"What's wrong, Professor Quirrell? Why are you suddenly sweating so much? Are you feeling unwell somewhere?"
Ethan suddenly stepped closer to Quirrell.
A hint of malice flashed in his cobalt-blue eyes, reflecting his Defense Against the Dark Arts professor's sweaty, pale face.
"Go ask that child... Go ask him why he wants to learn the magic of soul separation... Ask him now!"
Quirrell jolted.
The furious and urgent voice in his mind whipped his spine like an iron lash, making him tremble all over.
Quirrell swallowed hard.
Staring at the handsome boy in front of him, who looked concerned, he inexplicably felt a sense of horror.
It was like looking at a monster in human skin.
Though its appearance was humanoid, inside, it was filled with things that were impossible to comprehend!
Too bizarre, too strange!
Why did this boy, with just one sentence, infuriate his great master so much?
What unknown secrets did this first-year student, who should have known nothing, actually know?!
"S-soul separation magic?"
Quirrell really started to stutter, forcing out an ugly smile.
"W-why are you asking about this? This is very evil Dark Arts..."
Ethan tilted his head, that wicked smile quickly flitting across his lips, leaving only pure innocence and purity.
"Evil?"
"I just want to study Living Paintings, that's all. Is that very evil?"
Ethan blinked his round blue eyes.
Thanks to his age and looks, he knew this move was extremely effective.
Especially effective on older females.
Also especially effective on males of certain professions.
Every morning when he washed up, Ethan would find himself adorable.
—Damn! This face is really immersive.
Hehe.
"[Ethan uses Cute Attack, do you choose to believe?]
[Yes → Meow]
[No → Cong￥&…%]
—[Yes]"
Quirrell naturally didn't see these strange things.
All he saw was a pure and innocent Ethan.
This gradually calmed Quirrell's rapidly beating heart.
In his mind, there was a long silence.
Finally, a new command came:
"...Let's leave it at that for now."
Lord Voldemort instinctively felt that Ethan was toying with him.
But he had no proof.
...This first-year brat couldn't possibly know about "Horcruxes."
Even he, the great one, only learned about them in his upper years.
How confident Lord Voldemort was.
He was an existence above all others.
Everyone else was a humanoid troll, only he was a rare genius!
Achieving more and knowing more than him at the same age?
Impossible.
Absolutely impossible!
Thinking of this.
Lord Voldemort relaxed.
He even found himself a bit ridiculous for reacting so strongly to a keyword just now.
"Since it's about painting research, you should assist him to the best of your ability..."
His voice was hoarse, like the struggle of a dying person.
Quirrell felt his weak master had fallen back into slumber.
He couldn't help but let out a sigh of relief.
He looked up and saw Ethan staring intently at him, waiting for his answer.
Ethan: ◉ ᴗ ◉
"..."
Caught between two fires.
Quirrell felt like he was about to lose it.
"Th-that, Vincent. I'm not particularly familiar with Living Paintings yet, I need to go research them first—"
"It's okay." Ethan interrupted Quirrell's stuttering, saying cheerfully, "I know."
Quirrell: "Ah?"
You know? If you know, why are you asking me?
Ethan: "Firstly, I need to borrow the books 'False Souls and True Memories' and 'Living Painting Creation Process,' and learn the spells used within them."
"By the way, they're both in the Restricted Section. You'll need to write me an approval note."
Quirrell: "O-okay..."
Sounds easy enough, it's just teaching spells anyway.
Ethan: "Secondly, I need ten bundles of unicorn tail hair, a barrel of moonstone powder, a barrel of dragon blood, ceremonial mistletoe..."
Listening to Ethan list several items like a menu.
Quirrell understood.
He had relaxed too early.
Ten "bundles" of unicorn tail hair?!
He had never heard of unicorn tail hair being measured in "bundles" before!
Had the magical world secretly evolved without his knowledge?!
So he's coming to me for supplies then!!!
If it weren't for Lord Voldemort's command, Quirrell would want to hit this ignorant brat with a Cruciatus Curse right now.
Then.
Thinking of the towering presence of Dumbledore above him, Quirrell became even calmer.
However.
He couldn't let go of the anger from being toyed with.
"You need quite a few things... Are these all materials for Living Paintings?"
Quirrell said slowly, his voice suddenly becoming hoarse.
He leaned in, looking directly into Ethan's eyes—
Legilimency!
Whoosh!
Quirrell's eyes glazed over.
—Red, an overwhelming flood of red.
Quirrell heard the surging sound of tides in his ears, blood-red waves constantly lapping at his feet.
And above, and in front, seemingly far away yet also close at hand.
Quirrell saw a mountain of flesh.
It squirmed, wailed, and constantly transformed.
Countless flowing faces within it seemed twisted by extreme torment, yet also seemed to revel in it.
"Ah, ah... Ah hahahaha!!!"
When Quirrell came to, he realized that he had been lying on the ground, laughing uncontrollably, at some unknown point.
And Ethan stood to the side, silently watching him go mad.
His cobalt-blue eyes, seen against the light, revealed how cold they truly were.
It reminded Quirrell of those Muggle doctors who would cut open their patients.
What did he just see?
Merlin! Was that something a young wizard, a human, could conceive of?!
Since Quirrell had willingly become Lord Voldemort's vessel, he rarely invoked Merlin.
But now, Quirrell involuntarily murmured it several times.
He didn't even realize it himself.
"I assume."
Ethan's polite voice sounded, making Quirrell shiver violently and look up at him in terror.
"Were you just using Legilimency on me, Professor Quirrell?"
"N-no—I just, I just wanted to know about those materials—"
"Are you trying to plagiarize my ideas and inspiration?"
Ethan looked at Quirrell with condemnation.
Quirrell: "..."
Who wants to plagiarize your inspiration!!!
At this moment, Quirrell felt like he was about to be hit by a strong man, only for the strong man to pull out a hotel room key instead.
You might as well punch me.jpg
But Ethan clearly had no intention of letting him off the hook.
In fact, Ethan had always wanted those who didn't understand him to use Legilimency on him.
To directly see his truest thoughts in his mind, and feel his most genuine desire for art.
That way, everyone could get along, right?
Instead of screaming and chasing him out of the art studio.
Peace and love~♡
So, Ethan's expression softened, like a patiently guiding teacher, and he said:
"It's alright, Professor Quirrell. I know you suspect I want to get supplies from you. How can that be suspicion—ahem, how can that be the truth?"
"They are indeed essential for making Living Paintings."
It's just that for error tolerance and practice, the quantity is a tiny bit much.
"How about this, it seems you haven't yet understood my pursuit of art."
"What you just saw was my new inspiration—'Mountain of Tormented Flesh.' I'm considering integrating it with Living Paintings."
"Now!"
Ethan suddenly reached out and grabbed Quirrell's shoulder, his eyes sparkling with excitement.
"Tonight, let's discuss the topics of love, death (souls), and art together! It'll be perfect for increasing my knowledge of soul magic."
"I, I don't—"
"After all, Professor Quirrell wouldn't want Headmaster Dumbledore to know that you used Legilimency on a weak, pathetic, and helpless young wizard, would you?"
---
Support me & read more advance & fast update chapter on my patreon:
pat reon .com/windkaze