Blood Pact

"Huh? A genie? As in, like a Djinn?" said Damien. "The kind with the power to whip up tornadoes, firestorms, and make wishes come true?"

Djinn were incredibly powerful and mystical creatures that would have fetched easily half a million dollars, maybe even more if sold to the right bidder.

They were incredibly powerful monsters that commanded fire, wind, or both, and were of course, most famous for having the ability to grant wishes.

This was, however, not entirely accurate.

Djinn were a diverse group of monsters. Some could grant wishes, some could not. Some loved to revel in human suffering, some were neutral, some liked humans, and so on.

'Yep, that's me!' came the peppy reply.

This one, at face value, seemed rather positively inclined to people, though Damien figured he was not much of a human anymore. He wondered why he was not mindless already because lesser Undead like zombies had no real thoughts, but he shrugged it off for now.

The Undead Mind skill, on top of adjusting him to his system, seemed to let him focus well on what was at hand, sharpening his thoughts to what was directly around him instead of letting his mind wander on what ifs and future problems.

For now, if Damien wanted to get into any contract, even in the desperate situation he was in, he wanted to make sure he was getting a good deal, especially after how the last deal he had made had turned out.

'Alright then, tell me what you can do,' said Damien like he was interviewing an applicant for a job. Honestly, though, saving his life, or undeath now, was pretty damn important.

'I can do a ton of things,' said the genie. 'I'm attuned to fire, but fighting is not my thing. Mostly I specialize in making things. Conjuring up objects based on human wishes and desires. Unfortunately, stuck in here as I am, all my powers are sealed.'

'Why are you in this core in the first place?' asked Damien. From what he had heard from the mages before they killed him, this core likely belonged to a Fire Shade, a lower rank ghost type monster that paled in comparison to a proper Djinn.

'I don't know! I don't get why anyone would put someone as cute as me in here!' said the genie. She sighed and then her tone of voice grew more serious. 'To be honest, my memories are pretty hazy. I know I'm just a small soul shard of a much bigger entity, but who I was or why I was broken up, I have no idea. But what I can tell you is that I am ready to be of service!'

'Hm.' Damien thought about this for a moment.

On a sliding power scale going from E to A, then to S and U for outliers, Shades were lower rank ghost type monsters that fell around the E to D range. Djinn, however, ranged from C at their absolute lowest when they were young and immature all the way up to A where even the strongest human mages would have difficulty defeating them.

Most likely, the Shade had eaten the Djinn's soul shard and gotten much stronger and obtained fire based powers, but not strong enough to threaten Lance and his posse.

Meaning this Djinn was probably pretty weak.

Not that Damien had the luxury of being picky. Even a weak Djinn had the potential to grant powerful wishes.

'Okay then, what kind of contract are you proposing here?' asked Damien.

'A Soulbind' said Zara. 'I want to be bound deeply and directly with you. That way, I can get Incarnated and actually walk on my own two feet!'

'Hold up here, a Soulbind is the highest level of a contract between master and familiar. No, at that point, it's a tie between equals. If I die, you die. If you die, I die. And you get absolute freedom,' said Damien.

The deeper a bind between a familiar and a mage, the stronger the familiar could be.

This was especially important for spirits for if they had a solid bind to a physical, living being, then they themselves could Incarnate, obtaining physical bodies.

'How about a tether contract?' said Damien. A tether type contract was the lowest commitment one there was. As the naming suggested, it just established a 'tether' between familiar and mage.

Generally speaking, tethers were weak, so familiars could not move far from their tethered mages and since there was less commitment, the familiar would be weaker too. Tethers were also usually temporary, ending after a time of service to free the spirit.

'A tether? I get it now, you're one of those low commitment guys,' said Zara. 'That's fine, though, that can be kinda hot too in its own way. Lookie here, I truly only want to just have a chance to walk the world again.

In exchange, I can do whatever you want. I can make things for you if you give me the right materials. With a Soulbind contract, I get enough power to grant you three wishes. And as a bonus, if you're into more domestic girls, I can cook and clean pretty well too!'

Damien mulled this over in his head. Soulbind contracts made familiars strong, but it also gave them unlimited freedom. It was a bind with the only condition being that the lives of familiar and mage were not inseparably linked.

This, he was not comfortable enough to give.

'If Incarnation is all you care about, then how about a Blood Pact?' said Damien.

Blood Pacts sacrificed some physical aspect of the mage to incarnate a spirit and in turn restrictions could be placed on the spirit so that they were more obedient to their master.

The greater the body part sacrificed, the higher the power granted to the spirit, but with the proper conditions, there was no risk of the spirit rebelling.

'Oh, right, I forgot about those,' said Zara. 'But what do you want to sacrifice? I wouldn't want you to lose something too big.'

'My heart,' said Damien as he began to wonder if he could game the magic system a bit.

'Your heart!?' said Zara. 'Won't you just die?'

'No,' said Damien. He did not need his heart to function, and it was widely known that a heart was one of the most valuable things to offer in a Blood Pact, usually done in temporary Blood Pacts of desperation to summon some mighty spirit or demon in exchange for rapid heart failure. 'I give you my heart, and with it, you can Incarnate and have some of your powers back. In exchange, I want to place a few conditions on you.'

'Aw, I don't like rules, but okay, go ahead,' said Zara. 'I'm willing to listen to most things as long as they aren't too freaky as long I can get out of this stuffy prison.'

'First: you will not harm me directly or indirectly,' said Damien. This was a no-brainer, but he wondered whether he should add more.

The more conditions one placed on a bound spirit, the weaker the spirit became. The harsher the terms of the condition, the worse this got, so a binding rule like 'you will serve me for all eternity' would dramatically weaken a familiar.

Thus, familiar to mage relationships were just that: relationships. Bonds built off of trust and negotiation, though of course, there were exceptions. 'Second: you will serve me for a minimum term of six months. Third: if you ever feel like breaking this pact because you aren't satisfied by me, then you tell me beforehand so we can talk things out.'

'I have a feeling you won't have much of a problem at all satisfying me,' said Zara with a giggle. 'Okay, those terms sound good enough for me, though six months is awfully short. But they say that compromise is the building block of any solid relationship. Here, I'll start the Blood Pact.'

The black core hugged tight to Damien's chest started to glow red and hum with energy.

'I, Zara, bind myself to you-,' said Zara. She paused. 'Oh, silly me. I never asked for your name!'

Damien paused before he gave out his name. Giving out one's name to certain monsters and spirits, demons in particular, was extremely dangerous because names had power.

They were the 'identification code' that a sentient, magic capable being used to carve their unique existences into the world and knowing someone's name could therefore allow a being to track you down, know more things about you, curse you, and so on.

But in pact like this, with the conditions that Damien had put out, there was little to no risk.

'Yao Tlachinol Wang' said Damien. This was his real name given to him by his Chinese father and South American mother with 'Damien' serving as both a convenient western name and a proxy.

"A very interesting name,' said Zara. 'You must tell me the story behind it one day. But for now, the pact:

I, Zara, bind myself to you, Yao Tlachinol Wang, as your familiar.

I bind myself to you with bonds of blood.

Your heart do you grant to me, and as much of myself do I grant to you.

I accept the blood you offer to me and the conditions you place upon it.

In return, I shall serve you faithfully.'

The core in Damien's arms began to rumble, and the dirt around him shook.

'The pact is now sealed,' said Zara, her voice distorting temporarily with a demonic rumble.

With that, a burst of power exploded out from the core, blowing apart the dirt packed onto Damien and baring him to the surface. He stood up for once, looking at the rocky environment around him and feeling the hot sun above beam down on him.

"Fhinaly" garbled Damien before he spit out dirt from his mouth.

"Finally," said Damien. He looked down at the core in his hands and saw as the red light emanating from it died down, leaving it with its ordinary crystalline black structure. That was when he realized blood pooled down from his mouth, but he felt no pain anywhere.

His heart had been crushed, this, he could tell because he could not feel his heartbeat anymore. He felt perfectly fine, though, and even without blood flow, he could move his body parts with no issue like a Zombie.

That was when Damien noticed that he was not alone.

A ring of massive vultures, each of them almost as big as he was, had formed around him, and their gleaming yellow eyes stared at him with blatant hunger. Their heads were of an angry red shade and their feathers brown and black.

Most noticeable, though, were their talons and beak. They were of a metallic grey shade with the talons curved to sharpness and the beak built heavy like an iron vice meant for grabbing, crushing, and breaking.

These were Ironbeak Vultures. E rank monsters, the lowest there was, but even they could still tear apart a man from limb to limb with little effort.

"Relax, guys," said Damien as the vultures started to close in around him. "I thought vultures ate dead things. I'm not dead yet."

He looked down at the gaping, burnt out hole in his stomach from Lance's fire blast. "Oh right, technically I am."