Marvel Magic Case Files

Chapter 1630 Kamar-Taj: The Wound

Wanda Maximov followed slowly behind, her snake-bone staff growing heavier with each step.

The steps of Kamar-Taj were far too long for her. Compared to her previous out-of-consciousness experiences, she felt as if she were carrying a heavy sandbag. Even though she knew it was just a temporary illusion, it was hard to bear the physical weight again after experiencing the freedom of the mind. She wiped the sweat that was pouring down her forehead like raindrops, while silently reciting the key points of knowledge she had learned.

She was incredibly nervous, for the Emperor and the Imperial Guard had already stormed the Seventh Court's nexus, about to witness the fruits of her independent combat. When it comes to instilling specific emotions into a mind, manipulating thoughts and dreams, creating hallucinations and auditory illusions, there are always many things to be aware of. This kind of arcane art is a wisdom of introspection; learning it often requires reading extensively in psychology, analyzing the target's mental model, and exploring their motivations and inner drives.

The wisdom of introspection is as profound as the wisdom of outward exploration. Some seemingly simple techniques often require a wealth of knowledge as a foundation, and their results are closely linked to the psionicist's imagination and tactical thinking. For example, when an enemy's sharp blade is about to pierce the caster's throat, the enemy may inexplicably and obsessively want to walk through the cracks in the floor tiles; or a certain (pre-existing) impulse or emotion within someone may be suddenly awakened, causing a specific target to transfer their feelings for a certain person or thing to another person or thing that was originally unrelated, thus performing certain actions according to the caster's will.

Such psychological suggestion requires extremely precise and complex construction techniques.

The emperor believed that Wanda Maximov was quite talented in this area, even if the latter did not think so.

She believed that what she had sent into the collective subconscious of the arcane mages in the Seventh Nexus might get her high marks on pop quizzes, but it wouldn't be able to compete with others on real exams. Therefore, she was extremely anxious, fearing that the test results would not satisfy her teacher.

"Don't move, Mordo."

The Emperor stepped through the gates of the Seventh Nexus, exposed to the light of several deep red full-length mirrors. He glanced at them briefly and then ignored them, but Mordo's spine tensed. He knew he had failed to use illusion magic to disguise himself, allowing his former comrade to recognize the deep red mirrors—the archives recording these magical items were extremely obscure, but Mordo didn't believe his former comrade hadn't read them. It was better to search for unread parchments than books he had read; at least that would make the statistical work easier. The Emperor strode past the chanting ascetics and approached Mordo, who was surrounded by arcane mages. The radiance emanating from the giant demigod brought a sense of comfort to the masochistic cultists suffering from various diseases and limb deformities, as if their pain had vanished and their souls had been soothed.

"Tell them the truth, tell them what you saw."

"I only see your ambition." Mordo pointed the tip of his Dragonfang Sword at the Emperor. Two Royal Guards immediately rushed forward, leveling their spears and pointing their sharp halberds at Mordo and the arcane mages who had summoned the Ring of Raghadore. Their fingers were on the triggers, ready to fire explosives to destroy the bodies of these hostile psionicists. "You want to replace the Sorcerer Supreme. You want to control the appointment and removal of the next Sorcerer Supreme, to control Kamar-Taj, don't you?"

"I have done it. No one can enter the library without my permission, and you cannot even produce a single grimoire capable of countering me." The Emperor's sword pointed downwards, its intense psionic energy scorching the floor tiles. "I have no need to contend for power with the Sorcerer Supreme. Everything I have done is for His sake, and you, out of foolishness and jealousy, are wasting a precious opportunity to save Him."

"I……"

"This is an ultimatum. If you refuse to lay down your weapons, I will kill you here." As the command was given, Mordo saw a blurry image. He unilaterally assumed it was the future, fragments of destiny pushed ashore by the etheric tide. He saw a golden sword piercing someone's chest, and this person was not wearing armor—he would be killed by the person before him, and the holy sword given to him by the Sorcerer Supreme would sever this Dragonfang Sword—an unacceptable end, for it meant he could not stop the traitors' advance here.

Although he couldn't see what happened next, he was able to deduce it using his intelligence.

"I saw it. I saw the atrocities you committed against everyone here. If you have no more lies to tell, it's time to show you my abilities. I used a modified spell, one you've never seen before."

The crimson full-length mirror spun like a sunflower, enveloping the emperor and the royal guards in a crimson glow. However, instead of stopping and concentrating its light on the emperor and the guards as Mordo had expected, the mirror continued to spin, instantly enveloping all the ascetics. Mordo was astonished by this sight; he saw the ascetics in the courtyard vanish instantly, disappearing without a trace, the spatial teleportation almost imperceptible.

This can be determined to be a short-distance fixed-point transmission.

"They weren't transported to Saturn, but to the square in Kathmandu. That's not what you originally intended, is it?" The Emperor stepped forward and tossed a photograph Wanda Maximoff had seen in a dream onto the ground. He moved into the range of the Dragon Fang Sword, his glowing eyes fixed on Mordo. "I don't mind explaining everything to you, Mordo. If I don't, you'll just mistake knowledge you can't understand for forbidden technology, and you might not even understand who made these full-length mirrors that were moved to the courtyard."

The emperor waved his hand, and the sorcerers affected by Wanda Maximov's witchcraft vanished before Mordo could even stop them. He had originally intended to question the emperor about the sorcerers' whereabouts, but thinking of the ascetics, he swallowed his final question.

"On that night in 1995, they held a celebration there to celebrate my attainment of a physical body. I foresaw this, so many years ago, I bought a photograph taken by a tourist at the time, thus reconnecting the ascetics, the courtyard, and Wanda. It was a complex arcane art; Wanda's magic not only allowed you to switch the meanings of six different runes but also marked the ascetics from the collective unconscious."

Modu, panting heavily, pointed his sword at the emperor. The major artery in his brain throbbed, squeezing his brain tissue and nerves. His heartbeat pounded like a war drum in his ears, and the stabbing pain inside his skull almost made him collapse.

"You were completely unaware of all this because you refused to let anyone examine your spells or the tasks you carried out. You told me not to let the subjects realize they were being manipulated, and I told Wanda that too." The Emperor brushed aside Mordo's Dragon Fang sword. He saw Mordo's face, flushed with humiliation, and noticed his increasingly heavy breathing. The other sorcerers surrounding Mordo glanced back and forth between the Emperor and Mordo—they didn't know whose orders to take. After all, the Sorcerer Supreme had handed over most of Kamar-Taj's power to the Emperor; now the Emperor was the true ruler of Kamar-Taj, controlling almost all resources—to many, especially sorcerers from sorcerer families, this was an internal coup, and all they needed to do was side with the victor. Sorcerer families never had a choice; this was the price they paid for their privileges.

"You always think you're right. You never admit that others are far more capable than you, nor do you want to admit that you've been fooled. The future you witness is limited to the fragments of destiny shown to you by the Etheric Sea. Even though you know that the so-called prophecies are just one of the lies, you never admit that you've been fooled, you're unwilling to think independently, and you unilaterally believe in the prophecies you've seen. Mordo, this isn't loyalty; it's ignorance, arrogance, and stubbornness. You're not even loyal; you just need a creed to believe in forever, a goal that's always great and always achievable. You're a fanatic, Mordo; you're not even worthy to believe in the His Holiness's creed."

"And you? How are you going to prove you're right?"

"I can't guarantee it, Mordo. I only know that I was born for a specific mission, and I see further than anyone else. I know I'm right, Mordo, even if my actions are controversial, even if my ideals will cost me everything, I still know I'm right."

As a sorcerer discovered by the London Temple, born into high society, and possessing extraordinary talent, Mordo had never suffered such an insult. He forgot the prophecy he had witnessed, forgot the golden blade that might pierce his chest, and charged at the Emperor, wielding his Dragon Fang sword. However, before the blade of the Dragon Fang sword could touch the Emperor, another hard metal thrust out from the side, striking the side of his Dragon Fang sword. Before Mordo could react, the Royal Guard, Amon, was in front of him, the distance between them barely wide enough for an adult to stretch out their arm.

The Royal Guard's hand, encased in armor, gripped his throat tightly. Only then did Mordo realize just how enormous the Royal Guard's demigod-like physique was. Before he could even utter a spell, the Royal Guard had ended the fight with a single, powerful punch. Amon had controlled his strength; otherwise, the skull of an adult male would have been far too weak to withstand the enraged Royal Guard's attack.

The emperor strode through the surviving sorcerers, and Amon, sheathing the confiscated Dragon Fang sword at his waist, followed him through the crowd. When Wanda Maximov finally arrived, she only saw Mordo lying unconscious on the ground, surrounded by the crowd. The sorcerers and ascetics who had witnessed her achievement had all vanished, and the sorcerers were all staring at her with inscrutable eyes.

Just as she was at a loss, about to launch an attack with her eyes closed, the crowd automatically parted to make way for her. She hurriedly and cautiously made her way through the crowd, her fingers and neck almost cramping with tension. As she reached the steps, she kept looking back, afraid someone might attack her, fearing they would discover she had implanted an idea into Mordo's consciousness. Implanting an idea is far more difficult than stealing information. Even after numerous training sessions—from getting customers to change their shopping choices at ice cream parlors to causing an official on the other side of the world to make a typo or a slip of the tongue—Wanda Maximoff's training wasn't always successful. Her training was far more difficult than depicted in *Inception*, especially since she was facing an arcane master; conventional psychological methods were completely ineffective. Surprisingly, no one intended to attack her. This was the idea she had gleaned from the minds of those arcane mages, which surprised her, given that they had launched a direct attack on Kamar-Taj and could be considered intruders.

She was also curious as to why Kamar-Taj had performed so poorly during this invasion.

(End of this chapter)