Just as Odin, the Allfather, had to solidify his legacy before his death, the Sorcerer Supreme needed to leave Kamar-Taj with an unshakable reputation. Selecting a target to make an example of among their many enemies was crucial. Conveniently enough, Mephisto had brought his schemes directly to their doorstep. The message delivered by Balthazar on behalf of the Ancient One signified that the long-standing, sporadic skirmishes between Kamar-Taj and Hell were now escalating into a full-scale, potentially years-long bloody conflict.
The Holy Lance and the Holy Sword are fundamentally different. Aside from the disparity in their power when lacking a proper scabbard, the Holy Lance, as a conceptual weapon that anchors the Material Plane to the Dirac Sea, is vastly more effective against extradimensional threats compared to the Holy Sword. The Holy Sword is designed to deal with threats in the Material Plane, while the Holy Lance is tailored to confront dangers from other dimensions. By handing the Holy Lance to Solomon, the Sorcerer Supreme was signaling that this conflict would not end without one side conceding defeat.
Mephisto, however, had a more cynical interpretation. He suspected that this was the Sorcerer Supreme's way of grooming Solomon to claim the throne of Satan. While Mephisto himself wouldn't mind seeing Solomon ascend to the Seventh Throne, it had to happen under his own control. Anything outside of his plan was intolerable—especially if it risked him losing his title as the King of Devils.
The old devil's expression darkened. He stood silently for a moment, then turned and walked back toward the Hell Gate, which continued to exude the stench of blood and sulfur. The gate led to the crimson soil of Hell, littered with the corpses of devils. Mephisto paid no attention to the sorcerers behind him as he stepped through. Now was not the time for confrontation. The fact that the Ancient One and Merlin had openly placed their heir in front of him meant that both had prepared thoroughly. Though Mephisto had lost a round in their games of strategy, he wasn't foolish enough to leap into such an obvious trap.
His priority now was to return to his domain as quickly as possible, repair the damage caused by the Sorcerer Supreme's assault, and prepare for future hostilities. He would need to coordinate with the other Hell lords to fend off Kamar-Taj's inevitable aggression.
Once Mephisto vanished, Balthazar relaxed slightly, taking a moment to survey his surroundings. In truth, neither Merlin nor the Ancient One had any backup plans in place to counter Mephisto directly. Even if Solomon were at full strength and capable of wielding the Holy Lance immediately, he would still need time to master it. The weapon was not something one could simply pick up and use.
Kaecilius approached the elder stewards who had emerged from Hell to inquire about the Ancient One's condition. He was deeply concerned—after all, Hell was not an easy place to infiltrate. If the Ancient One had been injured, it would severely weaken Kamar-Taj's overall strength. The elder stewards, however, dismissed his concerns with a scoff. One of them, a veteran from a family with a long history of service to Kamar-Taj, had grown up hearing tales of the Ancient One's fearsome power.
"The Ancient One, injured? Impossible!" the elder steward declared confidently.
"Is this over, then?" Nick Fury poked his head out from behind Solomon, where he'd been hiding since the Hell Gate had opened. It was an instinctive move—he always knew where the safest spot was. But Solomon shook his head. "S.H.I.E.L.D.'s involvement is done. What remains is for us to handle. We need the boy—and his mother," Solomon said firmly. "Fury, don't even think about exploiting the boy's power. It's the blood of the devil. You've already caused one catastrophe; you should know better than to poke at things you don't understand."
As a disciple of the Sorcerer Supreme, Solomon's words carried the weight of Kamar-Taj's authority. The elder stewards, representing the backbone of Kamar-Taj, voiced their agreement. Over time, these families had begun to align themselves more closely with Solomon, drawn by both his innovative magic and the Ancient One's endorsement. Fury could only nod begrudgingly and relay the order through his earpiece, instructing Agent Romanoff to escort Danny and Nadia out of the plane.
"What about the gate? Are your people going to guard it?" Fury asked, seizing the moment before Romanoff arrived. "Here's my suggestion: set up a temporary base here. I'll assign my most trusted operatives—our best agents—to assist Kamar-Taj in securing the gate. Solomon, I'm offering this sincerely."
Solomon responded with nothing more than a cold smile. Who knew how many of Fury's "most trusted agents" were secretly working for Hydra? Allowing S.H.I.E.L.D. near the gate would essentially hand Hydra—and by extension, Hell—a direct line of communication. There was no way Solomon would allow that. Besides, opening the Hell Gate had weakened the dimensional fabric of the area, requiring a combined effort from Kamar-Taj's sorcerers to seal it. Outsiders would only disrupt their work.
"No need," Solomon replied impatiently. "Kamar-Taj can handle this. Your job is to root out the devil's collaborators."
Bayonetta narrowed her eyes and sniffed the air lightly, picking up on a familiar scent. At that moment, Agent Romanoff emerged, leading the boy and his timid, protective mother, Nadia, who clung to him like a shield. The events on the plane had clearly traumatized her—between the devil's minions rebelling and the artificial human's slaughter, her nerves were on the verge of snapping. If anything more happened, she might lose her mind completely. The boy, Danny, though shaken, managed to stay composed, even comforting his mother. His gaze, however, was full of hostility as he glared at everyone around him, including Solomon. It was a habit formed during years of hardship and distrust while living on the run.
"At least let me help with this," Fury interjected. "I can arrange for them to be relocated somewhere completely off the grid, where no one can find them. I can even draft a contract."
"Is that the spy?" Bayonetta asked, her attention suddenly shifting to Natasha Romanoff. "She's quite the beauty."
Her tone was far from pleasant, making Solomon feel deeply awkward. Jeanne, standing nearby, added to his discomfort by subtly pinching his freshly healed hand, sending sharp jolts of pain through his newly reconnected nerves. "We should focus on the matter at hand, Bayonetta," Solomon said, desperate to change the subject.
"This is the matter at hand," Bayonetta shot back. "I want to know who this spy is that you've been secretly meeting."
The other sorcerers, eager for entertainment, watched the scene unfold with poorly concealed amusement. Kamar-Taj's heir being put on the spot like this was a rare treat. Even Kaecilius, who might have intervened under normal circumstances, chose to stay silent. He felt that this was something every young person needed to experience, though he did think it was happening to Solomon a bit later in life than it should have.
"I'm not dating Solomon," Natasha said, her voice laced with sarcasm. "He's far too young for me, and I'm far too old for him."
The tension only escalated as Bayonetta's smile grew more menacing. She shot Solomon a glare that could have burned a hole through him.
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