Marvel Magic Event Book

Chapter 1744
Today is undoubtedly the busiest day Kamar-Taj has had since the beginning of the 21st century. Climate change triggered by the horrific supernatural phenomena in the North Atlantic is already a major headache, and the culprits' promises to "bring things under control" are utterly empty rhetoric. Stephen Strange does not believe that actions leading to massive humanitarian disasters and species extinctions are being mitigated.

Due to severe sleep deprivation and depletion of magical energy, Stephen Strange harbored deep resentment towards the Lord of Kamar-Taj and the Allfather, whom he should have revered. He felt as if he had returned to the days when he was in medical school and longed to spend time in the library.

Back then, he could still use Ritalin, Adderall, and Modafinil, but in Kamar-Taj, only ascetics from the Indian subcontinent were allowed to smoke marijuana, herbs they considered merely recreational. This was because ascetics needed mental stimulation and used all their life and soul as a filter; mystics were forbidden from using such drugs, and even if Stephen Strange could get a prescription, he couldn't possibly bring the drugs into the Himalayan headquarters or any of the temples.

"At least they didn't blow up the planet, did they?"

The young mage was still laughing, an attitude that angered Stephen Strange. Although he didn't have to maintain the planetary defense system with the other mages, the burden of using the Eye of Agamotto was still heavy. Seeing the young mage's radiant appearance, Stephen Strange was furious.

"Is this good enough?" he said angrily.

“I told you, if they wanted to, they absolutely could. Otherwise, why do you think we would need to learn magic like Mirror Dimension? Now that it’s over, the troubles of Asgard are back in Asgard, and we can handle the rest.”

"What news did you hear from Master Hamil this time?"

"It's nothing, we just have work again."

Stephen Strange shook his head. "I think it's time to leave work, Wang."

“Unfortunately, we need to clean up this mess immediately.” Master Wang took out his phone, opened Twitter, and handed it to him.

A video circulating on Twitter shows a person filming from the violently rocking surface of a fishing boat. The powerful lights on the boat could only capture images of the sea surface about two kilometers away. Everything seemed unremarkable until the very end of the video, when the person filming looked up and froze—and as the camera panned, others saw it too—just a few dozen meters away in the dark sea, hundreds of meters high waves stood frozen in place, unaffected by gravity.

This was an absolutely real video; the fishing boat's high beams could even illuminate the water behind the waves, revealing the motionless fishing boat and a corpse within the waves. The person filming was terrified, and the video ended. Stephen Strange sighed in despair; he now desperately missed the not-so-soft bed in his room, a bed he might never see again for the next twenty hours.

"What kind of magic is this? I've never heard of such spells in the library!"

"It's nothing. At their level, they're no longer bound by spells; what they think and say becomes reality. The Sorcerer Supreme also has this ability, you just haven't seen it." Master Wang took back his phone and looked at the news. "The Danish government estimates that at least 4 people haven't been evacuated yet. I wouldn't be surprised if these people become food for extradimensional demons."

"Why do I have to participate? I'll return the Eye of Agamotto right now!"

"Your father believes you have great talent, and the Sorcerer Supreme was right. If you can witness the spellcasting art of the Lord of Kamar-Taj, it will greatly benefit your future. In addition, there are no working hours in Kamar-Taj, so there are no off-hours either."

“I’ve experienced the so-called art of spellcasting firsthand, and all I want to do is get a good night’s sleep!” Stephen Strange gritted his teeth, his bloodshot eyes glaring, his expression stiff, like a white-collar worker who received a weekend time-out notice, worked overtime for two consecutive days, and then heard news a week later that he would have to work overtime again today.

“I’m the only one in the entire Kamar-Taj who remembers this!” he said bitterly. “It’s worse than a medical school final exam!”

The sorcerers acted quickly, and Stephen Strange received his business trip bag ten minutes later.

This is the standard travel bag the Immortal City prepared for its sorcerers. Besides toiletries and a survival kit, it includes a pistol and a combat dagger as last-ditch defense. Notably, several of the bags can be disassembled to form a simple tent, making it quite versatile. However, Stephen Strange believes the Immortal City's good intentions are destined to be wasted, because their destination isn't the Faroe Islands but Norway.

Because a large-scale, high-intensity psionic anomaly had occurred at the target location, causing spatial and temporal disturbances and other anomalies in the Faroe Islands, the arcane mages were unable to directly open a portal to the mission location. They had to first travel to Norway, departing from Oslo and taking a helicopter to the waters near the Faroe Islands. Kamar-Taj had prepared a Sikorsky S-92 at its private airport there, which could easily accommodate the arcane mages on their business trip. This helicopter was purchased by the current ruler of Kamar-Taj. In the past, the Sorcerer Supreme wouldn't have cared whether they traveled by boat or helicopter; even if they rode donkeys, they would still have to arrive on time.

Oslo is a large city, and the Kamar-Taj Himalayan Temple has a portal leading to Oslo.

After repeatedly confirming that the constant portal was unaffected, the mage Hamil selected fifteen arcane mages to stand behind him, intending to pass through the portal one by one. However, as soon as the wooden door was opened, a fierce wind and torrential rain blew into the temple from the other side of the portal, and within seconds the water was above the mages' ankles. "Alright," the mage Hamil slammed the door shut and shrugged, "Put on your raincoats. The rest of you, prepare to clean up. No magic allowed."

The environment in Oslo was quite terrible. Even through his raincoat, the heavy rain still hurt Stephen Strange. The howling wind made the instructions of the mage Hamil unclear. Although the mages were less than a meter apart, they could hardly see each other.

Strange gripped the young mage's arm tightly, hoping that the young mage and his weight would save him from being blown away by the gale. "Ugh... spit!" He had barely opened his mouth before spitting out the rainwater that had filled it. He shouted in the young mage's ear, "How long... spit... will we be able to... spit..."

"I don't know what you're talking about!" Little Wang the Mage said, head bowed, practically sprawled on the ground, struggling against the storm with all his might. The rusty smell of rainwater filled his nostrils with every breath, making him feel as if he were sinking into water rather than standing on land. Worse still, the rain, likely from melting snow, was rapidly drawing away his body heat; even with a thick layer of fat for insulation, Little Wang couldn't help but shiver.

“Follow ahead!” he shouted, a voice that sounded to Stephen Strange as if it were coming from underwater.

Fortunately, the constant portal to the Himalayan temple is not too far from the destination.

It took about half an hour for the group of arcane mages, shivering and clad in black raincoats and soaked clothes, to squeeze into the garage of the Kaecilius family's residence, wringing out their battle robes. Only after the indifferent-looking mage Hamil gave permission did the almost tearful mages cast spells to dry their clothes. Instantly, a thick layer of steam filled the garage, obscuring even the white light bulbs emitting overhead.

"I'm sorry, Deacon Hamil." Casillas apologized somewhat awkwardly to his superior as he handed the mages hot tea. "Sheila doesn't know yet."

“It’s nothing,” said the mage Hamil calmly. “How is she now?”

“The soothing magic granted her undisturbed dreams, where the monsters couldn’t harm her. She worried all night, fearing the tsunami would engulf the fjord, and didn’t go to sleep until morning,” Casillas said. “In this weather, no one can tell it’s morning.”

“That’s good. Sheila is a good girl. You need to decide quickly whether to let her know the truth. You know our rules; erasing someone’s memory isn’t difficult.” Mage Hamil patted Casillas on the shoulder. “You know our mission. Tell me, how’s the situation?”

"The situation isn't good." As mentioned earlier, the physical universe and outer dimensions can be understood as layers of paper stacked together. Each constant and each concept is a curtain covering the physical universe, and these stacked sheets together form the world in which humanity lives. However, these sheets are not unbreakable. Gungnir, used by the Allfather, can pierce the barriers between the layers, causing a portion of reality to be completely destroyed. The Emperor's holy sword and holy spear can do the same.

The Holy Lance, in particular, is a divine weapon that nails paper to the real world, and it can also easily tear apart these paper forms that define reality. The more paper it pierces, the thinner the veil between reality and illusion becomes, and the outer-dimensional spiritual entities no longer need the physical universe to provide a large number of souls to easily drill a hole in the veil.

The portal to Kamar-Taj is essentially a hole through a sheet of paper, drilling through a weak point in the curtain. The result is that the portal goes out of control and throws passengers into some unknown dimension. No sane arcane mage would choose to open a portal in such a place.

Specifically, the Faroe Islands are gradually falling into outer dimensions, where scalar (such as mass, density, temperature, work, energy, distance, etc.) and vector (displacement, velocity, acceleration, force, torque, momentum, etc.) concepts may be becoming blurred. Seawater may boil at extremely low temperatures, and the air may become metallic heavy. The planetary defense system has confined this anomaly to a 50-kilometer radius around the Faroe Islands, but it cannot prevent the overflowing energy from churning the North Atlantic, affecting monsoons and ocean currents.

The planetary defense system prevented the worst from happening, but the work of the arcane mages is still needed.

“The whole of Norway is under a state of emergency right now. Traffic in the cities is jammed, and power hasn’t been restored yet,” Casillas said. “You can see the city from here. That red fog is actually the taillights of cars. Most Norwegians are running outside. In this weather, your helicopters simply can’t take off. Even if the pilots wanted to, the airport wouldn’t approve our flight route application.”

“What did Victor von Doom say?” asked the mage Hamil.

Casillas shook his head, pointing to an ancient vibrator on the table, its base dangling ink-stained gems, resembling an old-fashioned earthquake monitoring device that only appears in museums. "The entire city of Oslo is without power right now. If it weren't for Starlink, I wouldn't even be able to get online. Victor can only contact me through magic. He told me the battle is over, and that the arcane mages of Kamar-Taj need to cast a spell to seal the veil, preventing extradimensional spiritual entities from entering. Nobody knows what's happening inside… He thinks we have to abandon the information concealment work; without the Emperor's permission, we can't perform large-scale memory erasure magic."

“I don’t care about that.” Master Hamil frowned, his tone somewhat urgent. “How is he? Is he injured?”

“I don’t know either,” Casillas sighed. “Victor didn’t say anything.”

"The Supreme Master kicked him out because he was unreliable!"

The expression on Master Hamil's face frightened even Young Master Wang. As a highly cultivated sorcerer, Master Hamil never lost control of his emotions. Wrapped in a thermal blanket and gradually calming down, Young Master Wang squeezed into a corner of the garage and quietly explained to Stephen Strange why his father had been so angry.

The sorcerer Hamil believed that while Victor von Doom was highly talented, his motivation for learning magic was too utilitarian, and he showed no reverence for forbidden magic. He foresaw that sooner or later Victor would fall into darkness and cause immense trouble. Now, with Victor von Doom acting as regent in place of the emperor to govern Kamar-Taj, the sorcerer was very unhappy, believing that Victor von Doom would eventually make a mess of Kamar-Taj.

Although Mage Hamil wished he could punch Victor von Doom right then and there, he quickly calmed himself and didn't let his emotions cloud his judgment. "Do you have any way to get us to the Faroe Islands as soon as possible?"

"By boat. That's the only way."

"how long it takes?"

"It would normally take two days. But now ships in the Oslofjord can't leave port at all, so you'll have to go to the other port to catch a fishing boat. It will only take one day; the Brotherhood of the Shield's ship can take you there. As for how to break the seal..."

“Make every effort to contact Salomon,” said the mage Hamil. “He is the master of Kamar-Taj, and it is his responsibility.”

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The light of Gungnir gradually faded, and the massive ice sheet, piled up like blades, was now plunged into darkness.

The dead Odin turned into golden specks of light and disappeared.

Salomon walked over, pulled out the artifact that had been briefly preserved, and felt the power residing within the gun, but the mark left by its former owner had vanished. He gazed at the other side of the Blade Ice Cap, where the massive remains of the ancient rune tree lay tilted to one side. The magically formed trunk, branches, and leaves were withering away at a visible rate. In about half an hour, the ancient rune tree would become a fossil, collapsing and shattering under the pull of gravity.

Odin is truly dead, as is Frigga, who provided life for him. They returned to the Sea of ​​Souls, carrying with them the power of Asgard's faith accumulated over tens of thousands of years. In some cultures, Odin and Frigga's current state is called Ascension. Mortal concepts of life can no longer confine them, nor can time and space stop them. They have become some kind of extradimensional beings who retain self-awareness, becoming deities in the truest sense, not just "gods" from mythology.

This is not a good thing, because their existence is inextricably linked to the faith of Asgard, just like the gods who are constantly born and die in the outer dimensions. Once the faith declines, the gods worshipped will also face true death. If the cycle of Ragnarok begins again, Odin and Frigga would better hide deep within. Perhaps the terrifying predators in the Sea of ​​Souls cannot threaten them, but the gods in the shadows are eyeing the relatively weaker gods with predatory intent. They crave the weaker gods as they crave the souls of mortals.

He planned to return to the Immortal City after some time and reforge the spear in the Soul Forge provided by the fallen angel Rodan—the holy spear given to him by the Sorcerer Supreme had already been given to Constantine, the commander of the Royal Guard. The reforged Gungnir would have a suitable wielder—legend has it that Gungnir is a branch of the World Tree, and this spear cannot be blocked; once thrown, it moves as fast as lightning and a meteor—the wound on Salomon's abdomen was caused by Gungnir, but he did not give Odin a second chance to throw the spear.

"Come out, or I'll have to do it." Salomon grabbed Gungnir with his backhand and made a throwing motion.

“My lord, please forgive my insolence. Your radiance is so dazzling, it almost melts me; I dare not greet you under such circumstances.” A man in a perfectly pressed suit emerged from the shadows. He had a handsome face and carried a magnificent silver cane, the tip of which was a coiled serpent. He bowed exaggeratedly to Salomon, his tone sickeningly affected, “I haven’t even congratulated you on regaining your memories yet!”

“A failed experiment, Mephisto.” Salomon glanced at him disdainfully out of the corner of his eye. “What are you doing here?”

“You have hurt me deeply. Wasn’t it your purpose to establish order in that utterly chaotic Sea of ​​Souls? Have we not done enough?” Mephisto maintained a level of politeness that required extreme physical balance. “It is you who are resisting this mission, not us.”

“I don’t think you meet my experimental expectations. Clearly, you couldn’t resist the corruption of the Sea of ​​Souls.” Salomon was too lazy to waste words with it. “Get out of here. You know I can kill you right now. The miniature hell you’ve built can’t protect your soul.”

“I’ll be leaving now. Should I say hello to my mother?” Mephisto smiled and sat up. “Although we’re not related by blood, she was our caregiver when we were still in the test tubes. Do you think she’ll be happy to see us?”

The only response to Mephisto was the hurled Holy Lance. Mephisto vanished instantly, leaving only a fading voice behind: "Now that you have regained your memories, your glory is near. We have always awaited your return to the Seventh Throne."