Marvel Magic Case Files

Chapter 1621 Kamar-Taj: The Land of Fire

A cold wind, carrying the faint smell of gunpowder, swept into the courtyard. The marble tiles cracked and shattered under the tracks, and the courtyard, which had maintained its tranquility for thousands of years, was now shrouded in a continuous barrage of explosions and engine noise. Even though the First Secret Group tried to restrain themselves, they encountered unprecedented resistance when advancing into the third courtyard.

The personnel distribution at Kamar-Taj did not follow military theory, but rather hierarchical status. Lower-ranking instructors and sorcerer apprentices resided in the first, second, and third courtyards. To enter the rear courtyards, one either needed exceptional talent or passed a rigorous examination. Therefore, the sorcerers in the rear of the third courtyard were mostly the backbone of Kamar-Taj—the Emperor's army encountered a counterattack from the organized Kamar-Taj sorcerers before they could even fire a shot. As soon as they stepped into the courtyard, crimson flames spread like water across the front yard. The soldiers of the First Secret Regiment, clad in all-encompassing combat suits, were immediately engulfed in the scorching heat; beyond their masks, they could see nothing but the boiling flames. They felt as if something unseen was pulling them down, like crawling in a swamp; the more they struggled, the more a viscous, semi-solid, rope-like substance clung to their combat suits.

Corporal Bolton tripped over a sticky substance on the ground.

As he lay prone on the ground, he realized that what was stuck to his armored visor was actually just some seemingly ordinary spider silk. The sticky silk covered his entire body, and it took him considerable effort to pull his hands off the ground. Flames, however, surged up his tactical gloves along the semi-viscous silk, scorching his visor black and then burning through his breathing filter. The scalding air rushed into his lungs through the tubes, and in that instant, he tasted caustic oil on the back of his tongue. His lungs were then burned beyond recognition.

One and a half seconds later, with several gunshots, the flames mysteriously disappeared from the flammable material.

The marksmen climbed to a high point using ropes and grappling hooks, unleashing deadly bullets that killed the arcane mages responsible for unleashing fire from the rear of the crowd. Despite their swift reaction, they couldn't avoid casualties. Meanwhile, the First Secret Group's crisis was far from over. The arcane mages, shouting slogans and wielding psionic shields and contracted psionic blades, charged towards the First Secret Group and the Sorority invading the courtyard.

In that instant, all rules of engagement that aimed to reduce casualties were abandoned.

As battle-hardened veterans, the soldiers of the First Secret Regiment immediately pulled the trigger. Dense bursts of high-powered lasers and rocket-propelled warheads exploded against the Soul Shield, sending orange-red sparks flying. The shield, constructed of geometric formulas and secret runes, disintegrated and reconstructed, the air crackling with static electricity spreading from the ethereal current. Behind them, arcane mages raised their hands, and storms and lightning converged in the air. The supersonic metal warheads vaporized in mid-air, the fusion material within turning into supersonic heat, like steam rising from hot metal, creating a gale, but posing no threat to the mages.

The burning psionic spear hovered above the arcane mage's head before shooting towards the accurate archer in the distance.

The all-environment combat suits were easily pierced, and the soldiers' gun barrels were forced upwards by an unseen force. The soldiers of the First Secret Regiment and the Sorority had to draw their melee and secondary weapons to face the arcane mages charging straight at them. The distance between them and the arcane mages closed rapidly, close enough that Tatiana could see the bulging veins on the young arcane mages' necks, close enough that she could smell the tense sweat emanating from them, close enough that she could see the oil seeping from the skin of the users scorched by the blade-shaped psionic flames, close enough that she could feel the terrifying heat of the psionic weapons on her throat.

Then she turned around, drew her chainsaw sword from bottom to top, and brutally sliced ​​open the sorcerer's ribs.

The foul-smelling, slippery entrails and blood splattered onto her combat boots.

"How dare you use the knowledge He gave you to attack His warriors."

The sound of an armored vehicle crushing marble steps came from behind, but she had no patience for massive firepower suppression. A sorcerer, enveloped in a shimmering ethereal storm, lunged at her, shouting the name of the sorcerer she had killed. This time, Tatiana showed no mercy. The immense power of her power armor allowed her punch to shatter a skull. She brutally tore off the sorcerer's arm, revealing white ribs and a beating heart beneath the ripped skin of his chest and abdomen.

She brutally threw the bloodied limbs back into the formation of the arcane mages, causing a wave of terror.

These young sorcerers had very little practical experience. Most of them were still learning how to deal with dark wizards and participating in very low-risk combat. This so-called low-risk combat actually meant following the sorcerer deacons to clean up the laboratories of the surrendered magical schools, and dealing with some not-so-dangerous but rather annoying curses, magical creatures, and so on. They didn't actually take anyone's life; cleaning and repairs were their main tasks.

When they first find themselves in a chaotic conflict, they will inevitably fall into panic and tension.

The battle lasted only thirteen seconds.

As a large number of combat sisters, wielding chainswords and charging aggressively into the battlefield, and massive armored vehicles entered, the young sorcerers, who had been stirred up with fervor, immediately lost their courage—the lightning of etheric energy struck the armor plates adorned with golden lily patterns, detonating the explosives installed in the reactive armor on the outside of the ceramic-metal composite armor. The gunners inside the armored vehicles immediately turned their side turrets and fired laser beams at the sorcerer—even these sorcerers who had mastered psionic magic could not guarantee that they would survive unscathed against large-caliber machine guns and high-powered laser cannons; the sorcerer hit by the laser cannon was not even left with a complete corpse. Other survivors hit by lasers and explosive shells were still bleeding on the ground, while the chainswords in the combat sisters' hands were still spinning rapidly with a whooshing sound, instantly charring the shredded flesh and skin.

The armored vehicles unleashed a barrage of suppressive fire. The arcane mages attempting to vaporize the bullets were unable to keep up with their spells or prevent the Sisterhood's armored vehicles from killing the arcane mages using psionic weapons. The remaining young arcane mages were then subdued by soldiers of the First Secret Service.

The soldiers of the First Secret Regiment, covered in soot and burn marks, looked indignant and became much more violent. When they encountered prisoners of war whose pride suddenly flared up, they would not try to persuade them with words as before, but would directly hit them with a rifle butt or turn the power of their stun guns to the maximum.

Corporal Bolton's body still lay in the same spot. Not a single soldier was unwilling to avenge their comrade. However, the young sorcerers truly did not know who had killed Corporal Bolton. Even when faced with the whistling, rapidly spinning monomolecular blades and the steaming muzzle of a laser rifle, even when the furious squad leader threatened to break their joints, slit their throats, and rip out their tongues, these sorcerers could not give a clear answer.

"Ignore the wounded. Put restraints on the psionicists and continue advancing."

Tatiana's voice came through the communication channel.

This order drew the attention of all the soldiers in the First Secret Regiment, but Tatiana quickly explained her reasons for doing so.

"Before He arrives, we must advance to the fifth tactical objective, Amnye Machen (Note: a mountain god in Tibetan mythology, and also a sacred site of the Bon religion). Image intelligence from the reconnaissance drones indicates that the dangerous target, Modu, has already led a group of mages to assemble in the Amnye Machen courtyard." Tatiana brandished her chainsaw sword, the blood on the blade already evaporated, much of it turning to ash. "The terrain there is suitable for concealment; we must coordinate with the armored units for a strong assault. We must capture Modu. He wants to persuade Modu to let the other mages give up resistance, but if Modu senses His arrival, he will inevitably retreat, and we will miss the opportunity to end the mission quickly."

Tatiana's order was confirmed by the Janissary, Amphitryon.

"This is a wise decision, Ms. Tatiana."

The Royal Guard, Amphitryon, entered the third courtyard along with the armored vehicles. While some might question Amphitryon's slow pace after the war, he could point to the several arcane mages following behind him and claim he had a special mission. Kamar-Taj, an organization that had existed for millennia, even before acquiring its official name, possessed a complex and layered web of internal power. It wouldn't be surprising if the Emperor himself had developed his own influence within it—the Emperor believed that before his arrival with Wanda Maximoff, the First Secret Service and the Sisterhood would inevitably be at a disadvantage against psychic arcane magic, and this proved to be true. Upon realizing this, Amphitryon immediately whispered a code to several specific targets in the prisoner-of-war area, activating the Emperor's agents.

"I will now lead the attack," he said. "The rest of the operation will be under my command. Lady Tatiana, you lack experience in dealing with psychic magic, and I and the mystics behind me are willing to provide ample assistance... Don't worry, their loyalty belongs to the Emperor, not Kamar-Taj. The Emperor personally recruited and trained them, and although their psychic skills cannot compare to Mordo's, they still possess unique and noteworthy qualities."

The Guardian's armored personnel carriers sped along the repaired roads of the Immortal City, carrying Amon, Wanda Maximoff, and the Emperor to the occupied Kamar-Taj front yard. "Mordo won't give up. He trusts the Sorcerer Supreme too much, his personality is too stubborn. Unless he's told the truth, he won't question it even if he senses something amiss." The Emperor paused. "But I don't want to do that. I don't know what Mordo will do after knowing the truth—whether he'll utterly fall or uphold his mission. Even though it seems like only two possibilities, the threads of fate extend into countless possibilities, each with the potential for enormous impact. High-ranking arcane deacons like Mordo are all powerful psionicists with knowledge of dangerous matters; if he falls, the harm he can cause will be astonishing."

"I suggest killing Mordo." Wanda Maximov's impression of Mordo was still that of the stern and rigid Grand Master of Kamar-Taj; the two hadn't had much interaction. But even she found Amon's suggestion somewhat alarming. "My lord, I suggest completely eliminating the possibility of Mordo's existence," Amon said. "If Mordo could pose a threat, even early elimination would benefit your computational models. After all, we cannot predict whether Mordo will fall into corruption now or in the future."

(End of this chapter)