Marvel Magic Case Files

Chapter 1715 The True God

Even students from Eridu with only basic education could calculate the daily expenses of this army, a figure that would have astonished many dukes and even kings in feudal Europe. In that era of low productivity, no one except an autocratic monarch like the emperor could afford such an expense.

For the livestock alone, the two thousand soldiers armed with lever rifles required more than three thousand warhorses. In order to ensure that the food and supplies were delivered to the stations along the way on time—the emperor set up a station every three hundred to four hundred kilometers to supply the army and transport goods—more than four thousand yaks and cattle were brought in, and more than two thousand vehicles were built to travel between the Mesopotamian plain and the Sinai Peninsula.

The emperor mobilized over ten thousand men for this war, many of whom had received basic education in Eridu. Some of these men were children and their descendants whom the emperor had purchased from various villages over twenty years prior. They were the backbone of the entire Eridu regime, and their removal would plunge Eridu's administrative and production systems into a manpower shortage. Furthermore, the temple used the profits gained from organizing traveling merchants and exploration teams over the past twenty years. Even the wine sealed in earthenware jars and clay in the temple was reduced to only one-tenth. This ruby-colored, sweet liquid, more valuable than gold, was sold to landowners in Mesopotamia and as far away as Egypt in exchange for gold to purchase grain and copper mines.

Although he was not in charge of leading troops in combat, Captain Miller still felt a heavy responsibility on his shoulders.

Elijah was no longer capable of launching a second expedition.

"Master Miller, you've finally arrived. There's some new information about Egypt that I need you to know."

This is the closest and most dangerous site to Egypt. Although nominally a stone-built trading post enclosed by wooden stakes, responsible for procuring food from Egypt, which was then still a Neolithic village confederation, no matter how well it was concealed, the aliens who controlled mutant slaves noticed it. Fortunately, perhaps due to arrogance, believing that the human race could not hinder the production of bio-slaves, it never suffered a real attack.

A young man with messy black curly hair was holding the reins, his face full of excitement.

Captain Miller recognized him; the young man was also one of his students. He clearly remembered that the young man's shooting score was the highest among that year's students, capable of shattering five ceramic pots ten meters away in three seconds with a revolver, setting a school shooting record. Therefore, his name was engraved on a clay tablet and kept in the school's exhibition hall.

"Apagne, where is Mur?" Captain Miller dismounted and handed the reins to the young man. Behind him, two thousand soldiers had already skillfully set up camp, received the station's food and timber reserves, and were preparing lunch and defensive structures. "He wrote to me two months ago saying he would be waiting for me here."

“Dead. About a month ago, when he was meeting with his informant, his alien bastard slaves attacked him and hung his charred remains from a tree—may his soul return to the throne—now I am in charge here, and everyone of higher rank than me is dead,” Appagne announced loudly. “But I assure you, the warehouse was undamaged, and we thwarted several of the slaves’ attempts to infiltrate it. More importantly, our spies have spotted the alien headhunters. In addition, we have captured one of their slaves, who is currently imprisoned in the dungeon, to be sent to the temple during the next shipment. Would you be interested in participating in the interrogation?”

"What did you find out? Was the informant exposed?"

"The informants are still safe. Not everyone is willing to submit to those alien bastards. Many village hunters cooperate with us, and the alien bastards can't find any informants. Our prices are high, and we don't have enough manpower. We can't monitor all the alien bastards' ships on our own." Appagne winked at Captain Miller, as if he had something difficult to say. "As for the slaves we captured, it's the same as before. We can't get anything out of them, Master. I heard that the temple sent wizards. Wizards must know things we don't. Perhaps you have some different ideas, Master."

Captain Miller glanced at him, then at the bronze ring on Appagne's hand, thus understanding the latter's source of information. The intelligence system's secrecy level was extremely strict, and even Captain Miller couldn't guarantee that his location knew all the secrets. Appagne, as a temporary site manager, knew even less, not even the types of aliens. Only high-ranking members of the Council of the Shield like himself would know the location of the Kree's homeworld.

As for the traveling merchants who lacked access to the intelligence system, they simply viewed the so-called "Blue Angels" as demons. Captain Miller had to admit that the Emperor's argument that "needing the truth does not equate to accepting the truth" did indeed have some merit. Humanity in this era could not accept the fact that intelligent life existed on other planets. At least until humanity gained the rationality and power to confront the harsh truth, widely disseminating the truth would only cause trouble; the pretext of a religious holy war was far more effective in mobilizing Elidu's power.

"I assure you, Appagne. I know nothing about it either."

Captain Miller didn't know much about the Kree-made bio-slaves, because their appearances, like their abilities, were incredibly diverse. Generally, the more severe the deformity, the stronger the ability; however, this was merely a marker for frontline soldiers and spies to easily assess the enemy's capabilities. Some slaves retained human appearances but possessed equally powerful abilities, thus posing a constant danger to informants posing as traveling merchants. The cost of capturing a slave intact was enormous; a small number of captured slaves, after interrogation, were sent to the temple for research, and in twenty years, no more than fifty slaves survived to reach the temple alive.

"I need to fill my stomach first, no matter what. There are also orders from the temple. Now that Moore is dead, you are in charge. The report has been sent to the temple."

After a brief handover, Captain Miller followed Appagne into the stone house, then moved the boxes into the basement. The stone house, with only a small window and a rough wooden table, barely allowed sunlight and wind to enter; the basement below relied on a single animal fat candle for lighting. Neatly arranged on the cabinets were dried mud tablets and rolled-up papyrus scrolls—administrative records and intelligence summaries for the site. Captain Miller took a roll of parchment from his backpack. Upon seeing the parchment, Appagne immediately dropped his nonchalant expression. Only the temple's administrative system could use parchment, meaning this order likely came from the Emperor, the Guardian Order, or the Council of the Holy Shield.

"With the Council of the Holy Shield as witness, this order is delivered to the highest-ranking official at the Egyptian site. Now that Mur has sacrificed himself, you are the highest-ranking official, Apagne," Captain Miller said. "Produce your cylinder stamp; I need to write a reply report. You know, even I cannot violate temple procedures."

Appagne took two cylinder stamps from the cabinet, one for the station and one for himself; the report also needed Captain Miller's cylinder stamp to be valid.

"When does Your Majesty intend to launch the attack? The scouts say nothing, and we don't know whether we should do anything. I know I don't have the authority, but I just want to ask. The atmosphere here is getting worse the sooner we start, the more frequent the attacks are, and the less information our merchants can gather. Who knows when those alien bastards might plan to attack this place? Our trenches and wooden stakes won't be able to stop them."

As a sharpshooter, Appagne had participated in several raids and knew that it would be difficult to pose a threat to the blue-skinned aliens with just his revolver.

All I can tell you is that we won't be staying long. You just need to do your job.

"They say the emperor is coming," Appagne whispered. "Is that true?"

The news of the emperor's arrival at the front was deliberately leaked in order to reassure the public.

Apagnae and his associates, stationed on the front lines of intelligence warfare, were acutely aware of the alien slaves' abilities. The firearms issued to the army by the temple were highly effective against humans, but less so against alien slaves and aliens with special abilities. Even with basic education and the temple's demystification of the emperor, everyone knew just how powerful he truly was.

As long as the emperor comes here, victory will belong to them.

This unwavering trust is the belief that sustains frontline intelligence personnel in their continued work.

Captain Miller had once wondered why the Elidduites had such unwavering loyalty to the Emperor, but after years away from Elid, he finally understood the source of their loyalty—while other civilizations were still eating raw meat and using crude smelting of copper ore to cut animal hides, the Elidduites were already wearing well-tailored clothes and sitting at tables enjoying cooked food with utensils. Every Elidduite knew that without the Emperor, they were no different from those still living in reed and mud-brick houses and using stone tools. At least twenty years ago, the Elidduites were no different from other civilizations; only the wealthiest residents could afford food made from animal fat.

This sense of pride derived from civilization is the source of loyalty.

But the Emperor's goals have always been pragmatic; Elidu's existence might simply be a tool to fight the Kree. Captain Miller wondered how the Emperor would treat Elidu after this war against the alien civilization ended. After all, information about Elidu was extremely scarce in all future archaeological work. Did this mean the Emperor would abandon the city? But it was too late to say anything now. Captain Miller was certain that if he raised any questions here, Appagne would point a gun at his head, completely disregarding his former professorship and current membership in the council.

"It's true, the emperor will come here."

Apagne smiled broadly upon receiving the answer. He unsealed the parchment scroll and quickly scanned the text written on it. "An order from the Royal Guard. The Emperor will arrive in a month, and we must prepare in advance," Apagne said, looking at the contents of the parchment. "This is truly good news. But how will the Emperor get here, Master? It's been half a year since we arrived at Eli. Will He ride the legendary flaming chariot?"

"You know that's not some kind of flaming chariot."

“Of course we know, but others don’t, not even the Egyptians. They need help even to smelt copper ore. Besides, a chariot of fire sounds better than a transport plane, doesn’t it?” Appagne stamped his seal and the station’s seal on the parchment with satisfaction. “There’s also a jar of wine on the station’s next resupply list. I’d like to share this fine wine with you, Master.”

"As far as I know, most of the wine in the temple is now sold to local landowners," Captain Miller said with a smile as he put away the parchment. "When you receive the jar, you'd better check if there's a temple seal on the seal. I'm sure you know what wine made from wild grapes tastes like."

Appagne stuck out his tongue.

"That was just some silly thing that happened during my school days. There's no need to hold a grudge for so long, Master Miller. I just stole a bottle of wine from your cabinet."

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"It's almost time, Inanna."

"Wait a little longer!"

Salomon stood at the doorway and rolled his eyes in annoyance.

Commander Constantine of the Royal Guard looked at his master with some surprise. The Emperor rarely displayed emotional behavior, yet now, facing Inanna, he seemed to possess the same expressions one would show when interacting with a witch. The Commander didn't know whether this was a good thing or a bad thing. However, this was the Emperor's private matter. Although the Royal Guard Order had the right to offer advice, each member of the Royal Guard felt it unnecessary to express any opinion.

"We're going to be late," the Emperor warned. "No one can be late when facing Agamotto."

"We'll go through the portal, not the carriage, won't we?" Inanna stepped out of the room. "Agomot is a man to be taken seriously; he's far more powerful than those Wild Gods."

"I believe Agamotto wouldn't care about this. This is his last time using his physical body to roam the universe, and I need to discuss the next steps with him. This is important; if you're interested, you'll learn many secrets."

"That's why I need elaborate eye makeup. Look, isn't there something different?"

Inanna wore an exquisite gown sewn for her by professional weavers at the emperor's command, and adorned herself with all the jewels that could be used as ceremonial objects. She looked like a statue wrapped in gold and jewels. The clothing style of this era would continue into the Roman period, and the parasol worn by Inanna was the most standard noblewoman's attire. The emperor had no doubt that if she walked in the sunlight, she would turn into a ball of light that shone with fire and reflected many beams of light. If it weren't for that lion skin cloak, she would have harmed the retinas of many innocent residents of Elidu.

"Your eye makeup is a little different from last time. Would you like me to take some measurements with a laser ruler?"

"How thoughtful of you, darling," Inanna said, hands on her hips, sounding annoyed. "Why are you still wearing that robe? I'm not saying your robe isn't good enough, but you should be wearing your armor and carrying your weapons. That's how you demonstrate your war power. We're facing a real Old God; who knows if he'll kill us!"

"I believe Agamotto won't care about my attire." Seeing Inanna still displaying her jewelry and weapons before him, the Emperor could only sigh. "He's the only one in the world I can talk to about the problems the world is about to face. I believe he doesn't want us dead. In fact, I'm absolutely certain of that."

The emperor rubbed the sky-blue gemstone ring on his finger.

This Heavenly Primal Ring represents Agamotto.

Getting Inanna to wear clothes was no easy task; it took the emperor at least twenty years. Before that, due to the hot, humid climate and nascent moral values, Eriduan women dressed quite loosely, with many women in poorer villages choosing to go topless. Inanna, who had been raised on the Mesopotamian plains, embraced the same ideas, and had it not been for the emperor's specific request more than twenty years earlier, she would have only worn a linen skirt and a lion-skin cloak when receiving Eriduan women and priestesses each week.

With advancements in productivity and the expansion of trade routes, Inanna now had a wider selection of clothing to choose from, but in her mind, nudity remained a sacred matter. When she was about to face the oldest shaman among humankind, she considered it as sacred as holy marriage. Every night, when she requested a holy marriage with the emperor to bless the prosperity of the land, she would ensure she wore nothing but gold jewelry. For early humans, reproduction was not about satisfying lust but about increasing population; later moral concepts did not apply at that time.

She represents childbirth and reproduction; indulgence is her nature, a praiseworthy virtue.

At least four thousand years from now, under the combined influence of the development of human civilization, the decline of the wild gods, and the evolution of humanity's need for religion, only a monarchy with a flawless human system that overlooks all human weaknesses and is without moral blemish can reject the primitive divine authority represented by Inanna. The emperor never told Inanna about these future changes because they were irrelevant to the creatures they were about to face.

Agamotto.

The name had evolved into a title, and even the most frenzied soul would become cautious and careful when uttering those few syllables. To the gods of the wilderness, Agamotto's power and immortal soul made him seem more like a deity than a human, despite his repeated claims of being human. Many of the wilderness gods considered Agamotto one of their own. Just as Inanna viewed the Emperor, Inanna was no exception; in her eyes, the Emperor was one of the wilderness gods, and so was Agamotto. In a sense, Inanna was correct—Agamotto was still a spirit created by Oshtu, one of the first ancient gods born from the planet, and Hoggs, another ancient god from another planet. This spirit took human form on Earth millions of years ago, and took the name Agamotto—having a human body did not mean becoming human, a concept Inanna constantly reiterated to the Emperor, although the Emperor believed that choices from within defined humanity more than the human body, and he believed Agamotto shared the same idea.

Agamotto is dying now.

His soul is immortal, but his body cannot bear this immortal power.

"This is the second time we've been face-to-face in a physical sense."

Before the emperor, the gaunt, emaciated old shaman, dressed in a tattered crimson robe, sat cross-legged on the ground, his body covered in dust that almost blended him into the cave nestled in the frigid mountains. The cave showed little sign of life; the snow pouring in from the entrance ruthlessly buried what appeared to be earthenware pots on the ground. The temperature here was extremely low, far lower than when the future emperor had lived here; apart from water bears, no other natural creature could survive. Having always lived in the humid, warm plains of Mesopotamia, Inanna clearly didn't know how to maintain her body temperature in such an environment. She could only pull her lion-skin cloak tighter around her neck, letting the icy winds blowing into the cave make the golden lapis lazuli necklace around her neck jingle.

"I knew who you were, kid, when that idiot Odin tried to take humanity, evolved by psychic powers, off this planet. I'm glad my plan succeeded, at least much better than that fool Paul's son. Tell me, how did they fare?"

"It is facing destruction. There is no doubt that Bauer and Odin's attempt to fight against the outer dimensions has failed. Asgard cannot escape its predetermined fate. Ragnarok is just a feast where the outer dimensions harvest souls."

The emperor did not answer; it was a thin ghost in the cave that actually spoke.

"Teacher," the emperor said, bowing his head and smiling, "I never expected to see you here."

"You will find the answer to the greatest mystery here," the Sorcerer Supreme said, standing beside Agamotto. "The secrets this planet is unwilling to tell you, Agamotto will tell you."

"If I remember correctly, I am the Sorcerer Supreme of this era."

"Before you stands my student. I raised him, watched him learn to walk and read, watched him don armor, take up arms, and fight our eternal enemy with sword and wisdom. Therefore, before him, I am the Sorcerer Supreme." The Ancient One spoke with a smile, utterly unreserved. "As far as I know, he was not your original plan. Your, Ostu's, and Hoggs's original plan failed; you will become the Vishanti. You are powerless to stop the outer dimensions from encroaching upon the material plane. Abandoning your physical bodies and supporting him with all your power is your only option. He already knows his mission; you must explain to him how this planet nurtured him. Only then can you ensure your plan stays on track."

Agamotto wasn't angry at the Ancient One's rudeness; after all, becoming a Vishanti was an inevitable outcome.

"Are you sure you want to share this secret with your spouse?" He looked at the Emperor. "This secret is known only to the future Vishanti, the successive Sorcerers, and the consciousness of this planet. This is the greatest gamble in the universe, with all the souls in this universe and every microscopic particle in this material plane as the stakes. If the plan fails, nothing will be left of this universe."

"I brought her here." The emperor reached out and pulled Inanna before him. The queen of heaven, the goddess of sex and war, trembled with excitement. "My soul and hers will be bound together by fate; my plans cannot be separated from her."

“I can guess what your wish to save the world is, child.” Agamotto struggled to his feet, the cold little stone clutched in his palm bearing rough scars from countless scrapes and heals. “I need to correct some of your misconceptions, and the misunderstandings your teacher has held all along. This planet is not your true mother—the word ‘nurture’ is not quite accurate. This planet merely provides you with nourishment. One atom in this stone in my hand will become part of flesh and blood millions of years from now—the things you once thought constituted your soul, that innate knowledge, are not part of you. They are merely nourishment for the soul, a sacrifice; knowledge is just a byproduct.”

"Sacrificial offerings?" The emperor had a premonition that he wouldn't like the answer that followed.

"Sacrifices are only offered to the gods. The true gods are not the ancient gods born of this planet, nor the wild gods born from the corpses of nature spirits. I believe the evil spirits from the abyss repeated a word to you: the Seventh Throne. That was your throne. So how were you dragged off, Salomon?" Agamotto said with a smile. "I am about to die. Before I discard my physical body, how do you think I can forever eliminate one of the enemies this universe will face?"