Oath

"But it really is a good idea. Qilins hate the smell of Dark Magic." Audrey Simic smiled. "But you should know that among all the candidates, you aren't the only wizard who thought of using such little tricks."

"Oh? This?" Nathaniel Calhoun swiftly rolled up his sleeve and showed Audrey Simic a glimpse, then quickly lowered it again. "This is just a simple membership badge. You've probably heard of it—the Secret Society that suddenly appeared and became popular recently."

"You joined?" Audrey Simic asked directly. "Oh, my old friend, I never thought that at your age, you'd still have such a youthful heart, joining some strange Secret Society."

"It isn't some strange Secret Society. It's..." Nathaniel Calhoun paused and said softly, "Voldemort."

"..." Audrey Simic did not answer. She merely raised an eyebrow with an expression that said she had expected as much.

"What did you give up?" Audrey Simic asked. "Or rather, what did you gain?"

"Just... a simple deal." Nathaniel Calhoun spoke lightly. "He wants to become the next chairman of the International Magical Federation. Clearly, like Grindelwald before him, he seems to want to use that position to rally wizards and gather power to fight against... Heh, you know."

Nathaniel Calhoun did not dare say Tierra's name, just as the wizards of the British Ministry of Magic had once not dared say Voldemort's name.

Whether humans or wizards, they had always feared things they did not understand, or things beyond their imagination.

"Mhm." Audrey Simic nodded and took a sip of wine. "In the short term, it means we don't have to worry about sitting in that hot seat. In the long term... heh, it'll keep them busy fighting each other, leaving them no time to bother with small fry like us."

"So, Nathaniel, what was the