Marvel Magic Case Files

Chapter 548 A Cruel Mission (First Update)

She wore a red dress, riding a lithe mare slowly through the beech forest. Sunlight filtering through the leaves made her white hair and skin almost translucent, like a light white veil floating on earth. She tilted her head back, the morning dew glistening on her long eyelashes, as if she were immersed in the delicate melody played by the newly sprouted leaves. She was like a flame leaping in the forest, roaming among the verdant green hidden by fallen leaves. A few solitary trees were scattered across the meadows, heather and rockroses grew at the natural boundaries of the woodland, and maples and firs stood alone on the banks of the Thames. This was a priceless oasis on the bustling Thames, where the paths through the lush broadleaf forest had remained untrodden for 152 years.

The horse's hooves carefully traversed the calcified moss community and numerous Mediterranean shrubs, stopping before Salomon. Joan of Arc looked down at the sorcerer. A hazy, shimmering light enveloped her, as if she had brought the dawn into the shadows. Before Salomon could explain his purpose, she flicked the reins, and the docile mare trod a few small steps to the side, her hooves treading on the black humus as if on the A Dorian scale.

Salomon reached out and embraced her waist, his other hand slipping under her legs to easily lift her from the horse, as if holding an exquisitely beautiful doll. "I'm going to name this horse," Joan declared, holding the reins in one hand, asserting her ownership of the brown mare. "Ines, she's a gentle horse."

"This is your freedom." Salomon's hand didn't leave Joan's slender waist, and she was used to the intimate contact from the sorcerer. Her other hand lightly rested on Salomon's, like hands gracefully joined in a dance. Fingertips touched shyly, all emotions enveloped in luxurious black silk gloves, floating on the dotted halo of light projected from between the leaves of an ancient star 150 million kilometers away. "Beyuneta has chosen a thoroughbred, and she's galloping around the stables with Pegasus right now! Hopefully, the horse won't be frightened by Pegasus's large wings," Salomon said. This place had been uninhabited for over a century and a half, and during World War II it was used as a US Air Force retirement center, so many of the manor's renovations had fallen into disrepair and required extensive repairs. And the renovations were taking an absurdly long time; the impatient witches, upon learning that the stables were finished, couldn't wait to come to the manor to ride horses.

"She named the horse 'Vernier Caliper,' and I'm pretty sure it wasn't to cater to my love of science."

Don't expect me to thank you.

"It's my pleasure."

"You!" Her clear, pale gray eyes, almost greenish, sized the sorcerer up and down. "You usually try to argue with me around this time." She raised her voice, as light as a feather brushing against him, "Did Seresa whip you too hard yesterday? Poor little thing, are you here to ask for a kiss?"

"You know perfectly well what kind of game we play, Joan of Arc," Salomon said with a laugh. "Haven't you always been eager to join in?"

"If you want me to shoot you." Joan of Arc pulled her hand away from Salomon's grasp, raised her head, and led the reins toward the manor's horse stables. "What do you want to say?" Her pearly white hair fluttered in the breeze. "You must have something to say to me."

“I’ve already told Bayonetta,” Salomon said. “I’m going on a business trip to another dimension. It’s dangerous, but not too dangerous. The danger doesn’t come from the bizarre magical world, but from a half-human nightmare who’s traveling with me. Ordinary people can’t handle his pranks. Although it’s not good to speak ill of elders, for that guy, any humiliation is accurate and worthwhile.”

"You're going on a long trip? A long trip in the Kamar-Taj sense?"

"Yes," Salomon shrugged. "I think so."

"When are you coming back? Wait..." She suddenly stopped and turned to Salomon with a strange look. "You don't think I'd be reluctant to let you go, do you?" She grinned wickedly. "I believe Ceresia understood your responsibilities when she decided to be with you. Witches aren't the kind of women who fuss over nothing. As for me, I'm just living with her. I admit you're very good in bed, Niemand kann dir das Wasser reichen, do you think that's my expression of affection for you, man?"

"I swear I never thought that way."

Joan of Arc turned forward again, walking slowly, her small riding crop twirling gently in her hand. "Aren't you going to catch up?" she said after a while. "I'm pretty sure Ceresia wants to vent her emotions on you, in a way that's typical of witches."

"And what about you?" Salomon asked with a smile.

"Do you want me to shoot you, you idiot!?"

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"Ready to go?" A white-bearded old man in a dark yellow jacket and a plaid scarf paced excitedly, gesturing wildly. However, the two young men in front of him ignored him; one, the taller one, was chanting a spell for the other. The taller man pointed to the longsword at his waist, making a promise, which greatly relieved the other young man, who was clearly in a bad mood. No one knew why this damned old man was going to such lengths, but everyone knew Merlin had his own plans, and even the Sorcerer Supreme tacitly approved of this behavior—Merlin had no incompetent spellcasters under his command; he was the best teacher in history, and some things were better suited to be taught by Merlin, preparing these two young men to bear the weight of human responsibility.

Salomon has done well. In Merlin's eyes, he will bear all the suffering and fulfill his eternal mission. Salomon has accepted this cruel mission and is charging forward without looking back; he is the most perfect tool that Kamar-Taj has created over the millennia.

As an assistant, Dave still needs training. In the cruel and dark future, his strength and wisdom must rival Salomon's. He needs to go to the most demanding place in N-Gallei to maintain the seal of the Earth Mother Goddess and become a true druid. Only then can he truly inherit the core magic of the Merlin School and lead the Merlin Wizarding Order. This is a long process; even the Venerable's magic can only delay Dave's time. Separation is the cruelest of trials, especially for a young man like Dave. This is the trial Merlin has given him, Dave's fate after receiving the ring. Although cruel, it is his responsibility as the heir to the Merlin School. Everyone has their own responsibilities; no one can escape them.

No matter how much Veronica objected, it was no use. She tried to talk to Merlin, but the guilty half-breed Nightmare always avoided her until the day of departure arrived. "Don't be sad, little Dave," Merlin said calmly, showing no shame for Dave's prank. "We need to go to Xandar to get something to eat first, and then we'll set off." He casually hooked his arm around Dave's shoulder, dragging him towards the fixed portal to Kamar-Taj. "Once you're here, you'll have something to brag about! Just think how many girls will want to hear your alien adventures?"

Dave wasn't interested in that at all; he was only concerned with whether the Sorcerer Supreme's spell would actually work. Salomon had already arranged things in the Immortal City, and everything would proceed smoothly during his absence. Without delay, he took everything he needed and was the first to pass through the portal.

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(End of this chapter)