Marvel Magic Case Files

Chapter 1679 Parade

The harsh winter is approaching, and the last season for climbing Mount Everest will come to an end. Most tourists leave this harsh land immediately after completing a boastful achievement on the shoulders of Sherpas with their money. Only a small number of enthusiasts, who are determined to invest their wealth and soul in Sherpa villages nestled deep in the mountains, hundreds of kilometers away from the nearest town of Shigatse, beneath the thick snow-covered mountains and black rocks, can witness a sight they will never forget.

The only road leading to this remote village nestled in the mountains is steep and rugged, its black rock surface crisscrossed with people in various clothing. Even during peak tourist season, the village is rarely this crowded. Led by a large group of red-robed lamas carrying prayer wheels, Sherpas, draped in thick, rough wool coats, stand devoutly on either side of the road, watching with awe as they escort a group of monks in long robes and with long hair sway across the path, offering them fried dough, tsampa, yogurt, and piping hot butter tea. At the head of this massive procession are a group of ascetics smeared with bone-white ash and wearing patched clothing, as well as several giants clad in magnificent golden armor and deep red cloaks; ordinary people can only reach the elbows of these mythical figures.

If travelers had some knowledge of human history and geography, they would recognize that these ascetics likely came from the other side of the Himalayas. Their thin clothing and emaciated bodies could not possibly sustain them in such harsh conditions; yet, their fervor raises their body temperature, and the scattered snowflakes melt on their grimy skin, smeared with ashes, washing away the grime. The ascetics view the falling snowflakes as a ritual, thus they stand in the procession with outstretched arms to welcome the cold wind, allowing the mountains to leave their mark on their skin.

In this place, completely different religious forces seem to coexist harmoniously.

Even the oldest Sherpa elders, witnessing this scene, could only vaguely recall the legends of their people, legends older than the mountains themselves. The legends said that when the Supreme Being ascended the summit, the gods dwelling in the underworld and the mountains would pay homage to the new god—the ruler of the world, the king of the mountains, the one who wielded the highest secret arts, and who would live forever. The procession would travel hundreds of kilometers, crossing mountains, valleys, and rivers to reach the abode of this new god, witnessing the beginning of eternal rule and proclaiming that the human world would be the Supreme Being's territory.

This ceremony has not been held for over a thousand years.

Until a few months ago, monks living atop the mountain descended the cliff and told them that the former supreme being had ascended to heaven and a new supreme being had been born on earth. This Sherpa community, along with other local villages, began preparations, exchanging their wages earned from tour companies for food, fuel, and spices to feed their livestock, intending to join the procession to a secret realm inaccessible to ordinary people. Even the oldest locals couldn't pinpoint the location of this secret realm, for it lay hidden among the clouds and mist of the mountains, and those fortunate enough to reach it forgot its location upon leaving. Only villages that lived deep in the mountains, with little contact with the outside world, were allowed to know its whereabouts.

The procession was incredibly long, with torches laced with expensive spices planted at intervals along both sides of the road. The choking smoke and flames stretched from the edge of the village all the way to the other side of the winding mountain range, visible to the naked eye, before disappearing into the sky, as if an ancient mountain had split open a fissure flowing with lava. The low chanting of red-robed lamas holding prayer wheels blended with the almost frenzied shouts of ascetics, and the two groups clustered together in the middle, with a group dressed in dark brown and indigo carrying gifts.

Above the procession floated a colossal lotus platform, entirely made of gold and capable of covering the entire village. Beneath the platform burned blazing flames, slowly advancing with the procession. Supernatural, defying the laws of nature, light rose from the ground and disappeared into the clouds. Countless, almost tangible petals and ribbons, shimmering with magnificent colors, descended from the sky, only to dissipate into countless glimmers before hitting the people's heads, illuminating the mountains as night fell once more. As this incredible spectacle drew near, the air, heated by the flames, spread outwards like a warm wind sweeping through the valley. On the lotus platform stood a colossal statue of a deity with three indistinct heads, crafted entirely from pure white gemstones. Following closely behind were colossal deities made of deep red gemstones, twelve moons carved from giant spheres of opal, and other illusions.

"From now on, these networks will be handled by Victor von Doom, and the fate of Hydra will be in his hands. I'm good at leaving professional matters to professionals. If I were to handle these things, I would prefer to crush the enemy directly rather than use spies, just as I did when I brought Hydra into submission."

Salomon sighed, and the atmosphere became somewhat heavy.

Even he, the one who propelled this wheel forward, had to succumb to the objective laws of history and wait for his opportunity. The freedom he gained in this political game required the accumulation of weapons, soldiers, and money, and his personal military strength was the guarantee for the smooth development of these forces. The aircraft carriers roaming the Mediterranean and outer space were his bargaining chips for controlling the situation in the Middle East and Europe and for securing time for his own stable development. He personally recruited a large number of young people from Eastern Europe and the Middle East, sending them to the Immortal City, the unexplored secret bases of S.H.I.E.L.D., and the thoroughly controlled Hydra training camps. He needed time for these seeds of the future to grow into the saplings he desired, and then fill the military and administrative systems.

He watched the approaching procession below, a seemingly ordinary longsword resting in his hand, its tip touching the rock, the gleaming blade slowly burning in the night. In the courtyard of Kamar-Taj Sanctuary, he recounted his whereabouts the previous night to Wanda Maximoff. Only now did she realize that the Malik family, the Lister family, and other powerful financial and political families were actually Hydra; it was the first time she had truly understood the existence of these ancient families, these world-controlling entities. Taking advantage of the time, he also told Wanda Maximoff about the World Security Council's decisions during the Battle of New York, the origins of S.H.I.E.L.D., and the history of Hydra. This historical entanglement spanning over three thousand years completely exceeded her imagination, filling in gaps in her understanding of the world. More than a war god, he was passionate about becoming a scholar and teacher, even if he wasn't particularly qualified.

"I assure you, the Hydra in its original sense no longer exists in this world. Baron Strucker's son's life is nearing its end. The Hydra's three-thousand-year-old tradition has been completely destroyed, the cohesion that brought these ancient families together is gone, and they have a new object of loyalty."

He said with a hint of apology, "I can be honest with you, I don't trust Hydra. If you want, you and Pietro can end Alex Strucker's life yourselves and avenge the pain and torment his father inflicted on you. But I need Hydra right now, at least I need ancient families like the Malik and Lister families to provide me with resources and intelligence. I need them until I completely assimilate Hydra. I won't make the mistake of the Paperclip Project, where Hydra will be completely destroyed."

Wanda tilted her head.

She glanced behind her at the Kamar-Taj sorcerers who were busy preparing, making sure no one got too close.

And then there was that strange cat, always smiling and dressed in adorable clothes. It lay seemingly languidly on the ground, yet its eyes were wide, fixed on everyone who approached, emitting a menacing hiss. She noticed that the mages' attitude towards her teacher wasn't as respectful as she'd expected; instead, it was tinged with fear. The scars of that conflict still lingered in this ancient fortress. The mages, overprotected by the Sorcerer Supreme, had never imagined they would one day witness a bloody end in their own homeland. They were also hostile towards the girls in power armor, with explosive guns at their waists, even though they were only responsible for maintaining order and helping them pave the courtyard. Since that conflict, the Sorority had never left; they maintained order alongside the mages who supported the Emperor.

According to the Emperor's public narrative, an outer dimensional evil god cursed and possessed the Sorcerer Supreme, ultimately helping the Supreme, who briefly regained self-awareness, to die, freeing him from his bondage and achieving freedom. However, he told Wanda that this was not the truth. The Sorcerer Supreme sacrificed himself to obtain a crucial concept from the outer dimensional evil god, a concept that would grant humanity self-will; being possessed and corrupted was one of the prices. To achieve this, from the moment he began learning psychic magic, the Sorcerer Supreme frequently traveled physically to outer dimensions, visiting many planets in the galaxy.

Not everyone can accept this truth.

The unbridled exploitation of outer-dimensional energy is forbidden in Kamar-Taj; all who have done so have fallen, even the Sorcerer Supreme—even he couldn't guarantee his own safety when devising this plan. The plan served as a safeguard for the purity of his soul. However, he couldn't tell the sorcerers that the Sorcerer Supreme's true cause of death was not a curse but a sacrifice; only he and the Sorcerer Supreme knew the reason. The secret was far too valuable; those memories were dangerous to any soul. To utter them would trigger a full-scale backlash from all outer-dimensional forces. Even contemplating the matter required meticulous secrecy.

He is not yet ready to resist or retaliate, and all actions must be taken with caution.

He hated this terrible world that needed the Sorcerer Supreme's sacrifice, and he hated even more those who slandered his contributions. His expression remained unchanged, but Wanda could sense his emotions briefly surge in the outer dimensions, like the intense, scorching psionic energy of a star erupting with a solar storm. This emotion vanished in an instant, followed by calm, utter stillness, as if he had severed his connection with the outer dimensions. He controlled his emotions, trying to prevent any disruption to this perfunctory trial. Kamar-Taj needed peace and respite; all available forces had to be united.

Wanda Maximov remained silent for a long time.

She gazed at the slowly moving procession below, gradually enveloped by the night shrouding the mountains, her eyes reflecting the starlight-like firelight. The surge of psychic energy he had unleashed had subsided, then returned to complete calm; Wanda's psychic power had not spiraled out of control. He watched with satisfaction as Wanda Maximov was able to control her psychic energy so naturally, meaning the risk of her losing control was decreasing.

He was not a heartless man, and if he could, he hoped he would never point a gun at Wanda.

"There's no need, teacher. I don't care about Baron Strucker, much less his son's life or death. I will always support your ideas, even if others don't understand. If it weren't for those human experiments, you wouldn't have gone to that castle, and then Pietro and I wouldn't have met you, and we might have..."

Wanda Maximoff gripped the snake-bone staff tightly, crimson lightning crackling softly as it surged from the snake's skull. She wondered if the elegant woman at the Oxfordshire manor—dressed in a black suit, with blood-red lipstick, a hat, and a veil, resembling an Italian mafia widow (referring to Bayonetta, Wanda's imagination a mere stereotype)—would support him as much as she did.

"I've said it before, your and Pietro's abilities are not the result of human experimentation; they are your natural talents. Baron Strucker hasn't changed anything; his super-soldier program was doomed from the start."

"That's not important. I don't care about Hydra."

Wanda took a deep breath, wondering if her teacher was downplaying the important issues.

She fully understood what the Emperor meant by dismantling the Hydra. In the Emperor's account, the ancient Hydra originated from the genetic engineering of humans by the Kree during the Stone Age. After the genetically engineered slaves were exiled, the beneficiaries of the genetically engineered products gathered together to form the original Hydra. These groups then maintained their ancient beliefs through blood sacrifices and rituals year after year, even though such beliefs had become a complete formalism.

She had taken theological courses and understood that this belief system, which completely isolated itself from other human civilizations, had a huge centripetal force, just like the study of the Tanakh and the control of social resources. If this belief was to be broken, the most effective means of conversion would be violence rather than the administrative orders used by the Ottoman Empire after it destroyed the Byzantine Empire. The emperor chose to give a new belief after breaking the old one, thus thoroughly digesting the resources brought by this ancient belief system.

Why did you suddenly decide to confess this to me?

"I have many secret plans that cannot be made public, but you are entitled to know this because Hydra is one of the main culprits behind Sokovia's descent into poverty and war. If others... like Tony Stark or Steve Rogers, or even other governments that openly oppose Hydra, then attacking the system I have built will become a global consensus... I am telling you this not out of sentimentality, but because I want you to be more involved, to maintain a continuous deterrent against Hydra while I focus on my other plans. Pietro will also be involved, but his mission is different from yours."

Salomon smiled.

Clearly, he was very pleased with his prank.

"His next mission isn't fighting, not on the space station, but in the castle. The Inhuman princess, Crystal, a pretty blonde little girl, is being mediated by Countess Katharina regarding her language and etiquette. I think Pietro might be able to talk to that little girl... Although Attiland is a rotten place that needs to stage regular coups to reduce the population and maintain the ruling class, the moon is humanity's outpost to the universe, and it's important to humanity there."

"Pietro is not capable of being a ruler!"

"He doesn't need to rule; he only needs to obtain the legitimacy. Whether that legitimacy continues or not is irrelevant. In any case, those Inhumans who have undergone Kree genetic engineering can only stay in the Attilan base on the moon. They must be made to obey my orders. The bomb gun can't do everything."

"I'll ask for his opinion," Wanda said.

Salomon chuckled in relief. "Maybe he'll have a different opinion when he meets that Inhuman princess. It's a secret plan that can be made public, isn't it?"

(End of this chapter)