Marvel Magic Case Files

Chapter 1623 Kamar-Taj Palace

Mordo immersed his mind in the sea of ​​ether, chanting Hermesian verses to quell the growing rage within him.

"Modu, your spell is completely useless." Mage Daniel stood to the side, his wrinkled, aged face, so old that no trace of his white and Native American ancestry could be seen, was full of indifference. "I don't know why you added this spell to the mirror dimension, but it can't trap the intruder at all."

"That is the mantra that His Holiness personally gave to me, Venerable Daniel."

Mordo closed his eyes and recited the three great wisdoms to stabilize his mind.

He looked down at the courtyard below. Even though he couldn't see what was happening inside, he could tell from the crimson aura in the sky that many mages had died tragically. Despair and pain ignited the dense ether in the air, causing the minds of every mage to become restless. The emperor made no attempt to conceal his presence. Mordo saw the majestic ethereal radiance in the sky trigger a series of supernatural phenomena: the crimson aura was dispelled, and the despair and pain were melted away. This was a phenomenon only psychics could see; mortals could only see the dark clouds in the sky disperse, the blizzard abruptly stop, and sunlight shining upon the earth.

"The vampires of Transylvania are eyeing us covetously. The group of vampires we killed not long ago were descendants of Dracula," said the mage Daniel. "But I didn't expect you to think he was colluding with the vampires. What has clouded your judgment, Baron Mordo? Don't you know how many vampires he has killed?"

"That only proves that the Belmont family (note: from the protagonist's family in Castlevania) did not betray him."

"Am I unable to convince you, Baron Mordo?" Wizard Daniel sighed. He found a stone stool to sit on, seemingly unconcerned that the thin layer of snow might soil his pristine white robes. "He has accomplished feats that many mages cannot achieve, and you're not even going to ask him why he's doing it now?"

"I have complete faith in His Holiness the Venerable Master."

"Not out of jealousy?" The wrinkles on Mage Daniel's face smoothed out, and his previously dull eyes sharpened, becoming shrewd. "You know the title of Sorcerer Supreme will be his, and you know you can never match him in ability and wisdom. Shall we ask Kasirius what he has to say?"

"Is this your understanding, Mage Daniel? Kasirius is still monitoring the Allfather, and that mission is at a crucial stage. He doesn't have time to pay attention to Kamar-Taj. If he knows that the one he considers family has betrayed Kamar-Taj, then the monitoring mission will also be affected." Mordo smiled, but Mage Daniel thought this was worse than anger. Clearly, Baron Morf had discovered his ulterior motives. "If you don't mind, please protect the safety of my body. I heard him calling me from the Aether Sea; he wants to communicate with me. I'm going to hear what he has to say."

"Very well, I'm willing to take on this responsibility." Master Daniel bowed slightly. "Then let's hear what He has to say."

This is a golden, opulent palace, far surpassing any architectural complex ever built by humankind, past, present, or future. Perched atop a rising continental shelf, each of its vast halls creates a unique microclimate. Soaring spires pierce the clouds, monsoon winds howl within, and thunder echoes endlessly. Mist obscures the exquisite murals on the dome, paintings honed over millennia by humankind. Tens of thousands of marble staircases form winding mountain ranges, flanked by statues of Titans, like endless mountain peaks. Caves carved into the walls hold the remains of countless heroes who fought for the survival of humankind throughout history. Their empty eye sockets gaze upon each person who ascends the stairs, their ghostly spirits chanting sacred sacrifices, but vanishing into mist and flashes of light when visitors approach.

Baron Mordo silently chanted the Vishanti incantation, closing his eyes to shut out the thousand halos of sunlight streaming down from the dome. No one could resist the awe-inspiring grandeur of this palace, and Mordo knew he was no exception. The first time he opened his eyes, the sheer size of the building overwhelmed his senses, completely shattering his conventional understanding. He could only close his eyes again to banish the dizziness. He tried to discern the few identifiable features in the hall, attempting to apply his common sense to this world, trying to understand the palace in a way that human intellect could comprehend.

He discovered that the palace was built on the foundation of Kamar-Taj. The familiar courtyards had become small rooms within the halls, and the marble-paved mountainside was covered with burning white candles, the smoke from burning incense drifting slowly into the clouds beneath the dome. Mordo knew where he was; even he had to admit that he had never witnessed such a magnificent, awe-inspiring mind—he had entered the Emperor's heart, he stood at its gates. Each tightly closed palace door represented a secret the Emperor was unwilling to reveal, and he was merely standing on the walls, at the heavy gates, unable to find the right path to the depths of the mind.

"What arrogance!" Mordo shouted in a trembling voice. "Why don't you come out and see me? Are you trying to intimidate me? Do you want me to worship you before the throne?"

There was no response. The clouds beneath the dome shifted due to the sound waves, and then pure rain fell like goose feathers, tiny droplets carrying a hint of incense clinging to Mordo's robes. Mordo felt his robes soaking, the fibers clinging tightly to his skin, but the chanting of the ghosts in the palace drew his attention. He listened carefully, and could only make out the ghosts' chants about heroes who had sacrificed themselves on battlefields he had never witnessed, and the lives and souls they had given for the continuation of humanity.

Why are you behaving like a coward!

"Because I have more important things to deal with than you, Mordo, I don't have time to take care of your feelings."

A tall man in a deep red robe stood at the palace gate, holding a worn birchwood cane. The robe was as red as blood; it was a shroud woven from the blood of saints and the bones of angels. Mordo saw blood dripping from a hand protruding from the robe's sleeve. He instinctively wanted to ask about the cause of the injury, but was immediately enraged by the accusatory tone.

"I taught you, not so that you would be so arrogant," Mordo said. "Don't think that just because you're stronger than me now, you can talk to me like that."

"I do appreciate your help, which shortened the time it took for me to absorb that knowledge, allowing me to explore more. But that doesn't mean I need to continue to cater to your feelings, because I have things to do." The man paused, holding his staff. "Because of negligence, because of foolishness, because of shortsightedness, the Eye of Agamotto is now out of my control. I thought you would have noticed the anomaly, or that I would have been able to return in time, and that the being masquerading as the Venerable would have been unable to control the Eye of Agamotto."

"Impossible, I have met the Venerable One."

"The venerable one's skin, which is clothed in something, has come to the material universe."

"There is no being that can defeat the Sorcerer Supreme." Mordo clenched his fists, but the aetheric energy did not surge out as expected. "You are lying."

His eyes, hidden beneath the hood, shimmered like stars. He walked past Mordo, pushing open the heavy, golden alloy gate, dozens of meters high, with a single hand. Only then did Mordo notice the magnificent relief etched upon the gate that had been behind him the entire time. It depicted a clad figure wielding a sword, its tip pointing downwards, piercing the body of a giant dragon, with stars twinkling around him. However, the figure's face was shrouded in mist, obscuring all details from Mordo's view.

"I am engaged in a confrontation."

The gate was ajar, wide enough for several people to pass side-by-side. Through that crack, Mordo saw a rapidly surging etheric matter forming a vortex outside, its center crackling with lightning. Countless etheric entities flickered within the vortex. A storm of imaginary numbers, powerful enough to tear apart the gravity of a star, was brewing. Each bolt of lightning could rip through land and ignite the atmosphere. Carnivorous plants, thousands of meters long, roamed the void, hunting the sorrowful souls who had come to this world from the other side of the veil. Mordo saw that every stone brick in the palace was engraved with tiny symbols: Kabbalah, Mystra, Apollo, Dionysus, Enlil, Gilgamesh; iambic pentameter, sonnets, quatrains; classical physics, higher algebra, relativity, string theory, and so on.

This palace in the emperor's mind existed both within his head and behind a veil. He used all the wisdom of human history to combat this terrifying ethereal tide. Countless ethereal entities were instantly vaporized upon contact with the palace walls—Mordo saw his eyes tightly closed, sweat streaming down his forehead and nose—even though the palace was far beyond human comprehension, in this boundless place beyond time and space, it was like a small boat, teetering precariously in the storm. On the palace's towering dome, a lamp as blazing as a star exerted its full power to release its light, calming the waters surrounding the palace.

"An existence disguised as a Venerable One has come to the material universe. If it is not stopped, it will bring a heavy disaster to the human race."

"You're injured." Mordo's expression was awkward. "You're fighting something like this?"

The emperor shook his head, and at that moment Mordo saw the laurel wreath hidden under the hood.

"I need evidence."

"I can give you nothing, Mordo. You only have the choice to believe or not believe."

"Did you convince him?" Wanda Maximov asked.

Walking through the courtyard strewn with spent shell casings and rubble, the air still reeked of lasers burning flesh. The acrid smell was nauseating, and the barely functioning microclimate psionic array operated intermittently, completely unable to regulate the air's composition, temperature, humidity, and other variables. Wanda Maximov caught a glimpse of limbs and bits of flesh beneath the treads and couldn't help but turn her head away, as if that would distance her from the bloody horror.

"I cannot tell him the truth while upholding His Majesty's reputation. Mordo's loyalty is commendable, but his stubbornness is a headache." Amun saw the Emperor smile, seemingly unperturbed by his failed persuasion. "It's alright, he will eventually understand what I did. I believe in his loyalty to the ideal of protecting the continuation of humanity; there are few in this world as stubborn as him. He witnessed the birth of the Beast of Sodom in the storm; in any case, he will make the right choice."

"Have you overestimated Mordo's mental fortitude, my lord?"

(End of this chapter)