Marvel Magic Case Files

Chapter 257 The Schemes of Two Generations of Supreme Mages (Second Update!)

Salomon felt no pain in his palm. Although Oshurtu's power was white magic, all magic comes at a price. Given the immense amount of magic Salomon had unleashed, merely burning his palm was already a sign of Oshurtu's mercy. Joan of Arc and the other sorcerers watched Mephisto warily, while Bayonetta and the homunculi helped by administering a healing potion to Salomon and then pouring another potion into his palm. Salomon suddenly felt like a baby who still needed to be cared for. He wanted to break free, but the witch's embrace wouldn't allow him to refuse.

Especially Bayonetta's reproachful gaze always made Salomon feel that he had done something wrong.

Each arcane mage on a mission carries two of these alchemical potions: one for minor injuries and one for moderate injuries. There's also a shared potion of restoration for all four. These potions are made by Salomon using leftover materials from orders placed from various dimensions. His healing potions are highly praised for their minimal side effects, but spellcasters from other dimensions are unaware of the quantities of materials Salomon uses, allowing him to consistently profit.

Nick Fury's eyes lit up when he saw the potions. He had secretly kept some of the potions Salomon had given to Stark for research, but the results had been disappointing, necessitating the deployment of the biohazard emergency team. Now, the research materials were dwindling, while Salomon still had plenty. He planned to find an opportunity to discuss it with the arcane mages—life in Kamar-Taj was supposedly very inconvenient, and he thought he could be of assistance.

If they are still alive, facing the King of Hell face to face is not something that happens casually, and even if they do, they are not guaranteed to survive.

The crimson membrane of the Gates of Hell stretched outwards, as if the monsters on the other side were desperately trying to squeeze out. Mephisto, as the boss, was naturally pleased to see his employees' high spirits, but a sense of unease lingered within him. He raised an eyebrow defiantly at the arcane mages who dared not make a move; even outside the Hell dimension, these Kamar-Taj arcane mages were no match for him.

But Mephisto had his doubts: the army he had assembled wasn't some wild beasts crawling around in hell, but real demons. Although most of them were lower-ranking demons, Mephisto was the king of demons, and he knew what demons were like. A rigid hierarchical system rarely maintained the enthusiasm of employees; heavy punishments and a little reward were the best way to tame subordinates. This was something even the weakest lesser demons knew how to deal with superiors and subordinates, and how to transfer work pressure (although lesser demons no longer had subordinates; they were just the lowest-level, sticky punching bags, only able to mutter incoherent, terrible purgatory language that even demons couldn't understand when bullied by their superiors).

The devils only show such enthusiasm when it comes to promotions and raises, especially promotions. Although the promotion process is extremely painful, it means that this devil has taken a step up in the devil's community. Each step up is a life-or-death test of this devil's workplace survival skills: how to avoid becoming the boss's scapegoat? How to delegate heavy work to subordinates while gaining some benefits for oneself?

The problem is, Mephisto himself never said this operation would be counted towards performance! Even if lower-ranking demons die and can be reborn in Hell, they still have to wait in a long line, and their souls will be deducted for their efforts. They'll have to work for free for hundreds of years after being reborn! When did these lower-ranking demons become so enthusiastic about their work?

Could it be Lucifer wielding his whip from behind?

That's impossible. Putting aside whether Lucifer would be interested in Salomon Damonet or the Spirit of Vengeance that He has always held in His grasp, due to the war in Heaven millions of years ago, Lucifer's true form cannot leave Hell. He can only project a weak, steam-like phantom outside Hell, and this would cost him a great deal of power. Therefore, Lucifer would not be interested in anything outside Hell unless it would allow Him to escape from Hell.

Could it be Beelzebub? That's unlikely. Beelzebub was Lucifer's right-hand man. Although their relationship soured after his fall, these two fallen angels still cooperated in most situations. Lucifer wouldn't leave Hell, and neither would Beelzebub.

Just as Mephisto was racking his brains trying to figure out why his employees were so diligent, the light barrier preventing demons from entering the material plane was finally torn open by a dense mass of limbs. However, the low-ranking demons emerging from the gates of Hell did not show the excited expressions Mephisto had expected, which greatly puzzled the King of Hell—coming to the material plane to plunder souls was a rare opportunity for many demons, and even these inexperienced low-ranking demons knew it was a good time to make a fortune.

Before Mephisto could even capture a terrified imp to question him, a massive bolt of lightning shot out from the Gates of Hell, roasting the imp, which hadn't run far, alive. A figure in a black trench coat and a gas mask emerged from the Gates of Hell, followed by many figures dressed in the simple robes of the Kamar-Taj Cult, all of these sorcerers wearing gas masks. Mephisto was stunned by this scene. He watched as the lead spellcaster, carrying a long, rectangular metal box, led a group of men whose ages were obvious even from their faces, slowly filing out onto the still-warm, ashy ground. The younger sorcerers rushed forward to greet these old men.

Immediately afterward, Mephisto felt an unprecedented rage, and he quickly realized the loophole in the contract. While the Sorcerer Supreme could not interfere in the capture of avatars, the contract did not explicitly state where the Sorcerer Supreme could not act. Therefore, even if the Sorcerer Supreme went to destroy Mephisto's home, it would still be within the contract's stipulations for returning.

However, Mephisto cannot use any means of attack beyond legitimate self-defense in the Prime Material Plane; this is a restriction of the contract, a fair contract.

Screw fair contracts!

The Sorcerer Supreme! The Sorcerer Supreme is both cunning and cruel! Mephisto only regretted that he had overdone his acting. In order to prevent the Sorcerer Supreme from taking action, he deliberately showed his anxiety. He even signed the five-hundred-word contract, which should have been carefully considered for dozens of hours, after only half an hour!

It must be the Eye of Agamotto! The Eye of Agamotto saw what is happening now from the past!

This isn't the first time!

Mephisto had no idea what the Sorcerer Supreme intended, nor did he know how many demons the elderly sorcerers of Kamar-Taj had killed, or whether Kamar-Taj was about to launch a counterattack on Hell. He longed to rush back to his own territory to see for himself. He was not comfortable entrusting his territory to other Hell lords, who would only gleefully watch his territory be conquered and then open a bottle of wine to welcome their new neighbor.

The lead spellcaster ripped off his gas mask, and Nick Fury's eyes widened in surprise.

"Johnny Blaze! No, you just look like him."

"I am Balthazar of the Merlin School. You should say Ghost Rider looks like me, after all, I'm over a thousand years older than him." Balthazar turned to the Lord of Hell, patting his seemingly never-washed, filthy leather coat as if he were still wearing the splendor of a court wizard. "It is an honor to meet you, Lord of Hell."

Merlin! Merlin was both cruel and cunning! Mephisto's eyes widened. He clearly remembered the torment that old man Merlin had inflicted upon him. Although Kamar-Taj didn't exist then, Merlin's pranks far surpassed those of the current Sorcerer Supreme. Even though he was a devil, he needed sleep! Not every devil is as perpetually energetic as Lucifer, that fallen angel! Only fools don't need sleep! The torment Merlin inflicted on Mephisto during his time as Sorcerer Supreme wasn't limited to this; just thinking about it gave him a headache.

No, He had to go back! But when Mephisto tried to go back and close the gates of Hell, he discovered that control of the gates had slipped away from him without a sound.

The King of Hell stared wide-eyed, looking around.

Merlin!!!

"It's a pity my apprentice didn't see this, but he will always be your swordsman, Salomon." Balthazar looked at Salomon's almost healed hand, a smirk playing on his lips, and held up the long metal box in front of Salomon, waving it around.

"This conceptual weapon, designed to counter dimensional warfare, is one of the pillars that anchors the multiverse to the boundless quantum ocean. It's a god-level weapon," he said to Salomon, who was still holding the witch's hand. "This is something the Sorcerer Supreme once used. You must inherit it, without missing a single detail. Now, it's yours. I believe you can use it well and even tame it."

Balthazar turned to Mephisto and spoke.

"The Great Eternal King has sent me as a messenger to deliver a message to you, Your Excellency King of Hell," he said. "The King says the war has only just begun."

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Because I was too sleepy, I postponed the climax.

(End of this chapter)