Marvel Magic Case Files

Chapter 1737 Seventy-Two Hours

"What's the point of him coming back! We've been looking for him for so long, we've tried guinea divination, bird divination, we were just short of asking Lady Butterfly and Lady Styx!" Joan of Arc cursed, arms crossed. Divination is an extremely exhausting task; searching for answers from all the vague omens is tiring enough, let alone personally slaughtering a lamb and removing its entrails. This kind of work requires extensive cleaning afterward; on the day of the guinea divination, she soaked in the bathtub for a full two hours to get rid of the mutton smell.

Every breeze here carried the stench of feces and industrial waste; she didn't want to stay here a second longer. Thinking of the effort and time she had invested, Joan of Arc wished Salomon would appear before her immediately, making her empty her magazine or strike her with his sword. Extremely agitated, Joan tried to calm herself with deep breaths, but the stench only worsened her mood.

"Our divination triggered his defenses, which is why he came looking for you? Now he's probably hiding in fear, isn't he? Also, this quest was probably issued to us by Kamar-Taj. Quests in the South Asian subcontinent are all Kamar-Taj's territory; he must have some kind of conspiracy to bring us here!"

"Do you see him as a schemer?"

Bayonetta smiled and waved, then went through the portal and returned to Oxfordshire Manor.

"He told me that the Vishanti no longer respond to the Kamar-Taj mages' requests. The mages have lost their safest source of magic and can only draw from the most primal and violent outer dimensional energy." The black-haired witch shrugged. She had never understood the sense of superiority of those mortal mages of Kamar-Taj. As the oldest lineage in the world, they certainly had the right to be arrogant, but they weren't Agamotto or the Sorcerer Supreme. The thought of those usually high and mighty mages now frowning and cautiously drawing outer dimensional energy made Bayonetta chuckle.

"I never felt that Vishanti's magic was much safer than the original outer dimensional energy. The drawbacks of physical mutation still exist, but it is safe enough for arcane mages."

"This is big news." Joan of Arc frowned, kicking off her high heels. High heels served their original purpose in the Indian subcontinent; the feeling of stepping on an unknown, foul-smelling, soft material sent chills down her spine. Now, her shoe closet was forever missing a pair of shoes; she would never wear those high heels again.

"What does Kamar-Taj losing its safe source of magic have to do with him hiding outside?"

Bayonetta also tossed aside her high heels. She took the sparkling wine from the android maid; the chilled drink finally offered her respite from the heat of the Indian subcontinent. Feeling better, Bayonetta said slowly, "When he came back, he told me an ancient story. Do you remember the creation myth? The oldest one, the one that tells the story before life even began."

"Mother Earth and the Creator gave birth to Atum, ending the invasion of the extradimensional evil gods from ancient Earth?" Joan of Arc slumped onto the sofa, enjoying the coolness of the air conditioning. She didn't want to move at all now, and she made up her mind never to take on a mission near the equator again.

"Almost no one believes in this kind of myth."

"In the end, Atum, having devoured all the invaders from other dimensions, was cast into the sun." Bayonetta finished her glass of ice-cold liquor in one gulp, finally catching her breath after being tormented by the sweltering, humid air. "Could Salomon, also created by Mother Earth, possess the same abilities?"

"I don't understand." Joan of Arc sensed something terrible, but she was unsure.

"To be more precise, isn't he the second Atem? A long time ago, he told me that the stigmata he possessed at birth contained magical knowledge from the multiverse. Isn't that a manifestation of the authority of the God Eater Atem?" Bayonetta said to Jeanne while instructing the android maid to prepare bathwater. "The myth ends with Atem throwing himself into the sun, purifying evil, and the gods being born from the source material purified by Atem—I believe this planet doesn't have the capacity to create a second Atem, so the material Mother Earth used to create Salomon is very likely the first Atem, or more precisely, Atem after purifying himself by throwing himself into the sun. Mother Earth wouldn't let go of such a useful tool."

Joan of Arc was still reeling from the overwhelming information. She could only pick up her wine glass, take a sip, and then another.

It wasn't until she drank her fifth glass of sparkling wine that she recovered. Even for an ancient clan passed down through generations, the myth of Atum was too distant. Even though she had known for a long time that Salomon's birth was related to Mother Earth, the idea that Salomon himself might be a deity that existed before the birth of the Wild Gods still seemed like a fantasy to her.

Bayonetta's expression was serious; she wasn't joking.

Joan of Arc knew perfectly well that Salomon's suggestion was behind her words, or perhaps it was Salomon's own idea being voiced through Bayonetta. The black-haired witch raised her glass. "The current situation at Kamar-Taj is very likely related to him; otherwise, he wouldn't have bothered to seek me out and recount this meaningless myth."

"You mean, he devoured Vishanti? That's an extradimensional deity that existed before the birth of humankind!" Joan of Arc exclaimed in astonishment. A deity, from the moment of its birth, exists across the past, present, and future. Vishanti existed before Oshutu or the oldest Hogos—deities are born in the extradimensional world every moment, and those that are not powerful enough are devoured by other extradimensional deities or dissipate in the terrifying extradimensional waves—until Agamotto ascended, the veil was slowly drawn back, revealing the powerful Triune Vishanti, capable of existing even in the extradimensional waves.

The Vishanti, like Laggardor, Ekorn, and Vatum, are lesser gods, representing a certain power. While they are not as powerful as the ultimate gods who represent concepts, each of them is an existence older than the physical universe. They are far beyond the gods born of worship on Earth, the naturally occurring wild gods, or the self-proclaimed gods of Asgard. Their sphere of influence is not limited to Earth or any particular star system, but is widely present across multiple intelligent races.

"If the assumption is true, then his current situation is quite bad."

Bayonetta curled the corners of her mouth.

All her anger was vented yesterday, and she knew that Salomon was not to blame. As an existence whose very birth was part of a plan, Salomon's purpose was to save the world. However, he intended for her to control this sword, which is why this situation occurred.

"Trapped in the vessel of humanity, he cannot control this power, so he cannot explain the situation directly, but can only let us know the truth through indirect means. Any action of his, even just thinking, will cause a reaction in the outer dimensions, just as a massive celestial body can distort gravity and light, which is a phenomenon rather than an existence," Bayonetta said. "Compared to calculating universal gravitation, he is still very easy to understand, and even his hints are so straightforward."

Joan of Arc thought a lot.

Whether Vishanti still exists is irrelevant to the witch. The Shadow Witch has no alliance with Vishanti. Her power comes from other-dimensional demons like Lady Butterfly and Lady Styx, who are even inferior to lesser deities like Vishanti—she's concerned with something else entirely—the ancient Atum, after devouring all other-dimensional demons, completely fell and became a terrifying God Eater. What will Salomon become after devouring Vishanti?

This matter is very important to the witch; no one wants their ally to turn into a terrifying monster.

"Why would he do this?" Joan of Arc asked. "I don't see any conflict between him and the Vishanti. The cooperation between Kamar-Taj and the Vishanti has always been smooth."

"Neither Oshutu nor Hogos are human; only Agamotto is human."

Bayonetta squinted, recalling the whispers Salomon had made to her the night before.

"When Agamotto became Vishanti from the first Sorcerer Supreme, whatever his initial aspirations when he founded Kamar-Taj, the Vishanti's goal was no longer salvation. Humanity meant nothing to the Vishanti; the magic that provided security for Kamar-Taj was merely because it was Agamotto who founded it—his power differed from the Vishanti's; he needed humanity, the Vishanti did not—remember those three legendary rings that could control the Vishanti?"

"That happened so long ago... So, did he plan from the beginning that this would be the outcome? As far as I know, he was only twelve years old at the time!"

"I believe he didn't know about this before he experienced time travel, otherwise he would definitely have told me."

Bayonetta didn't intend to tell Jeanne that she actually knew when the plan was conceived; she remembered every detail clearly, as if it had happened just recently. Inanna, the original Shadow Witch, the goddess from the wilderness—Bayonetta saw all of this through Inanna's dreams. However, Bayonetta wasn't sure what her relationship with Inanna was, because the Shadow Witch's books didn't record Inanna's final fate.

Legend has it that Inanna was a goddess with the head of a feline, capable of transforming into a snake or a bird—a complete lineage that is now undeniable proof that all witches can transform into felines, snakes, and birds. When she entered Elidu, she transformed from a beast into a human deity, receiving offerings from humankind. Inanna selected a group of talented priestesses to form the first Shadow Witches, and after ruling the oldest city of Elidu for many years, she followed the emperor to settle in the mountains of Asia, where they built a palace.

Many researchers of Shadow Witches believe that the so-called palace is actually a fragment of an outer dimension.

Since then, Inanna has disappeared into the annals of history. No written records or legends can prove her whereabouts, and no one can find her. It is very likely that Kunlun, the neighbor of Kamar-Taj, was built on the foundation of that palace, and perhaps the so-called dragon of Kunlun was Inanna's pet.

"By the way, where is Wanda?" Bayonetta asked.

Joan of Arc looked around, then suddenly realized something. "Damn it, he took Wanda away! Looks like he's in big trouble; even the witch apprentice has to be dragged into this! If Vishanti can't provide power to the Kamar-Taj sorcerers, then what about those things he hid in Kamar-Taj…?"

"Madam," the android maid said, a towel draped over her arm, "the bathroom is ready."

Bayonetta stretched. "Thank you, Nina, you know the perfect water temperature," she said to Jeanne. "Since we haven't gone to help yet, it means the situation is under control, and I trust his judgment. It's spa time now; maybe he'll bring Wanda back by dinnertime!"

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When Salomon reappeared before Wanda, the red-haired witch was astonished to find that the crucible-like spiritual energy she had once felt in him, even with her eyes closed, was gone. If he hadn't arrived at the manor through a portal, Wanda would have thought her teacher had lost his godlike spiritual power.

She knew this was impossible, so she simply assumed Salomon had used some kind of covert method.

As a participant in the witch's prophecy ritual, she could clearly feel that the magical power expended in prophesying Salomon's location far exceeded the combined limits that Bayonetta, Joan of Arc, and herself could exert. This must be the effect of some kind of anti-prophecy spell.

"Where's Milia?" Salomon asked the girl who was being fostered at the manor.

"The maids have taken her to her sorority school," Wanda said. "Lady Bayonetta and Lady Joan of Arc are not at the manor. Should we leave them a message?"

"They'll find out." Salomon led the way through the portal, followed closely by Wanda Maximov. Her eyes widened as she peered curiously into the space on the other side of the portal. It was a manor bathed in the light of dawn. A neatly dressed, elderly black man with gray hair stood upright beside the portal. The moment he saw Wanda, he greeted her with a smile, his excessive politeness even making Wanda feel somewhat flustered.

Fortunately, she saw someone more familiar, the android maid Dina who would always follow her master.

"Where is this?" Wanda asked curiously.

"California, the Savage family's vacation home." Wanda looked at her teacher with a puzzled expression, and the latter said slowly, "I am Savage."

"I've read DC Comics; this name belongs to a villain." She pouted, gazing at the sea below the distant cliffs. The orange-red sunlight rippled gently across the water, shattering into countless reflective mirrors—a view that California's wealthy would gladly spend their money on. "Anyone who knows you can guess that this is your alias."

"I'm not the only immortal being in this world." Salomon shook his head, then looked at the butler and Dinah beside him. "Please prepare a bedroom for Wanda. The bed in the master bedroom is big enough to fit five people."

Before the sun fully rose and the air retained the coolness of the night, Dinah set out a parasol, a small round table, and a bottle of chilled champagne on the lawn in the backyard of the manor. "Why did you bring me here? Oh... thank you, Dinah." Wanda took the glass of champagne Dinah offered. "We've been searching for you for a long time using prophecy, and then you just suddenly appeared. If I'm not mistaken, you've actually been hiding among us all along, and the Savage family is definitely not your only alias."

"You guessed partly right, Wanda. I'm glad you thought of that. Maybe you could open a detective agency someday." Salomon seemed pleased. Even Natasha didn't realize that the Savage family wasn't the only alias he used. The Savage family was in Texas because Texas is located in the Midwest, not too far from the East or West Coast, and Houston isn't too far from the Mexican border, making it convenient for carrying out illegal activities or covering up traces.

The Savage family is the center of his network across the United States, extending from East Coast gangs to West Coast politicians. Their network reaches every important figure, gathering intelligence for the emperor's throne. As a family as old as American history itself, the Savage family is not a Silicon Valley high-tech upstart that can make money with stocks and stories, or bribe politicians with political donations to gain political status. For them, guns and knives, not legal statutes, are the tools the Savage spirit uses to repel the hyenas of greed.

Salomon had no intention of telling Wanda about this bloody history of their rise to power; after all, the Savage family was merely an intelligence-gathering tool operating in North America. He then told some trivial stories, such as how, to maintain the Savage family's network of connections, he had to constantly prepare false identities and attend higher education institutions in the United States every few decades.

However, he didn't want to play house with those wealthy families, so he disappeared after graduating from college, which led to the rumor in Houston that "the Savage family heir disappears after graduating from college." These stories made Wanda giggle, and Salomon herself didn't know what was so funny. Why had the red-haired witch's threshold for laughter suddenly become so low?

“You’re definitely not here to talk to me about making money and going to college, teacher.” Wanda shook her head. “I predicted Natasha was in America. Haven’t you contacted her? She’s wanted by the US government now. I believe you wouldn’t let her be in such a dangerous situation, suffering from pursuit and insomnia. That’s how you treated me in the past. You can’t bear to see us suffer any harm.”

"You've become cunning, Wanda."

The Scarlet Witch smiled and raised her glass in a toast. Salomon could only reluctantly clink glasses with her. The Scarlet Witch happily wiggled her toes on the ground. "You guessed it," he said, "I'm with Natasha right now. She's at Cape Vede, discussing with her sister how to rescue her former colleagues. I'm just providing supplies; she can handle the rest." He continued, "I plan to go to Zurich with Natasha, and then we'll go our separate ways to complete our respective missions."

“But I’m here.” Wanda stared at Salomon’s face, trying to find any trace of a lie. After a long while, she reluctantly admitted that she had gained nothing. “What do you need my help with?” she said, somewhat resignedly. “Beyond, Joan of Arc, Natasha, and me—do you want to add anyone else?”

"Of course not. I plan to give the Savage family to you and Natasha, since you two are the closest."

Wanda blinked, suddenly remembering Bayonetta's attitude towards her. She recalled those nights in the New York penthouse, the nights she and Natasha had shared. These memories instantly made her hot and flushed; she remembered her promise to Natasha to raise a new life together.

"Natasha is about to conceive; I saw it in the prophecy." Wanda's eyes widened; she suspected her teacher had used a superficial mind-reading technique on her. "The Savage family has existed since the beginning of America. After more than two hundred years of accumulating wealth, the Savage family has a vast network of connections in Texas and California. But you must understand that this is a free country that glorifies the survival of the fittest. For the upper echelons, the law is merely a tool to restrain the weak."

"I don't think those idiots can cause Natasha any trouble," Wanda muttered, putting down her glass. "You'd better tell the truth, or I'll start believing your lies."

"I wasn't lying, but that's only part of the reason. More importantly, it's the witch's possessiveness." Salomon sighed. "Unless she approves of a woman, lying in bed with me will ultimately mean fighting her with guns and swords. Black Widow is still mortal, no matter how powerful she is. She's no match for a witch. You and Natasha are the closest; no one else can help her."

“Doesn’t Natasha have a sister?” Wanda retorted. “Laura Crawford is only human. I can sense that Lady Bayonetta really wants her to join your bedroom parties, and you like her too. Does her title make any difference?”

"Besides you and Natasha, no one else will have the surname Savage." Salomon raised his hands in surrender, appearing completely innocent. "You are now a qualified Shadow Witch, at least in terms of personality."

"Lady Bayonetta and Lady Joan of Arc have given me so much guidance, I can't betray them," Wanda smiled sweetly. "If you tell the witches about this yourself, they won't let you off easily, that's why you need me to help Natasha, right?"

"Beunita likes you very much." Salomon didn't seem to intend to refute. "Oxfordshire Manor will always be open to you."

"Tell me why you're hiding outside, and what you're going to do in Northern Europe. I don't think Natasha could make you so obsessed with the bed for so long; you must have some kind of plan."

"About the Vishanti." Salomon's smile vanished, as if all the flirting and joking from before had disappeared. He directly showed Wanda the three rings on the finger of his right hand—Wanda had long known the legend of these three rings, but she thought it too far-fetched that possessing these three rings could command the Vishanti; such a powerful deity could not possibly be restrained by magical artifacts—then she saw Salomon easily remove the rings, as if they had lost all power; the metal oxidized, the gems dimmed, and the legendary curse that once worn, could not be removed had no effect whatsoever.

There is only one possibility: that Vishanti is unable to maintain the curse.

Salomon tells Wanda about his and Agamotto's plans in the Himalayas eight thousand years ago, before Kamar-Taj was officially established. "The sudden disappearance of the Vishanti will trigger a series of reactions in the outer dimensions, but the situation is still under control, and Kamar-Taj hasn't caused any trouble," Salomon says. "However, I don't want certain beings to know about this, especially the dying king—humanity's interests are not aligned with Asgard's—a dying lion will struggle and retaliate desperately. I must conceal my power to seize the largest portion of Ragnarok's legacy."

The prophecy of Ragnarok has already come true, and Fimbulwinter has arrived. As a witch, Wanda can naturally sense the undercurrents lurking beneath the calm surface of the Outer Dimension Sea. Countless lives will be annihilated in this catastrophe, becoming nourishment for the Sea of ​​Souls. Asgard has been waiting for that day since its rise.

Wanda couldn't fathom the terrifying power Asgard would unleash in its death throes, but she trusted Salomon's assessment of Asgard. If the Aesir couldn't maintain their dominance, the dying king would fight tooth and nail to kill any potential successors. The Allfather was currently residing in Norse mythology, and no one believed he was there on vacation. Kamar-Taj believed he was there to monitor humanity, their greatest ally and greatest threat—once only the Sorcerer Supreme could stand against the Allfather within the Nine Realms, but now Kamar-Taj's successor, the new Lord of Humanity, possessed power comparable to the Sorcerer Supreme, enough to warrant the Allfather's serious attention.

"So, war?" Wanda sat up straight, her expression serious. "What can I do?"

"The so-called Hall of Heroes, the so-called Goddess of Death, are all Asgard's trump cards to overturn the gambling table. Hela cannot stay on Earth; she must go to Asgard and start the war. Bayonetta and Joan of Arc are the first line of defense; you will be facing another person, the Queen of the Gods, Frigga."

"That's one of the most powerful mages in the Nine Realms."

"The Queen's life has come to an end." Salomon tapped his fingers lightly on the table, frowned, and finally sighed. "If the Allfather is willing to accept his fate, you don't need to lift a finger. I don't think Frigga will actively fight us; it would be pointless. But that old lion will never bow to fate; he has more faith in the spear in his hand."

"Are you planning to launch an attack?"

"A duel of honor. Perhaps he waited for this day after handing Gungnir over to Kamar-Taj. This is a duel for kings, a duel to decide who will be the protagonist of the next era. You, Bayonetta, and Joan of Arc are all here to ensure this duel is not disturbed." Salomon's tone was full of confidence. "I will not fail. Asgard is doomed, and the Nine Realms, this outer dimension, tells us that the Path of the Seas will belong to humanity."

"My lady, the room is ready." The old butler brought over a tray with a bath towel on it. "Mistress," he nodded to Wanda, "I hope you like the bedroom decor."

Salomon winked playfully at Wanda. "The weather in California is perfect for swimming right now. Want to try the pool here?" As Wanda, led by Diana, walked towards the backyard, he said to the old butler, "Jamie, your granddaughter has retired from the Marines, hasn't she?"

"Yes, my lord."

"Please ask her for me if she's interested in becoming Wanda's housekeeper. Wanda is too kind; she's not suited for this dog-eat-dog world. Natasha is too guilty about her past blood debts to kill again. I hope Jenna hasn't forgotten the skills she learned in the army; eliminating those idiots who tried to drag the Savage family into the army's drug trafficking network will be her first test."

"It is her honor, my lord," the old butler said, bowing his head. "I will grant her access to the armory."

Wanda loved the villa's pool, and the red bikini Salomon chose for her suited her perfectly.

The temperature in California rises rather quickly in the morning, and by midday, the scorching sun has made the outdoor pool unsuitable for relaxation. As she emerged from the pool, Salomon was meeting with several guests in the villa's living room. Through the glass of the living room, she saw a blonde woman in a suit standing in front of Salomon. Wanda instinctively examined her superficial thoughts, but her thoughts reflected back to her as if in a mirror.

Another elderly man, with a weathered face but an air of great charisma, left a deep impression on her. The malice emanating from his very bones was chilling. Even the old butler left the reception room after calling the guest by name, as if he didn't want to stay with that man for even a second longer.

"Who is that?" Wanda asked while drying her hair. "I sensed some extremely terrifying black magic."

The old butler, who was holding the orange juice, frowned.

"The vampire, that demon, has to be checked by the master every so often. When he dies depends entirely on when the master makes his move. He's a creature lower than a hunting dog. The master only lets him live because it's inconvenient for him to deal with those politicians and businessmen." He softened his tone, treating Wanda like a mistress. "The master will be back in his room soon. Will you wait for him there?"

Wanda knew that what followed was beyond her control; even though the Savage family had been handed over to her and Natasha, the work still had to be done by people appointed by Salomon.

When she returned to the Oxfordshire manor, it was already dinnertime. Bayonetta didn't ask anything; simply smelling Wanda's scent made the red-haired witch blush deeply. Wanda's shyness prompted the witch to poke her cheeks while asking about Salomon's behavior. The topics between the witch and the sorceress were ridiculously explicit. If dinner hadn't already been served, Bayonetta wouldn't have let this adorable witch off so easily; she would have made sure she was too embarrassed to lift her head.

"We're having a pajama party in Joan of Arc's room tonight," the black-haired witch said.

"We don't have pajamas, and you said they're too ugly," Joan rolled her eyes. "Why not have a pajama party in the master bedroom instead of coming to my room?"

"That's why we're having a pajama party. My big boy is so strong, he knocked over the antique furniture!" Bayonetta said with a grin, eliciting a snort from Jeanne. The white-haired witch could guess Bayonetta's thoughts with her toes; Wanda was more Bayonetta's person than Salomon's.

When Salomon was still at the Oxfordshire manor, they would sleep peacefully in the master bedroom at night. Now Bayonetta seems to have some interest in Laura Crawford as well, and the latter probably wouldn't mind joining their game (the Crawford family needs an heir sooner or later, and Winston, the Crawford family's butler, is very supportive of this idea).

The clever black-haired witch had long seen through Salomon's little scheme, so she didn't blame Wanda for "defecting," after all, Wanda had already joined the witch's game. The female spy wasn't important; if Salomon liked this mortal, she wouldn't mind letting him keep his toy.

Salomon and the witch are both too powerful; their psychic genes are difficult to combine, far more difficult than the combination of a sage and a witch. Bayonetta's own birth was a miracle. The best way to replicate this miracle would be through artificial intervention, but Bayonetta refuses this approach, and her competitive spirit won't allow Natasha to take the lead in this area.

Bayonetta was easily coaxed into smiling when Wanda brought back enough champagne for Salomon to fill the bathtub. Joan of Arc was also a little angry, but for the sake of the rosé champagne bath, she decided to fire one less magazine of Salomon's ammunition.

"When did he decide to start?" Bayonetta lay back on the sofa, her long, shapely legs crossed and draped over the armrest at the other end. Wanda seemed a little slow to react, so the witch had to remind her, "When will he arrive in Zurich?"

"He didn't tell me," Wanda swallowed her dinner wine. "They say Gungnir will be shipped to Norway in 72 hours."