Marvel Magic Case Files

Chapter 986 Prelude to War (Second Update)

The blood-soaked corpse thudded on the ground like a tattered sack full of dough.

The tent remained largely silent. Officers, their eyes red and breathing heavily, held bayonets dripping with blood; many of them had been loudly echoing inflammatory rhetoric just moments before. Marek Koletsky wasn't the first to have his throat slit—many officers had previously acted short-sightedly, constantly obstructing the Immortal City's education of the partisans. Even knowing it was unlikely, Viktor von Dum still hoped Marek Koletsky would be the last officer to die at the hands of his own men. Such a purge was clumsy and easily demoralized the partisans; he preferred such men to die on the battlefield, to inspire the fighting spirit of others.

"Send a commando team to surround their camp. Don't let anyone escape. The rest of you, keep an eye on your units. I don't want any mishaps," Viktor von Dum told one of the officers. "I'll go and persuade them myself. Try not to fire until then. We've already shed enough blood today."

"Yes, sir!" The man in the gray standard military uniform hurriedly saluted and then strode out. The others also left the command post at Viktor von Dum's signal. The officers involved in the murder washed their hands and the slick blood from their bayonets in a basin of water, their faces pale, and then left the tent filled with the smell of blood with their heads down.

This incident would be buried deep in their hearts forever. They would form a small group because of the murder, just as they whispered among themselves when they left together. These officers were handpicked by Viktor von Doom, who had conspired with them under the light before Marek Koletsky's speech, passing messages in the shadows. Viktor had them persuade Marek Koletsky not to give the speech, but they had failed. They thought they had been given important responsibilities, but the reality was quite the opposite—they would die in the next battle, torn to pieces by a bullet that pierced their brains or chests, or by a mortar shell falling from the sky. Then, officers promoted on the front lines and given command would take their place—these were the officers Viktor von Doom valued; they were young, passionate, and idealistic, and had absorbed most of the Immortal City's ideology.

They will form a front fighting alongside the Immortal City and will not hinder the Immortal City's education of ordinary soldiers. After this, the Immortal City's work in establishing the Latverian Bank will face no further obstacles. More importantly, they accept the notion that "magic is actually a kind of mental power that can be explained scientifically," rather than viewing its supernatural abilities with superstitious eyes. Methods such as summoning lightning to attack enemies and warping enemy cover all have tactical significance, and they are very willing to accept psionicists trained by the Immortal City into their combat ranks.

Viktor von Doom didn't reveal his plans to the young men. He considered himself inept at intrigue, so he intended to keep everything a secret. Even the preacher of the Immortal City had left, sitting silently in his seat for several minutes before finally waving his hand and releasing a tiny spark. The orange-red spark landed on Marek Koletsky's corpse, instantly causing the flesh to shrink as if all moisture had been evaporated.

The next second, scorch marks spread across the dried-out corpse, turning the clothes to ashes along with the charred remains—a full minute later, only a pool of human-shaped ash remained at Viktor von Doom's feet, along with a few charred metal buttons, and the tent reeked of burnt protein. He silently stood up, lifted the curtain, and the cold, gray smell of rain rushed in, invigorating him. The distant thunder and the neighing of horses, accompanied by the biting mountain wind, swept in, dispelling all the lingering stench of sin.

He doesn't want any more bloodshed today, he really doesn't.

"It seems my chosen helper is truly excellent." Salomon glanced down at a few pages of a report beside the plate of bacon. "He has accomplished the task of unifying the Latvian front, and one that isn't so hostile towards the Immortal City. I'm quite satisfied. We can speed up the transport to Stephanie now, and I'm looking forward to Latvian establishing a satellite reconnaissance center. Oh, Diana, could you fetch me today's report? The one about satellite reconnaissance of NATO military bases. I don't believe there aren't spies among the guerrillas, nor do I believe they'll wait until after a declaration of war to begin mobilizing troops…"

His focus wasn't on how many lives Viktor von Doom had lost to complete the mission; he was concerned with the strength of the front line. Now, all the Latvian nobles (the bourgeoisie) sensed the impending storm, and more and more villagers were flocking to the mountains with their families to join the guerrillas. The first batch of weapons and ammunition shipped from the Immortal City to the mountains would soon be insufficient, and many would have to fight with live ammunition (rifles, submachine guns, and heavy machine guns).

However, the Immortal City's warehouse still contains many newly manufactured weapons wrapped in oil paper.

"It's breakfast time, darling." Bayonetta tapped the gold-rimmed plate with her fork. Generally, this family's breakfasts consisted of low-calorie options; it was unlikely they'd choose a large meal like smoked beef brisket for breakfast. However, for the witch and Salomon, who had missed dinner the previous night, this protein intake was just right.

"I promise, it will be over soon." The pen seemed to come alive at Salomon's command. It uncapped itself and plunged its tip into the blank space on the printing paper, writing the title of the arcane mage. This signature signified that tens of tons of servers, nuclear power generators, and numerous technicians would be transported to Latvinia, and that geostationary and spy satellites would be mobilized to meet the initial information needs of the Latvinian army.

Soon, the Latvian War will truly begin. Troops currently undergoing combat training in Eastern Europe, the Middle East, and Africa will be deployed to Latvian battlefields. The armored forces of the Immortal City will also advance in batches to the plains of Latvian, where Victor von Dum's men will meet them. At that time, the banner of the Golden Eagle will fly between snow-capped mountains and dark forests, and treads and iron hooves will trample castles and trenches. Salomon will lead the Sisters of the Legion, the Imperial Guard of Constantine, and a regular Latvian army into this war, guarding the northern frontier against NATO forces entering Latvian. If necessary, he will leverage the Immortal City's formidable air superiority to infiltrate major European military bases and wipe out NATO troops who spend their weekends on vacation, indulging in drugs and pleasure-seeking.

"Is it finished?"

"Of course, now it all depends on how well Constantine completes his mission." Salomon nodded, picked up his juice, and took a sip. "I hope he moves quickly; the battlefield in Latveria needs his participation, and it would be a great pity if he missed out."

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(End of this chapter)