Marvel Magic Case Files

Chapter 1418 Internal Conflict (Part 2)

Laura Crawford didn't take her words to heart; after all, this woman had uttered far too many nonsensical things, and aside from initially warning her to avoid the unseen cleaners, she seemed to have shown no knowledge or ability to leave. She was now more focused on the stories recorded in the files and the hot cocoa brewing in the pot, soon to be made from ice and chocolate. "Would you like some cocoa?" she asked. "Or would you like a bedtime story?"

"Some cocoa, please." The woman sat up immediately. She still hadn't removed her comical blindfold, her two absurd, impressionistic eyes darting around. Although she tried hard to reach for the thermos in Laura Crawford's hand, she seemed to have forgotten how she even managed to get her arm into her sleeping bag. After a struggle, she lay back down on the floor. "And some bedtime stories, please. I love listening to stories."

"This is a horror story that took place in the West Frankish Kingdom and had some connection with the Carolingian royal family. After this event, Otto I, the first Holy Roman Emperor, King of Germany, and head of the Saxon dynasty of the East Frankish Kingdom, was crowned. After the fall of the West Frankish Kingdom, Pope John XII crowned the first Holy Roman Emperor in Rome, making him the Guardian and Emperor of Rome, and the supreme ruler of the Roman Catholic world."

Laura Crawford became enthusiastic when discussing her area of ​​expertise, completely oblivious to the increasingly faint breathing of the woman beside her. "But decades before that, in 911, the last Carolingian king, Ludwig IV, also known as Louis the Child, died. This is the background you must know before telling this story. This story is closely related to Ludwig IV's illness, the conflict between the Papacy and the East Frankish Kingdom, and Ludwig IV's accusation that John XII was involved in heresy, including the real heresy, the protagonist of this story..."

She enthusiastically told the story using the information she had compiled, until the hot cocoa in the pot solidified again, at which point she noticed the woman beside her had stopped moving. She reached out and touched the woman's smooth neck; the icy touch made the woman sit up abruptly, followed by the beeping of a buzzer.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to!" Laura Crawford quickly waved her hands and explained, "I was just too engrossed..."

"It's my favorite TV show time right now." The woman shook her messy black hair, her voice tinged with regret. She pulled her arm out of her sleeping bag, the plastic-cased children's watch beeping incessantly. "I've missed the best time to watch the show again."

"You have a watch? Again?" Laura Crawford decided to try a different approach. "How many times has this watch rung since you came to this place from the closet like in The Chronicles of Narnia?"

"What is the Chronicles of Narnia?" the woman asked curiously. She really didn't know what the Chronicles of Narnia was, nor did she know how similar her way of coming to the library from the cupboard was to the behavior of the Chronicles of Narnia's protagonists, to the point that Laura Crawford began to doubt whether the Chronicles of Narnia was a fact or a story.

"You don't need to worry about that. Just tell me how many times your watch beeped."

"There should be... twelve times!"

"You didn't bring any food or water?" Laura Crawford blinked, somewhat incredulous. She asked again, her expression very serious, even grabbing the woman's wrist to examine the child's watch closely. She couldn't believe that someone could survive in this maze for twelve days dressed so lightly and without any food or water. "Your favorite show probably only airs once a day, right?"

"Yes."

"That's impossible!"

Laura Crawford had barely finished speaking when she caught a strange odor. It wasn't the smell of burnt chocolate; she'd already turned off the alcohol stove. It was a mixture of damp dust, tattered linen, and tears, mingled with gnashing teeth and futile anger—I couldn't possibly smell these things—Laura Crawford realized this and immediately grabbed the woman's wrist, pulling her out of the sleeping bag. She was certain that the ghostly cleaner hadn't been drawn here by the alcohol stove and the conversation.

"Can you handle a demon?" she asked, loading her HK45 as she ran. Earlier, for safety, she had removed the magazine from the .45 ACP pistol in her thigh holster, leaving no bullets in the chamber. After all, a mentally unstable woman lay beside her; basic safety was paramount when out in public. Compared to her, the woman was incredibly frail, and Laura Crawford believed she could gain the upper hand in hand-to-hand combat. Now she regretted it. The silver-coated bullets were incredibly slippery, like they were coated in oil; she had even lost a bullet.

"Or are you not actually a witch?" She led the woman back and forth among the bookshelves. Without any destination, she simply ventured into places where she couldn't smell anything. She frequently looked back to make sure the strange woman wasn't alone. When she finally finished reloading, she and the woman had arrived at a place where even the candlesticks above their heads were extinguished. Huge books stretched straight into the unseen darkness like a barrier, and they didn't even know how high the ceiling was.

"I'm a witch! I just forgot the spell!" the woman cried. "Don't breathe, beware the dust demon!"

"Six-Winged Angel Serum!"

"That's impossible!" Mage Hamil shook his head. He stood at the entrance to the two carved wooden doors, blocking Hammurabi's path. Even though he knew he couldn't stop the Royal Guard, he still wanted to explain something. "Our success rate is less than one percent, and our stockpile is insufficient. This is our closest potion to a panacea; we need a few portions just in case. The mystical families will absolutely not agree to your idea. These six-winged angel serums are life-extending potions second only to First Honey Flower and Red Dragon Wet Mercury. If you use these portions that rightfully belong to them, no matter what power the Venerable One grants you, the mystical families will oppose you."

"Didn't I give them something better?"

"But you didn't give them the real panacea. People are greedy, even sorcerers are no exception."

Master Hamil glanced at Master Xiao Wang beside him. This time, the Sorcerer Supreme had been away from Kamar-Taj for far too long. If the Sorcerer Supreme hadn't handed over power to Salomon before leaving, and if Salomon hadn't then distributed some power to Master Hamil, Master Wu Guiyue, and other close associates of the Sorcerer Supreme, and hadn't arranged for a large armed force to control various key locations in Kamar-Taj, this power struggle would have been far more intense than anticipated, and even a bloody conflict wouldn't have been impossible.

In Kamar-Taj, the only person capable of creating the Philosopher's Stone is Salomon, a level unattainable by anyone else. Even if a sorcerer were to stay by his side and imitate his movements, spells, and recipes, it would be impossible to create the Philosopher's Stone, because alchemy is a technique related to the soul, and no other sorcerer can match his level of spiritual understanding.

Master Hamil knew what this meant.

The Philosopher's Stone fragments found in Paracelsus's Kamar-Taj are also present, as are the fragments created by Salomon in the Immortal City's laboratory. A single comparison is enough to distinguish the two; the latter has progressed considerably on the path of alchemy and arcane magic, unmatched by anyone except the Sorcerer Supreme. However, Salomon couldn't possibly waste all his time creating Philosopher's Stones. The only Philosopher's Stone he truly created independently was Dinah. The other Philosopher's Stones were creations of the aether and precious metals separated from the Reality Stone reacting with his soul. He couldn't possibly pour all his magic into creating elixirs of immortality—there are many kinds of elixirs of immortality in this world, though their effects, methods of use, and urgency differ, their principles are essentially the same, and they are all extremely rare—even Kamar-Taj only preserves one dose of Otkid's Elixir, making the existence of the Six-Winged Angel Serum all the more precious.

"If you're going in," said the mage Hamil, "leave the holy sword outside."

"You know, I can kill them without the Holy Sword."

"It's just a matter of attitude. I don't believe you wouldn't understand such simple political maneuvering," Master Hamil sneered. "Karmar-Taj can connect to the internet. I know the political games you're playing in Latvian. Those business owners are much harder to deal with than those old guys."

Salomon glared at him, but the old man didn't back down.

"Hammurabi, stay outside. Your Majesty, come inside with me."

The monk Hamil stepped aside to make way for Salomon in the doorway to the meditation room. "And your guns, no bloodshed," he said. "At least not until the Supreme Master arrives."

First the first shot, then the second shot.

Laura Crawford then dropped her pistol and backpack, and dragged the woman along as they continued running.

The pistol was useless. Even with the silver bullets, her actions were no different from shooting a swarm of bees with a pistol, even more foolish. What kind of person would think of using bullets to deal with a cloud of gray mist? Laura Crawford shook her head, pulling the woman who was still trying to recall the incantation on her fingers with one hand, while holding the signal flare in her hand. She took advantage of a corner and rubbed the signal flare against a rough rock wall to light it. The red flame suddenly shone brightly, and the thick fog following them suddenly contracted as if pricked by a needle. Her rich experience in adventure made Laura Crawford realize something. She suddenly stopped and thrust the burning signal flare straight into the thick fog.

Laura Crawford recalled her past, her anatomy classes in high school.

When she gently touched the dissected frog with the metal rod, the bioelectricity caused the frog's muscles to contract and its legs to twitch. The scene before her was exactly the same as before; the thick gray fog contracted suddenly, just like the frogs stimulated by bioelectricity. Only now could Laura Crawford see what was hunting them—a gigantic fog, filling every corner from the rough stone floor to the high ceiling—where the fog-like creatures touched the bookshelves, a faint white light emanated, and occasionally static electricity would appear. Laura Crawford felt a chill run down her spine; she didn't know if she was hallucinating, because she saw the appearance of each dust demon.

It was a cluster of countless tiny, invisible extradimensional beings, appearing as a large, dense gray fog. Extradimensional beings had no concept of mass or volume, but powerful extradimensional beings could undoubtedly squeeze more of their spiritual power through the rift between reality and illusion—only those incredibly weak extradimensional beings, those whose life cycles seemed like mayflies to beings in the real universe with its own time scale, would appear as insignificant as dust in the material universe.

"N'okii, no, it's No'ooi!"

Laura Crawford ignored the woman's meaningless incantation beside her. She lunged forward like a fencing swordsman, the red flames shooting straight at the swarm of ashes. "Now, stand behind me," she said, pulling the woman behind her, then slowly retreating towards the thick dust and mist. "Are you sure you remember the incantation?"

"Of course I remember, I'm a witch!"

"You'd better remember, ma'am." Laura Crawford took a deep breath; this was one of the few times they could breathe freely. "Or we're doomed!"

At that moment, a steel statue beside them activated. Laura Crawford had initially thought it was just a decoration installed in the library, but the highly industrial-looking statue strode forward with heavy steps, the giant cannon on its shoulder clicking as it was cocked, its pincer-like arms stretched forward, and the metal barrels of its guns, whose purpose was unknown, emitted a blinding, scorching white light. It charged toward them with a agility that Boston Dynamics robots could not match.

Do you recognize this?

"No!"

"We're doomed!"

As Salomon and the young monk left the meditation room, Hammurabi immediately checked their hands and clothes for blood. Only when he confirmed they looked exactly the same as before did Hammurabi breathe a sigh of relief, and Hammurabi removed his fingers from the power switch of the Guardian Spear. There were no more powerful warriors in the material universe than the Royal Guard, and Hammurabi believed he was capable of storming the meditation room and killing those who opposed the Emperor. However, the Emperor then extended his hand to Hammurabi and took the Guardian Spear into his own grasp.

Master Hamil had originally wanted to ask about the outcome of the negotiations, but now he didn't want to, because Master Xiao Wang's expression said it all. The Spear of the Guard weighed approximately 120 kilograms, the weight of the explosives loaded into the magazine was negligible for the time being, and the Spear of the Guard's blade was designed to cut through armor rather than flesh and blood; no human could withstand such an attack.

"They shoved the madwoman into the library." Little Wang the Mage looked around and, finding no one willing to speak, had no choice but to speak. "What's worse, they've slightly relaxed the library's defenses."

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(End of this chapter)