The moment she touched the wand, she heard a strange broadcast in her mind.
It wasn’t an illusion.
It was a distorted voice: [Magic item detected, system activated.]
Then, when she returned to the resting place belonging to the Dementors, a piece of parchment appeared abruptly before her eyes.
System Name: Mystra’s Contract
[Name]: To be named (Randomizable)
[Faction]: Neutral Evil
[Race]: Fey/Undead (Incorporeal)
[Class]: None
Core Stats:
[Strength]: 8
[Dexterity]: 18
[Constitution]: 12
[Intelligence]: 14
[Wisdom]: 16
[Charisma]: 18
Capabilities:
[Language Proficiency]: Telepathic communication; Chinese, English, German
[Aura of Despair]: Within a 30-foot range, suppresses the target’s happiness and courage.
Without a Patronus protector, the target will become despondent, suffering disadvantage on attacks and saves.
[Soul Consumption]: Touching a target drains happiness and life force.
[Sunlight Weakness]: Under direct sunlight, perception and attack slightly decrease; minimal resistance to divine or radiant spells.
[Cold Touch]: Melee touch attack, deals cold + necrotic damage, drains the target’s positive emotions.
[Undead Body]: Resistant or immune to non-magical weapons, cold, and necrotic damage; immune to charm, fear, poison, and other control effects.
[Dementors Kiss (Limited Use)]: Extracts the soul from a target without resistance, destroying their consciousness and memories; once per week, causes weakness for 5 minutes after use.
It was color—her first thought was that she could see more than just endless darkness.
There was still a possibility for her to regain her sight.
She was tired of fumbling through learning to communicate telepathically with other Dementors, feeling as if she were walking through ice and snow wearing nothing at all.
And she was like Adam and Eve after eating the fruit of knowledge, completely out of place in the Garden of Eden.
Then, there was the system—she was saved.
In this godforsaken place, she didn’t want to stay in this terrible Dementor shell any longer.
Come to think of it, what the hell was this Mystra’s Contract?
She wondered if it was the handiwork of some evil god or demon, puzzled by what this “Mystra” even was.
But after thinking about it, she was a Dementor now, the evil side of this world, so she felt at ease again.
In truth, she really had no other options.
She tucked the wand into her robes.
Then she planned to find a place without colleagues or overseers to continue slacking off.
Her colleagues wouldn’t care; one less mouth to feed was fine by them.
The overseers wouldn’t dare come to check, and they couldn’t tell the difference between one Dementor and another anyway.
Even if one Dementor went missing, no one would notice.
It was practically the perfect place to slack off and skip work.
She poked the panel with her dried, withered fingers.
Then, a pop-up window appeared.
[Sign contract?
Unnamed (Randomizable)]
[Yes]
[No]
She thought about it carefully again: was there any way in the Harry Potter world to get rid of her Dementor status?
Perhaps only Merlin himself could help her.
She tried to laugh self-deprecatingly, but only managed to expand her so-called Aura of Despair, scaring the prisoners on the floor below half to death.
She clearly felt the fear of those around her.
Well, there was no choice.
She pressed [Yes] directly.
Then a prompt popped up: [Please name yourself: (Randomizable)].
Name herself?
She tried to recall her own name, but for the life of her, she couldn’t remember her past name.
Was it true that after being a Dementor for too long, one forgets even their name?
She had forgotten so many things.
Since she had transmigrated, she would treat it as a new life.
She pressed the dice icon next to the random name generator.
She would leave it to fate; as long as it wasn’t some strange name like Gou Dan or Cui Hua, she would accept it.
Elara—a foreign name, that was fine.
She would go with that.
She was Elara now.
She pressed [Yes] again.
Then Elara saw the words [Contract Established] appear.
There were no other changes.
Aside from this panel and the description of her as a Dementor, it didn’t look like a stat-allocation system.
Elara couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed; she had been hoping for a fun life with a stat-allocation system.
But as Elara reached out to touch the parchment, she noticed it could be put away with a thought, dissolving into light particles that entered her head.
She touched her empty cranial cavity—did Dementors even have brains?
She took the parchment out and waved it in front of other Dementors, and even in front of prisoners; clearly, only she could see it.
Was that it?
Surely there weren’t any hidden clauses commonly used by devils in the patterns, right?
She checked it carefully, but there weren’t any.
The parchment was dry and hard, though.
She snuck into the cell of a high-security prisoner and swiped him with it.
There was no reaction.
She could confirm it: to others, it had no physical form.
She discovered there was actually a list on the back, and upon closer inspection, it turned out to be a shop.
She flipped the Mystra’s Contract over.
It was densely packed with a vast number of spells stacked together, each with a rough description and casting requirements.
Clicking “purchase” brought up a confirmation window.
However, she had no money to buy anything.
And it seemed to require corresponding class levels.
Her current class was “None”; perhaps being a wizard counted as a class.
Why didn’t they give a jailer a class?
That was discrimination.
Still, she patiently examined the shop on the parchment.
It sold a vast array of spells, categorized by level from one to nine.