Marvel Magic Case Files

Chapter 901 Curse and Prophecy (First Update)

"Identification documents".

"You think you don't know my age, you old codger!" Salomon glared at the bartender and snapped his fingers at the tray holding four drinks. "If I'm not mistaken, this came from a friend of someone who's not exactly a friend." Before returning to his seat, Salomon gestured with his chin towards the shotgun hanging on the wall behind the bar. The shotgun was covered in Gothic twisted patterns and skull decorations, its grip chained, and the entire gun radiated a terrifying heat as if it had just been pulled from a furnace. The arcane mage casually asked, "Do you know him?"

"Ghost Rider sent this over through someone," the bartender said without looking up. "I hear he's doing pretty well these days."

"I don't think so," Salomon shook his head.

As far as he knew, Johnny Blaze, the Ghost Rider, had taken on several jobs as a stunt motorcyclist, but none of them were stable, and his frequent unemployment meant he was entirely supported by his journalist girlfriend. Although Kamar-Taj provided him with a stipend, Johnny Blaze's pride always led him to refuse assistance from Kamar-Taj and his girlfriend, instead seeking extra income in secluded places—it was said that not long ago he had been pulled over by the police for speeding and driving without a license, and was eventually bailed out by a local Kamar-Taj sorcerer. The sorcerer shook his head, dismissing irrelevant thoughts, and turned to beckon his invisible servant to carry a tray to his seat, where Wanda and the Drum brothers were already waiting.

"Beer, beer, tequila, martini." Salomon sat down next to Wanda, facing the Drum brothers. The two brothers had agreed to fly from South America to New York to meet Salomon not because of Kamar-Taj's influence or the connection to the sorcerer Daniel, but because they believed Kamar-Taj might possess something they needed. They wanted to make a deal—perhaps a book, perhaps a magical artifact—the Drum brothers had no idea what it was, but they insisted Kamar-Taj possessed it. Watching Salomon casually create ethereal spirits to serve them only solidified their belief.

“This is related to a prophecy.” The older Dram was named Daniel Dram, the same name as the sorcerer Daniel of Kamar-Taj. “Or rather, a curse. It’s somewhat well-known in the magical world, and a bit of a cliché.” He gave a dry laugh, while only Wanda listened with interest. However, to her disappointment, the story was short and rather dull. “A witch who was hostile to the Dram family once prophesied that only one person from each generation of the Dram family could survive, and for two hundred years this curse has been passed down in the blood of the Dram family.”

"You want to lift the curse?" Salomon nodded. "Yes, but success is not guaranteed."

He wasn't some brain-dead protagonist from a wish-fulfillment novel, demanding unconditional obedience to orders he didn't understand. He wasn't concerned with listening to others' perspectives or accepting their conditions. Even if he didn't accept, he could still afford to buy them a drink. The Drum brothers clearly hadn't expected Salomon to be so agreeable—according to their distant relatives, Salomon was the successor to the Sorcerer Supreme, a status far superior to theirs as spellcasters from other schools of thought.

In the hierarchical world of magic, knowledge is power. Kamar-Taj and the Sorcerer Supreme hold an unshakeable and supreme position because they possess the most powerful knowledge. The old man Daniel initially entered Kamar-Taj to study in search of a way to lift the curse. However, after so many years, Daniel has gained nothing. Therefore, he believes that Salomon might know some knowledge that only the Sorcerer Supreme can possess, and that this knowledge could lift the curse that has plagued the Dram family for centuries.

"I need to conduct experimental analysis," Salomon said, gesturing for the Drum brothers to extend their arms. He then produced two blood collection vials and needles. The Drum brothers nervously complied. Giving blood, hair, and nails in the magical world required absolute trust, but the Drum family was desperate. To lift the curse, they had to cooperate with Salomon's actions, and now the brothers could only pray to their ancestors that Salomon and Kamar-Taj were trustworthy.

After the brief meeting, Salomon booked a hotel room for the Drum brothers and asked them to wait for news there.

"Can you really lift their curse?" Wanda Maximov asked in a low voice. "I don't think they're telling the truth. What witch would be so bored as to cast a curse on someone? This sounds like something out of a fairy tale. Have you heard of the story of Baba Yaga? I don't think lifting the curse rashly will end badly."

In legends, if a husband beats his wife without cause, he will be cursed by Baba Yaga. The person who casts the spell to break the curse must pay with their life, and their soul will become Baba Yaga's slave. Legends about curses have always been a mixture of truth and falsehood, but one thing is certain: a curse passed down through bloodlines is incredibly powerful, and the more powerful the curse, the higher the price to pay to break it.

According to Salomon's understanding, whenever one of the twins in the Drum family dies a violent death, the deceased's soul power is transferred to the living, making them even stronger. He even once suspected that this curse was cast by the ancestors of the Drum family themselves, so that this originally unremarkable family could accumulate power through bloodline inheritance and become stronger. This kind of thing had happened before. In many schools of thought that rely on family lineage, kinship is a non-existent concept; ultimate mysteries are far more important than bloodline inheritance. Salomon could easily cite several cases of exploring ultimate truths by possessing others. If the ancestors of the Drum family intended to use their descendants as sacrifices, he wouldn't be surprised at all.

“Of course I know, Wanda, but I didn’t promise to lift the curse.” Salomon put the blood-collecting vial into his pouch, then popped a lemon and salt into his mouth, downed his tequila in one gulp. “If the cost of resolving this matter far exceeds the cost of defeating Quetzalcoatl, I won’t be so kind as to lend a hand,” he said. “Finding clues about Quetzalcoatl isn’t something only they can do; I’m not stupid enough to do something that doesn’t benefit me.”

After Salomon returned to the temple, the old sorcerer Daniel rushed over to inquire about the details. However, the Lady of Calamity, wearing an outrageously stupid mask with bulging eyes, prevented him from going any further. This madwoman possessed considerable autonomy as long as she didn't touch the books and artifacts in the temple, for no other reason than that her prophetic status always brought unexpected surprises to Kamar-Taj.

“You won’t succeed, old man. Your brother is still wailing over you!” She turned abruptly, startling Wanda Maximoff. The Lady of Calamity pointed to her crudely made mask, its bulging orange-red eyes taking on a sinister tone. She said in a muffled voice, “I saw you plunge a sacrificial knife into a woman’s chest and pull out her heart. That’s the only way to kill the serpent, Salomon. You must make a decision.”

She reached her hand toward Salomon's forehead, and immediately the sorcerer saw the vision that the Lady of Calamity had seen.

Please vote for me!

(End of this chapter)