Marvel Magic Case Files

Chapter 651 Thanksgiving and the Mayflower (Second Update)

"I thought we'd wiped out the Cologne Church in Scotland, so what's with this Cologne Church in America popping up now?" Cassirios's short, greyish-white hair was neatly combed down his back. The middle-aged man made a cool face. Cassirios was now more focused on the present than the past; alcohol had taken its toll, and the nightmares of his deceased wife rarely bothered him anymore. "If His Holiness summoned me back just to arrest a few cultists, then this matter isn't so simple." He stood on the bridge of the Sky Carrier, his eyes fixed on the woman standing on the command platform surrounded by busy staff. "Now it seems… Madam, your presence only proves His Holiness's foresight."

Agent Hand silently withdrew the hand that Cassirius had kissed; she wasn't amused by his terrible sense of humor. Behind her, a giant bird engulfed in flames perched on the massive eagle-winged throne, and a lazy lion slept on the steps. She felt more like she was in a zoo than in the command center of a war machine.

This thought made her very irritable.

"The monarch has requested the intelligence services and the Sisterhood to assist Kamar-Taj in eradicating those cultists. This is Kamar-Taj's first collaboration with the Immortal City." Agent Hand adjusted her glasses, her aloof demeanor unchanged despite the different mission and sycophantic flattery. Even though Kasirius was handsome, it wasn't enough to sway this professional agent. She glanced suspiciously at the sorcerers seated around the round table; those meditating and reading spells stirred a genuine sense of distrust within her. "While you are all colleagues of the monarch, I don't want anyone to hold us back during this mission."

"Most of those who have come this time are seasoned sorcerers who have experienced war. There may be one or two novices, but this kind of low-risk mission is most suitable for them. Do you know about Salomon's experiences on missions when he was young? It turns out that even the most powerful sorcerers need time to grow, and Salomon is no exception. We need to cultivate new talent; only in this way can Kamar-Taj exist forever." Kasirius looked around. He knew that Salomon had two more war machines like this, and although he didn't know when Salomon had developed such an astonishing power, Kasirius felt genuinely gratified. This sense of pride was exactly the same as when Salomon was admitted to Oxford. He didn't want to consider Salomon's motives; he only knew that Salomon now possessed unparalleled power in the secular world.

"As for Salomon recently... although many old guys dislike his style, he remains the most outstanding arcane mage in the history of Kamar-Taj." Kasirius praised Salomon's achievements in front of everyone, like a father praising his son. If Salomon were here, he would probably be so embarrassed that he would cover his face and run away.

“I can tell you, Kasirios,” Agent Hand sighed, “I cannot and will not ignore the alien threat and devote myself entirely to the mission of hunting down cultists. It’s impossible. I don’t know why the monarch attaches so much importance to this mission, nor do I know why he has left the combat forces to do something else. But the Immortal City’s strength is limited. Right now, we can only ask that you cooperate with us to quickly resolve this issue and free up the resources of the European branch to deal with the problems that have not yet been fully resolved.”

“I assure you, the sorcerers I lead will only provide magical assistance. After all, S.H.I.E.L.D. and Hydra are the professionals when it comes to killing. Just give Kamar-Taj enough statements; we need to know how they got to America. This mission is also Kamar-Taj's mission. If Salomon doesn't work with you, it means he's doing something you shouldn't know.” Kasirius looked at the busy mortals. “Our goal is to protect them, not send them to their deaths. If they know things they shouldn't know, then death is inevitable. This isn't fooling, it's not concealment, it's mercy.”

"I have prepared the brainwashing procedure, the standard procedure required by the monarch," Agent Hand said. "All combat personnel will undergo brainwashing to forget the events of this period."

"Then we can only hope that this method will work." Cassirios shook his head, his eyes full of doubt. Erasing memories is not foolproof; the brain remains a mystery to humans. Neither technological nor magical methods can completely erase the traces of memories. He was somewhat worried about Salomon's mercy. If the brainwashing method failed, it would mean that Salomon would have to be ruthless and carry out a large-scale purge. This would be a major blow to the newly established Immortal City.

Salomon examined his ring.

Compared to the historian he had met before, this folklorist was clearly far less professionally competent. He kept mentioning the various legends the Puritans encountered after landing in New England, completely ignoring the art photographs Salomon presented. The sorcerer had no idea why such a person could be a professor; it seemed Bowdoin College's faculty in this area needed improvement. When the meeting ended, Salomon left a check and, with Wanda, hurried away from Bowdoin College—the folklorist had still touched on some key points that Salomon was interested in, such as the fears born from the combination of Puritan legends and Native American myths, and how superstition had always entrenched itself on this land, providing fertile ground for various cults.

The historian answered Salomon's questions and, on an old map provided by the mystic, marked the majority of documented churches built in Maine after the Puritan settlers landed in New England. Some of these churches survive, while others have long since been destroyed. In Maine, where 45% of the population is Protestant, the historian recounted with great interest the interactions between the Protestants and the Wabanaki tribes.

"Strictly speaking, those who landed in Plymouth were not Calvinist Protestants, but Secessionist Protestants," the history professor concluded after confirming that neither Salomon nor Wanda were Christians. "If you've studied Malthus and basic ecology, you'll understand that Native Americans helping immigrants wasn't a normal phenomenon. Native Americans weren't united; even when facing outsiders, massacres among them were common. It was precisely for this reason that the dwindling population of Wampanoag began to contact the immigrants."

"Pocahontas," Wanda said. "I remember that raccoon!"

"Madam, you have a good memory. It just happened in Virginia, not Maine, and Pocahontas died much earlier. History is often embellished; Pocahontas's story isn't as idyllic as Disney portrays it." The historian smiled. "To the immigrants, these savage, uncivilized heretics weren't even human. The Wampanoag did indeed defeat the Naragansetts by allying with the colonists. That night, the Puritan women brought out wine from their European stash, sausages, and crops from their native lands. The Massasoad tribes also brought plenty of game, and together they celebrated their friendship—that's the origin of Thanksgiving. But fifty years later, King Philip—the second son of the former Wampanoag chief and leader of the resistance against the colonists—died, and his head was displayed on a flagpole for twenty-five years. From then on, the Wampanoag were enslaved."

"What does this have to do with my question?"

"There's a connection." The historian glanced at Salomon. "The owner of the Jerusalem church you're looking for was one of the 120 passengers on the Mayflower."

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(End of this chapter)