, he could control their lives and deaths while retaining their intelligence. After all, what use are many underlings if none of them have brains?
Looking again at the two trapped inside the Bone Cage, both were now on their knees, souls howling in agony.
"My master, please end the torment of my soul."
"I beg you to spare me. I am willing to do anything for you."
Tears, snot, and drool flowed uncontrollably. The two wizards looked like addicts in deep withdrawal, pleading pitifully.
Regulus Black took a step back indifferently, staring coldly at them—or rather, at their souls.
Their souls seemed trapped in an endless hell, letting out wails of despair, enduring infinite, unrelenting torment.
After a moment of preparation, Regulus Black was ready to shackle them with the final chain.
"Swear loyalty and obedience to the Black family and to me, Regulus Black. Dedicate everything you have to the Black family and to me, Regulus Black. Never betray us! All future commands will be based on this oath. Only then will your souls find peace. Violate any part of it, and your souls will remain in agony."
A contract cannot be perfectly formed in a single step. Those so-called one-step contracts always contain loopholes. The best contracts are those that can be patched and refined over time. All that matters is establishing a solid foundation.
The contract Regulus Black imposed didn't forcibly remove their soul's torment. The suffering caused by the "Wailing Spirit" was the baseline. Once the final binding contract was in place, whether that suffering continued depended entirely on their own will.
Betrayal? Certainly possible—if they could endure the soul's agony. But true obedience from the heart would free them from that pain. The choice was entirely theirs.
"I've made my terms clear. If you accept, you'll no longer feel the soul's pain, and the Bone Cage will open automatically. If you refuse, I don't mind hosting you a little longer. You have plenty of time to think it through. Once you're out, go take a bath and change clothes. Kreacher will assign you your duties."
Regulus Black had no more time to waste on them. Harry Potter had already left with Hagrid a while ago. If he hurried now, would he still be able to catch up?
Especially with the Weasleys and the Malfoys crossing paths—that was a drama no one should miss.
Regulus Black handed the two wizards at home over to Kreacher for supervision, then once again Apparated to Diagon Alley.
"Harry, what were you doing in Knockturn Alley? You know that's not a place you should be."
Hagrid dragged Harry Potter out of Knockturn Alley like he was carrying a baby chick, only letting go of him once they reached the main street of Diagon Alley.
"Hagrid! I'm staying with the Weasleys now, and I messed up the address when using the Floo Powder."
Harry Potter was clearly embarrassed. If he hadn't said the wrong destination, none of this would have happened. He wouldn't have ended up in Knockturn Alley, nor would he have run into Regulus Black. Though the professor had described Knockturn Alley as dangerous, Harry hadn't taken it seriously—at least not until those last ten meters near the exit, which completely overturned his understanding of the wizarding world. He had nearly been kidnapped by some unscrupulous wizards. Even though he was sure the professor was secretly watching over him, at that moment, Harry had no strength to resist. If Hagrid hadn't returned and spotted him just in time, the consequences would have been unimaginable.
There was no denying it—Regulus Black's way of teaching through personal experience was brutally direct and terrifying.
"If someone finds out you were in Knockturn Alley, they might think you're up to no good," Hagrid warned.
Compared to Regulus Black's take on Knockturn Alley, Hagrid's words sounded much more childish—like an adult trying to scare a kid with a story.
"Then Hagrid, what were you doing in Knockturn Alley?"
Harry couldn't help but ask, though his tone lacked firmness—he was still a kid, after all.
"Oh! I was lookin' for a kind of pest repellent. The slugs at Hogwarts are nearly eatin' up all the cabbages!"
Hagrid didn't pick up on any attitude in Harry's voice, assuming he was just being curious.
Sure enough, just like Mr. Black had said, Hagrid was a legitimate visitor to Knockturn Alley—there simply to purchase a specific item.
Comparing Hagrid's explanation with Regulus Black's introduction, Harry developed a new perspective on Knockturn Alley. Whether a place is good or bad really depends on the context. People are the same way.
"Harry Potter! What a coincidence—are you here to buy your textbooks too?"
Harry was spotted by Hermione, who had just come out of a second-hand bookstore, her arms full of bargain books.
"Hey, Hermione! I came with the Weasleys today, and I happened to run into Hagrid."
Harry could sense the distance between them. Hermione, once a close friend, now maintained only a polite facade.
She was no longer the emotionally excitable girl he once knew. She was rational, mature, confident—and just a little bit alluring.
"How are things in Ravenclaw?"
Harry asked shyly, trying to show concern.
"Great. The study environment in Ravenclaw suits me much better."
Hermione wasn't sure why Harry seemed shy, but she didn't think much of it. She still had a few textbooks left to buy.
"Aren't you with the Weasleys? Are you going to find them now? I still need to pick up more books too. Flourish and Blotts was too crowded just now, so I went to some other shops first."
Harry looked toward Flourish and Blotts, which was absolutely packed. The sign at the entrance made it clear—today was Gilderoy Lockhart's book signing event.
Well, it figured. This year's Defense Against the Dark Arts textbooks were the entire series of Gilderoy Lockhart's autobiographical stories.
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