Marvel Magic Case Files

This phantom was like an old television screen, full of static and noise.

As Constantine spoke with Tita and launched his fierce attack, he also kept an eye on the figure in a dark green cloak adorned with a gold sash. The other guards, guided by Constantine, also noticed this, proving the phantom wasn't an illusion. A large portion of the blasted body fell, withered ribs protruding. The remains then turned to black sand, which, under Catherine's radiance, dissolved into dust and air, just as they were meant to be.

"This is very strange. It's possible it's another trick by the etheric entity, or the influence of etheric energy on the material universe," Constantine said in the Guardian Order's encrypted communications. As super soldiers who had undergone deep genetic modification, they could easily adapt to this abnormal and uncomfortable space. Due to the influence of etheric energy, the buildings here seemed to defy the geometric laws of the material universe. A downward slope could be upward, and what felt like the right side could be the rear side. Visual deception was rampant and completely irregular. Even the ordinary soldiers trained by the Guardian Order to handle logistics would inexplicably trip and fall in this situation.

"Stay vigilant and don't let your guard down just because the other party is using the appearance of a regent."

"That's the Regent, there's no need to doubt it." Catherine suddenly spoke, surprising the Royal Guards. Unless speaking to the Emperor himself, even to the Royal Guards, Catherine was extremely sparing with her words; every word she uttered was crucial intelligence, including the location of the portal. "The Regent accepted the Emperor's orders to help us close the portal."

The commander of the Imperial Guard expressed his doubts.

If he hadn't witnessed the Emperor create/separate/drag Catherine from the void, he wouldn't have trusted her existence at all. The current Catherine was merely a reflection of herself in a dream, as unreal as the moon's reflection in water. Constantine noticed the Sisterhood Commander, Tita, approaching under the cover of armored vehicles. The Royal Guard had penetrated deep into enemy territory, bypassing the ranks of genetically modified warriors. Enemies were crammed in front of them and on both sides; even now, they were still fighting relentlessly, their genetically modified muscles even feeling a slight soreness.

Although the Royal Guards' bodies only need a short time to hydrolyze lactic acid, they couldn't even spare that time and had to order their power armor units to be injected with medication to alleviate the symptoms of lactic acid buildup. The Royal Guard Commander had no doubt that the genetically modified soldiers fighting alongside the Royal Guards had the same symptoms. Their bodies, modified for prolonged combat, had been fighting continuously for hundreds of hours in such high-intensity combat conditions. Apart from a few resupply times, neither the Royal Guards nor the genetically modified soldiers had had a moment's rest.

"Commander Aparishia." The Royal Guard Commander switched communication channels, filtering out the sound of Catherine firing her bomb gun beside him. On such a battlefield, even the Royal Guard's eardrums would be injured without noise cancellation. "I need a squad for the mission."

"Push it over! Cut its head off. Keep firing, we still have a lot of enemies to face. Constantine, I didn't expect you to contact me," Aparishia said dryly. "Did you fall? The deck here is a bit slippery."

"Now is not the time to be humorous, Lord of the First Army."

Constantine glanced instinctively at the soles of his feet. The foul-smelling, dark red, slippery sludge was slowly turning into clear water.

"You actually have a sense of humor. This whole thing is quite funny, Constantine."

The commander of the Royal Guard couldn't help but frown. He couldn't understand why Aparisha would let out such a cold laugh, nor could he understand why the Lord of the First Army would find it humorous. Aparisha had always been known for his gloomy personality, which made Constantine wonder if it was one of the epigenetic traits of Type I. Now, this conjecture had to be supplemented with labels such as a lack of focus.

"You know where the Royal Guard is, Aparishia. Catherine will be with us to the area where the portal is located. The Royal Guard needs an elite squad to form the outer defense line. We have no time, no energy, and no resources to waste. These creatures are virtually inexhaustible, while our ammunition and energy are limited."

"These things shouldn't live."

"Close the portal first; we still have plenty of time to clear out these creatures."

"I'll personally lead a squad," Constantine heard Aparisha's chilling roar as he slammed the heavy execution axe—which would require two grown men to lift—into the belly of a morbidly monstrous creature with four human legs. The monster displayed extraordinary tenacity, but that didn't stop Aparisha from smashing its jawbone with the edge of his shield—if it actually needed the bone—and tearing out its mutated, sucker-covered tongue. "Where treasure lies, there's a dragon!" Aparisha gasped. It took him a full ten seconds to finish off the monster; the explosive shot hadn't yielded the desired results, its morbidly loose skin possessing an unexpected toughness. "I'd love to kill a dragon. What about you, Constantine? Do you share that desire?"

"The battlefield here needs your command."

"The company commander of the first company is capable of taking on this responsibility. I'll leave the command squad to him and only take the escort team with me."

Victor von Doom calmly seized the head of a bouncing Aether beast, orange-red flames erupting from his tightly clenched fist, incinerating its head to ashes amidst the beast's joyful screams. Creatures of the material universe couldn't completely detect his presence; only Aetheric entities could track him by faint ripples of psionic energy. However, Regent Victor von Doom had no intention of hiding. He watched the Royal Guard and a squad of genetically modified soldiers descend the maintenance corridor before turning to don his iron mask again. The coin-sized silent servers on his power armor joints made his movements imperceptible. Apart from the Aetheric entities, no other genetically modified soldier's power armor detected his image or breathing; not even a trace of heat remained.

As a life support device, this power armor had practically become his prison. It wasn't until he met the Emperor, who had left Kamar-Taj, and received mystical healing, that Victor von Doom was able to remove it. Otherwise, while living in seclusion in the mountains of Latveria, he would have needed to cast spells to conceal the armor's presence before going out to buy goods, lest it frighten the unsuspecting farmers in the market. Now, most of the power armor's life support systems were no longer needed, but the psionic drive unit, stabilization unit, psionic focuser, and spell correction prompts remained functional. Victor von Doom followed through the battlefield, holding the Emperor's banner high. Intense flames burned between the pure golden wings of the soaring eagle, and the invisible optical discs of the material universe dispelled the dense fog and miasma visible only in the dream world.

Constantine's preparations were thorough, and Regent Victor von Doom, in his psychic message to the Emperor, expressed his approval, including the vigilance maintained by the Commander of the Guard when he discovered Constantine's presence. This demonstrated that Constantine's performance met some of the Emperor's expectations. Intelligence from small reconnaissance drones, rapidly shared among the Guards, led to the drafting of a preliminary operational plan. Only after clarifying the objectives and tactical requirements did Constantine request Aparishia to transfer a fully equipped and well-supplied elite tactical squad.

Every genetically modified warrior in this tactical squad possesses insignia such as the Sharpshooter Badge, Silver Laurel Wreath, and Gold Laurel Wreath. The ornate reliefs and inlays on their power armor testify to their military achievements. This is an honorable escort squad, armed with heavy shields, warhammers, longswords, explosive rifles, explosive machine guns, and plasma pistols. Their primary mission is to protect superiors and, when necessary, organize an unstoppable breakthrough. This requires each genetically modified warrior to possess not only formidable military capabilities but also excellent strategic acumen, and judging from their resumes, they have done so more than once.

Ziggris, owner of the Marksman's Badge.

He had participated in more than six hostage rescue operations and was once the record holder for the longest sniping distance in the First Army, a record that was later broken after he joined the Rapid Reaction Force. He didn't care about that, because all he wanted was to complete the mission. To this end, he deliberately completed many shooting targets under harsh conditions, and even achieved the feat of accurately firing at enemy supply convoys and light armored reconnaissance convoys from 1.5 kilometers away using heavy explosive cannons.

Kassel, owner of the Protector's Badge and the Silver Laurel.

He had killed more than ten high-value targets on the battlefield and had participated in a hostage rescue operation with Zieglis. However, while Zieglis was sniping from a small boat floating on the sea at night, he parachuted directly from a transport plane with a thermobaric gun, a bomb pistol, a tactical knife, and a jetpack to carry out a violent breakthrough. It was less a combat knife and more a short knife about the length of an ordinary human arm. With a reverse grip on the knife, Kassel cleaved the pirates who had hijacked the cargo ship from top to bottom, from muscle to bone, scattering sticky, stinking entrails all over the ground. He single-handedly killed all the enemy agents and mercenaries on the cargo ship in fifteen minutes. Foreign hostages who witnessed his combat skills had to undergo psychological intervention to recover and fall asleep peacefully because the combat mission Kassel accomplished with the combat knife was so bloody and violent that he was repeatedly awakened in the sanatorium.

Chris, owner of the Shield of Honor badge.

His resume wasn't as illustrious as his predecessors', but he repeatedly offered invaluable tactical suggestions at the First Army Corps' operational meetings. Furthermore, his swordsmanship was exceptionally skilled, and the organ transplant surgery he underwent seemed to have a very positive effect on him; he was 10 centimeters taller than other genetically modified soldiers, requiring modifications to his power armor. At the same time, his extremely strong sense of responsibility and protective instincts made him invaluable in his role as the Honor Guard, protecting engineering teams exploring natural resources in the mountains of Afghanistan and the Balkans, and repelling attacks from local armed groups, religious groups, and rebel forces.

He was a warrior of honor, always following Aparisha into the heart of the battlefield, even once using his shield to withstand a howitzer bombardment. He repeatedly shielded Aparisha from deadly enemy attacks on the battlefield, for which one of his hands was replaced with a mechanical prosthetic hand specially crafted for him by a top-tier mechanic. Chris's outstanding achievements earned him a small shield engraved with his personal emblem, which was embedded in the lower edge of his shoulder armor, positioned near his heart.

Regent Victor von Doom followed the small team into the downward maintenance tunnel.

The Royal Guard, acting as the pathfinders, crushed the horned, tailed, scaled, feathered, and clawed deformed creatures that blocked the maintenance passage. The Sisters, closely following them, remained still for the time being, but they firmly surrounded Catherine, preventing even her steel wings from spreading. Aparisha did not join the guard formation; he arranged for his guards to bring up the rear before approaching the Royal Guard, wielding a battle axe, to walk alongside Constantine. Compared to the Royal Guard's surgical precision, Aparisha, who had never received such training, appeared somewhat clumsy. He couldn't always strike with the perfect axe, but he compensated for these shortcomings with extreme violence. This caused Constantine to frown. The Royal Guard was not a pure machine of violence like Aparisha; the use of violence was a power and a means, one of the necessary conditions for achieving their goals.

"Please do not interfere with the operation, Aparisha."

"Do you believe the Praetorian Guard is stronger than me, Constantine?"

"We exist to deal with different situations."

The commander of the Imperial Guard's tactful reply was not understood. "I believe killing the enemy is my mission. What about you?"

"If you say the word 'toy tin soldier,' I'll knock your teeth out one by one."

"I thought you were mild-mannered, robot," Aparishia said coldly. "Our duel has dragged on for far too long. Aren't you going to accept the challenge?"

"I don't have time. If you have nowhere to vent your energy, the Legion's dueling cages are enough to entertain you."

Aparishia quickly reached out and swatted away the chunks of flesh that were flying up from below; he was certain that Constantine had done it on purpose.