Marvel Magic Case Files

Chapter 1141 An Unfair Duel (First Update)

This mission was the happiest Salomon had had in a long time.

Out of a sense of responsibility, he also used his prepaid phone to call an ambulance and provided basic first aid to Stephen Strange's injuries from the car accident before stuffing the unconscious man back into the mangled driver's seat. He also carefully checked the fuel tank to ensure the wrecked sports car posed no risk of fire or explosion, and summoned a spirit to roam the area and deal with any potential wild animals, preventing Stephen Strange from losing his life before the ambulance arrived.

After doing all this, Salomon cheerfully whistled as he opened a portal, abandoned the stolen car on the roadside, and planned to go to a barbecue restaurant in Texas to buy some roast pork ribs to take back to his estate in Oxfordshire.

The pleasure he derived from walking down the hillside with an aluminum baseball bat and smashing that unfortunate fellow's hand far outweighed his painstaking efforts to send Wanda Maximov to retrieve the Mind Stone and acquire the industrial aristocracy seat from Wakanda. For someone whose daily life was filled with war, this level of violence was merely a mild act, akin to children playing house in kindergarten. He wasn't some gangster who would find joy in violence; what truly pleased him was that this mission represented the mundane, sometimes absurd and bizarre aspects of his daily life.

The pressures of being Emperor of Latvia, Monarch of the Immortal City, and Mystic of Kamar-Taj were vastly different. These titles, constantly created as his life progressed, and the responsibilities that came with them, gradually tested the humanity he cherished most. Moreover, as a dictator, he had to rid himself of the selfish desires common to humankind to ensure his decisions were rational, fair, and just—only then could he gain support. He was accountable to the system he built, not just to the votes of politicians in constitutional democracies—the latter being so rare that they are written in history books and biographies, even ignoring their heinous acts, such as Churchill's advocacy of poison gas and colonial oppression.

This is the price of the crown. Only after sitting in those positions could he truly understand the pain and burden of the Sorcerer Supreme. Worse still, his crown would grow heavier and heavier, his responsibilities greater and greater, with no end in sight. Those he had saved might even die at his hands because of his ideals, which would have an extremely negative impact on his mental health.

Now that the Sorcerer Supreme has carried the fate of humanity on his shoulders for over a thousand years, it's understandable that he might act absurdly to relax. Constantine has repeatedly reminded him to be mindful of his manners outside of official duties, but Salomon has ignored him. He doesn't want to be bound by so many formalities when dining with his family. Unlike Mordo, he won't constantly demand that the Sorcerer Supreme be mindful of his manners and dignity. He can eat roasted pork ribs with his hands or use a knife and fork as he pleases, even if his hands get sticky.

While Salomon went to pick up his pre-booked barbecue at the restaurant, in the modified medical room of the Skysword Space Station, medical personnel from Mars and the Immortal City, dressed in red and white robes, worked methodically around a dissected human body on an iron bed. Hundreds of robotic arms of varying thicknesses and functions extended from above the parallel operating table to assist the medical personnel in stabilizing the patient's body, examining wounds, suturing blood vessels, cauterizing wounds, and aspirating blood, among other tasks. Several beeping instruments simultaneously delivered medication and nutrients to the body, which was barely clinging to life, while closely monitoring various bodily data and adjusting the delivery efficiency in real time.

Hammurabi, dressed in a white sterile protective suit, stood by and supervised the three-hour surgical procedure.

While others failed to witness the entire gladiatorial contest that took place in the Wakanda palace, Hammurabi observed it all.

"We've already stated that the Fire Knights will appropriately consider Wakanda's suggestions, but that doesn't mean you have command authority." Legion Commander Malcolm was nearly overwhelmed by the endless demands of the petitioning Wakandan nobles and Princess Shuri. The nobles' pleas were irritating him, and Shuri's incessant chatter made him grip the plasma pistol tightly. "The Martian engineers reported that the palace's structural strength is more than capable of withstanding a missile barrage. You have absolutely no reason to prevent us from using missile armored vehicles. If you want to force N. Jadaka to leave the palace, then we must show him that we have the capability to destroy it!"

"If you bombard them with missiles, the noble children hiding inside will die," Princess Shuri said, her voice laced with anger. "Our goal is to protect them, not kill them! If those noble children die, all the Wakandan nobles will hate Latvinia, and they will thwart whatever your master wants to do!"

"That's the Wakandans' mission, not ours. The Fire Knights have only one mission: to carry out the Emperor's will. The Emperor's will is to crush all enemies who stand in our way, even the Wakandan nobles." Legion Commander Malcolm restrained the agitated company commander beside him. His adjutant and the Legion Commander's guards promptly dragged away the company commander, who had activated the Executioner's Axe to execute Shuri, to prevent Aparishia's temper from ruining the diplomatic achievements between Wakanda and Latvinia.

Malcolm tried his best to suppress his bloodlust.

Although he was still at the forefront of the battle, the Wakandans surrendered too quickly. Only a few weapons and battlefields posed a threat to the Fire Knights, and the urban warfare in the Golden City was certainly not one of them. He only felt bored and listless. "We don't care whether the Wakandans saw your brother's duel with N'Jadaka, understand?" The legion commander approached Su Rui, like a lion standing on a cliff looking down. Su Rui could even smell the lingering stench of blood from the gaps in his power armor. "We are now fulfilling your request, so we will do it our way! Note, you only made a request!"

Just as the Infernal Knights and Wakanda were locked in a stalemate, Hammurabi, representing the Emperor, delivered a verbal order. This order caused Malcolm to abandon his plan to use missile armored vehicles to launch thermobaric and plasma missiles, and instead ordered the Infernal Knights defending the perimeter to take their stockpiled individual magazine missile launchers and fire thermobaric missiles at the palace.

After a barrage of fire, the Wakanda royal palace lost its former glory.

Precious pigments that hadn't faded for centuries and thick stone walls were blackened by the fuel, revealing robust vibranium supports. The sturdy tempered glass was shattered by successive shockwaves, and all the plants in the palace courtyard were instantly reduced to charcoal and then blasted to ashes. Those who died from the heat were lucky; the thermobaric bombs blanketed the palace in scorching heat, rapidly consuming all oxygen, and burning everything flammable. Those unfortunate enough to be caught in the negative pressure were crushed alive; even those at a sufficient distance would suffocate. Only the luckiest survived.

After the explosion, N. Jadaka invited T'T'Challa into the still-warm palace courtyard for a gladiatorial duel. Although no one was allowed to spectate, Hammurabi used his superhuman agility to sneak into the courtyard and witness the entire event. He described it as anything but a fair fight; his portable extradimensional energy indicator displayed an astonishingly high-peak energy waveform, indicating that T'T'Challa was not fighting solely based on strength and skill.

The artifact used by the Royal Guard appears simple in structure, resembling a compass, but its interior is intricately engraved with numerous micro-reliefs and prayers invisible to the naked eye in silver. It is a handcrafted artifact, painstakingly carved by a blind ascetic from Kamar-Taj over a decade using extremely fine steel needles. The external electronic device displaying the data was manufactured by the Immortal City's research department and is equipped to those lacking a second sight or sixth sense to detect supernatural forces.

Hammurabi was certain that a spirit was helping him win without his knowledge, T'Challa himself.

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(End of this chapter)