Marvel Magic Case Files

Chapter 685 An After-Dinner Stroll (Second Update)

Salomon didn't tell Wanda much about the dark secrets of Kamar-Taj.

No matter how grand the mission Kamar-Taj may be, or how many titles it holds, at its core it is a ruthless killing organization. Every arcane mage's mission is to kill humanity's enemies at all costs. This was somewhat difficult for Wanda to accept, so Salomon had no intention of telling her about the dungeons of Kamar-Taj. Now, the Immortal City has taken Kamar-Taj's pragmatic philosophy to its extreme, and shows signs of going even further.

He recounted to Wanda his first mission: to eliminate the young, near-ancestor-level First Blood vampires in the town of Corinth, to eradicate the werewolves hiding in the town, and to purge the degenerate ghouls roaming the town's forests and hunting homeless people. Wanda listened intently. She didn't understand why the Sorcerer Supreme had Salomon begin a mission at such a young age, nor did she know what fate awaited the ordinary people of Corinth without the sorcerers of Kamar-Taj.

"This is the easiest task I've ever encountered." Wanda and Salomon sat facing each other by the window, each holding a cup of hot tea. A fragrant, delicate smoke rose from the copper fireplace in the center of the room. As the slow-paced story ended, the orange-red afterglow lingered on the snow-capped mountains, the area below shrouded in darkness. The magnificent scenery and the slightly chilly wind kept Wanda unaffected by the dark story; even when she heard tales of witches and vampires, she felt little emotional reaction. However, she noticed one word.

"You ended up retrieving that magic book, didn't you?"

“No, I found nothing,” Salomon said meaningfully. He had his invisible servant pour hot water into a teacup, then took a sip despite the scalding temperature. “I took all the old books to examine, and the results all proved that what I wanted wasn’t in Corinth,” he said. “But all the evidence points to the book having been in Corinth, because the spell to curse someone into a vampire is only found in that book. I’ve considered many possibilities. The first is that it was a scroll mixed in with ordinary books, and that the book itself left Corinth long ago. The second is that someone was behind the witch, and the book was taken away after the witch failed. But I believe that, whichever the possibility, one day that thing will appear before me.”

Why are you telling this story? Could it be...?

“Yes,” Salomon said, quite pleased with his apprentice’s intelligence. “I suspect the events in Jerusalem are connected to those in Collins, after all, the two towns aren’t that far apart, and even Salem isn’t that far. New England, more precisely Maine and Massachusetts, was the original settlement of England, and many wizards from Britain and even Europe came there. Coincidentally, the book’s binder was Morgan le Fay of Britain, and his followers are still active in the universe today. So I think the two events are actually related, even inextricably linked to Morgan le Fay—although I haven’t found any trace of the witch’s spells, the stench of black magic can be smelled no matter how much time has passed. Now that I think about it, I have indeed missed many clues.”

"You said we were going to carry out a mission?"

"It was less of a mission and more of a picnic," Salomon said. "The vampire described to me how witches cast spells on themselves in pursuit of immortality, turning themselves into ceramics and glass. If that's the case, the witches' bodies shouldn't have decomposed, and I've been forgetting to look for them."

"Do you believe the witch's body holds any clues?"

"Not necessarily." The sorcerer shook his head. "It could also be a waste of time. I plan to compare the black magic emanating from the witch's corpse, the black magic in Jerusalem, and the black magic that appeared in Salem, using this method to find clues. This won't be too difficult a task, because I've already located the witch's corpse through prophecy."

"Then what are we waiting for? Let's go now!" Wanda's eyes lit up; she really didn't want to stand in the training ground all day.

Salomon smiled. He had seen through Wanda's little scheme long ago, but he didn't care. "Go change your clothes, apprentice," he said. "I'll take you out for a meal first, then we'll treat this mission as an evening stroll. I've already prepared a form-fitting dress and high heels for you."

"Is this for me?"

"Of course, these are yours." Salomon nodded, handing Wanda the clothes and shoes that appeared out of thin air. "However, regardless of whether the witch's body fragments are found or not, you must attend training tomorrow morning."

"Did he say what the mission would be?" Agent Hill pressed on relentlessly. She seemed anxious because Steve Rogers and Tony Stark were incapable of carrying out the mission under these circumstances, and she needed to pay compensation and funeral expenses for the fallen agents, ensuring the funds reached those the agents truly cared about. She didn't want to be sued by the Avengers for withholding agent salaries and compensation; that would be far too shameful.

"You're too nervous, Maria!" Natasha Romanov didn't remove her headphones. Her long red hair was neatly braided at the back of her head to avoid affecting her movements. She aimed at the target and fired another shot, familiarizing herself with the gun's unique feel—this silver-white Beretta 92F was a gift from Salomon, imbued with some magic. To test whether the magic would affect the shooting feel, Agent Romanov had already fired nearly 100 rounds with this gun. The morning's shooting training ended quickly, and next she wanted to try out the assassination weapon Salomon had given her—she had no idea that after having a real relationship with Salomon, this man she had watched grow up would be so generous.

"At best, it's just an after-dinner walk."

"For him, it's just an after-dinner stroll; for ordinary people, it's annihilation." Agent Hill's assessment of the sorcerers was precise and merciless. She compared Salomon to a buzzing lawnmower, intending to mow all the lawns in the procession. "Like mowing a lawn, the smell always lingers for days afterward." Agent Hill rolled her eyes. "They only care whether ordinary people see magic, not what kind of damage they cause to buildings and people."

"Sounds like a secret agent."

“Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D., not agents of the Avengers,” Maria Hill said. “We don’t do that anymore, don’t you remember?”

Natasha took a deep breath of the gunpowder-scented air. She disliked the smell, but it lingered, even seeping into her hands. She couldn't help but recall the little candles Salomon had given her not long ago; they came in many colors and shapes, and when burned, they emitted a faint, pleasant smoke that lifted her spirits.

She recalled what happened after the candles were lit.

"You missed the target, Romanov."

"I'll call him and ask!" she said without turning around, "but you're not allowed to use anything I said to contradict me again!"

"As you wish." Agent Hill raised an eyebrow and turned to leave.

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(End of this chapter)