Marvel Magic Case Files

Chapter 1519 The Lunar War (Part 31)

Derrick's eyes did not focus on the spot where the light shone from the shadows of the corridor.

But thousands of combat training sessions, blindfolded close-quarters combat, and a wealth of combat experience have enabled the Royal Guard to lock onto targets without visual contact. While the ghastly green light piercing the air still illuminated the gloomy, ashes-filled space, the explosive grenade, propelled by the exploding air, spun out of the chamber. The miniature rocket booster ignited immediately, the gyroscope stabilized its trajectory, and the grenade, trailing a fiery exhaust, plunged straight into the darkness—until the distant light of the explosion illuminated the corridor. Only then did Derrick begin to survey his surroundings, remaining vigilant—he caught a glimpse of a blurry figure in the center of the explosion's flash, indicating that the enemy had been directly hit by the grenade. The warhead had detonated; no organic life form without a carapace exoskeleton could withstand the instantaneous temperature of the fusion core—even steel would evaporate and melt.

He did notice the unusual golden glow that appeared before the spell hit the power armor.

Derrick wasn't surprised; it wasn't the first time he'd witnessed this. The genetic alchemy bestowed upon each member of the Royal Guard by the Emperor wasn't merely physical genetic engineering. Sorcery inexplicably weakened before the Royal Guard; the lethal energy and projectiles of energy weapons and ballistic weapons inexplicably deflected. In practical terms, this manifested as each Royal Guard member possessing extraordinary luck and opportunities; some gifted individuals could even see a dazzling golden aura surrounding them. The Royal Guard couldn't explain how the Emperor influenced the material plane; the underlying principles required reading an entire library of profound treatises on the soul to even begin to grasp.

If it could be explained in words, it could be explained as the emperor's power repelling external dimensional energy. However, every member of the Imperial Guard knew that such a barren vocabulary, which could be understood and described by the ordinary human brain, could not explain the truth, just as they could not describe the colors of the sky and the sea to a born blind person, nor could they explain how beautiful the colors of Van Gogh's "Sunflowers" and "Starry Night" were.

Derrick maintained his original pace and moved forward slowly, pointing the blade of the Guardian Spear diagonally downwards.

Seconds later, with lightning speed, he swung his blade from below, the crackling tip slicing through a thick gray shadow. The attacked canine gray shadow barked beyond the range of normal human hearing, its severed body instantly healing before lunging at Derrick. The Royal Guard drew his molten pistol, pulled the trigger, and a blinding flash of heat illuminated the space around him, completely melting the canine gray shadow's body in the real world. This creature, nearly as tall as a man, had blurred boundaries; even to the Royal Guard's electronic eyes, its body blended seamlessly with the surrounding air, its translucent form emitting wisps of smoke.

Without wasting time, he rushed towards the predetermined path. More canine shadows emerged from the unseen, beyond-three-dimensional shadows, chasing after Derrickson's footsteps, spreading frost beneath their silent stomping—the nightmares of fairy tales, the kind that only appear in the stories told by old women, hiding under the dark beds of every terrified child, bared their fangs, their lifeless eyes, like those of the dead, greedily gazing at the material universe composed of microscopic particles, filled with thirst for the living—Derrickson pulled the trigger behind him as he ran forward. He had heard of these strange creatures existing between the dimensions of illusion and reality, witnessed the emperor's psionic scholars dissecting and taming them, and knew that certain important locations in the Immortal City were guarded by these creatures.

Extreme light and heat are the common weaknesses of both material universe life and extradimensional life. Separating matter from the atomic and even quark level would completely dismantle the material foundation that transcends extradimensional and real planes, just as burning flesh and crops symbolizes sacrifice in ritual. The burning of shadow hounds by molten light is a reverse sacrifice that moves from the real dimension to the extradimensional.

The trains on the tracks shook the city, including the giant tower made of steel and rock.

The entire passageway was illuminated by the light emitted from Derrick's molten weapon, and the unprecedented localized heat instantly dried out the slightly damp walls and ceiling. The emaciated creatures that had been parasitizing the corners of the spire, such as insects and small mammals, had been enjoying the soft, bloody food falling from the sky, but the continuous turmoil forced them to flee their original habitats. The sudden heat radiation and the blinding white heat currents that stretched across the sky instantly dried them out, and then they were completely buried by the molten steel and rock.

The indescribable stench and toxic fumes from burning materials made the environment even worse. Derrick strode into what was once an impregnable fortress, where all he saw was a dim, cold light. Even the molten brass and steel doors, radiating heat that seemed to distort the air, couldn't warm the surrounding chilly atmosphere. A thin layer of pale gray, opaque frost had formed on the reliefs of the golden power armor, but the power armor system didn't sense the low temperature from the outside, as if the frost didn't exist at all.

Derrick felt the cold first, an icy chill that seemed to emanate from the depths of his soul. Even if one didn't believe in the concept, one could understand the kind of cold that disregarded matter. Several missiles, gleaming with brilliant light, pierced through the bookshelf and hurtled straight at him. He tried to dodge, even using his Guardian Spear to attack, but the flashing missiles still struck him like heavy hammers. The immense force instantly sent him flying. At the last moment, Derrick twisted his body, using his shoulder armor to absorb the maximum impact and deflecting a bomb towards a corner. Even as he was thrown back, he remained conscious, unlike ordinary people whose vision blurred and minds stopped functioning due to the violent shaking.

The bomb was detonated, and using the blurry figure illuminated by the instantaneous flash of the explosion, Derrick located his target first.

As he tumbled to his feet after landing, before the next attack could arrive, he endured the chilling cold of unleashing his soul and the agonizing impact to his shoulder that nearly tore his joints and servo motor apart. He immediately leaped from between the massive bookshelves, heading straight for a corner of the giant library—a relatively short Chimilian mutant wizard, concealed by a blur of colors, calmly awaiting the arrival of the Royal Guard. He looked at Derrickson, his long, narrow face, a bizarre blend of an anteater and a horse, filled with an expression incomprehensible to humans. Even as the edge of Derrickson's spear pierced the air before him, so close that the ozone fumes were almost tangible, the alien wizard's face remained etched with mockery.

It extended a finger, precisely blocking the path of the Guardian Spear's blade. An invisible barrier, appearing and disappearing under its chanting, rendered the blade futile, hovering in mid-air after striking it. It seemed to want to say something in the language of the Kree Empire, but Derrick first simply gripped the Guardian Spear's shaft with one hand, pointed the muzzle downwards, and fired a shot near the wizard's feet. Taking advantage of the wizard's startled state, distraction, or even the possibility of being injured by hot shrapnel, he drew his molten pistol and pulled the trigger at the wizard.

Black Bolt nodded, stroking Tetanus's head. Ever since arriving at the Chimerian Clan's settlement, the activated shield had made Tetanus very uncomfortable. It instinctively sensed that teleportation here was dangerous; moving between the inside and outside of the shield was extremely perilous. Although it couldn't speak, Tetanus tried its best to convey its thoughts to Black Bolt. It needed to warn the Attilan Clan forces gathered at the train's engine not to attempt to teleport from the settlement to the outside or vice versa.

“We know, tetanus. Actually, we’re smarter than you, or rather, I’m smarter than you,” said the Centaurus clan’s electromechanical expert. He turned to the Chimerian clan mutant beside him. “What happened in your settlement?” He glanced at Black Bolt, who gestured for him to continue. “That tower is still lit. Should we go check it out? I suggest we do. That tower is too suspicious; we need to lock it up in the interrogation room.”

“That’s the Wizard’s Tower. Every mother in the Chimilian clan warns her children to stay away from it,” the Chimilian mutant said grimly. “There are rumors that the Wizard’s Tower takes children from various clans in Attilan. I don’t rule out that this is some kind of children’s frightening fairy tale, but some information I’ve come across suggests that many people have disappeared from the Wizard’s Tower, yet the clan’s royal family has been unable to find any evidence. Matriarch Onomi…”

Black Bolt waved his hand, indicating that he would not pursue the matter of Matronium's escape at the very beginning of the war. It now seemed that Matronium might have sensed that a certain force within the clan had ulterior motives, and that activating the ancient starship might not have been to escape the invaders.

"The settlement has lost power, but that's the only place with lights on. If you ask me, those wizards are highly suspicious now. This certainly wasn't an order from the clan's royal family, was it?"

The mechanic touched Tetanus's drooping neck, its nictitating membranes blinking rapidly. In fact, its modified communication equipment had received some vague messages, seemingly related to Mother Medusa. The mechanic judged from the man's anxious tone that it was bad news, but it didn't inform Black Bolt, pretending not to hear. Any Inhuman who could join this group held the belief of "I am an Attilan," not a particular clan, and would dedicate everything to Attilan if necessary. It did this simply to avoid distracting Black Bolt; it could learn more about other issues after the Chimerian clan's problems were resolved.

"Your Majesty, we may need your expertise," the mechanical expert said. "If necessary, only you are capable of dealing with those wizards. Have you ever witnessed witchcraft?"

Black Bolt nodded.

After leaving the station, the clan's special forces team navigated through layers of lifeless, pale, gray-white residential buildings that resembled enormous, lifeless corpses, finally arriving at their destination with the help of a guide. They had conducted thorough reconnaissance along the way, but could find no trace of the residents.

The central spire of the Chimerian clan settlement, being the only illuminated building, should have been the perfect place for them to find their way. However, the scene before it took them by surprise. There they found the missing Inhumans. A large number of Chimerian mutants were huddled together, wandering aimlessly like headless flies. The tower's entrance was charred black, littered with severed limbs and corpses resembling tightly clenched juice bags. Many more Chimerian mutants were desperately pushing their way into the tower, while others, clutching their wounds, wandered aimlessly in the plaza before the entrance, seeking help from others.

Many cries for help rose from beneath the crowd's feet, growing fainter and fainter. Without hesitation, Black Bolt gestured for his soldiers to restore order, even though it wasn't their forte. The tuning fork above Black Bolt emitted gentle sound waves, gradually calming the panicked crowd and even causing them to lose consciousness, preventing them from harming themselves again due to fear and pain, while also ensuring that the victims of the stampede received timely assistance.

"What happened here?"

The Chimilian clan mutants in the clan alliance immediately seized one of their least wounded kin for questioning. However, the mutant's answer was unsatisfactory. They could not explain why they were standing before this terrifying spire, nor how they and the others had been injured, nor could they comprehend what had happened in the settlement. It was as if they were experiencing a bizarre dream, one that they could not fully awaken from even now.

But the current situation allowed the clan alliance to immediately lock onto their target; no one but the wizard could do such a thing. As for why the wizard would do this, Black Bolt didn't understand, but he believed he could find the answer himself.

Black Bolt made a few gestures, and the Centaurus clan's electromechanical expert immediately raised another question.

"How's the situation inside?"

Nobody knows. Nobody knows what happened inside the spire. Ever since the first group of conscious Chimilian mutants escaped the spire, no one has gone inside again. The survivors' accounts are varied and contradictory, making it impossible to form a unified answer. Some say that wizards are performing evil rituals inside, some say that wizards are fighting the shadows, some are filled with resentment towards everything that has happened, and some are grateful to the wizards, believing that they are protecting the civilians.

Please vote for me!

(End of this chapter)