Marvel Magic Case Files.

Chapter 12 Vishanti Appears

Three missiles, trailing blue energy flames, struck the newly emerged ghosts, knocking them back a few inches. But this attack did not completely disintegrate them; instead, it ignited their fury. They let out screams inaudible to humans, shattering glass and tearing swaying yellow leaves from the treetops.

The amount of magic a person can use in a day is fixed, because everyone's mental strength is limited. Casting spells requires sufficient mental strength to support it, just like consuming physical strength. Once the mental strength is exhausted, it also needs enough rest to recover. Salomon is now very close to this limit.

But mages always have a solution—after realizing that the magic missiles weren't very effective, he immediately grabbed the panting king leaning against the wall and ran. I don't think anyone can blame Salomon for fleeing without a fight; isn't running away when you can't win a fight common practice? But unfortunately, these ghosts didn't want Salomon out of their sight; the White family heirloom was still in Salomon's pocket.

"I...I can run by myself!" Wang gasped, struggling to keep his eyes open as he sprinted forward despite his exhaustion. He had read in books about the fate of those possessed by ghosts, and the ghosts chasing them were clearly powerful evil spirits. He now wanted to know why the Venerable One had sent Salomon to retrieve these ghostly things; they were clearly beyond their capabilities, and he didn't expect to have the same luck as before.

He now misses the soft chairs in the coffee shop, where he could sit comfortably and enjoy delicious snacks, instead of being covered in mud, with weak legs and difficulty breathing like he is now.

The two were now fleeing in panic in the wasteland on the outskirts of the city. Neither of them had ever imagined that they would be in such a miserable state. To say that they were running for their lives was an understatement. Anyone who saw their disheveled appearance covered in dust would think that they were running for their lives.

As Salomon ran, he took a parchment from his waist pocket, tore it open, and silver magical particles adhered to his body before quickly disappearing. He took out another parchment and cast the same spell on the king. After doing this, he immediately slowed his pace, took a few steps forward, turned around, and clasped his hands together.

"Hurry!" Seeing Salomon stop, the young mage also halted, his face filled with anxiety. He just wanted to find a public phone to call Kamar-Taj for help. "What do you want to do?!"

"Fight! Senior Brother Wang, they can't possess us now, we can have a big battle!" Orange-red sparks appeared between Salomon's palms. He separated his hands, and lines formed by several sparks danced and deformed between his palms.

"What? Are you crazy?" Little Wang the monk exclaimed, his eyes wide.

"His Majesty decrees that this operation will be known only to us, and we cannot request assistance," Salomon said.

The three rings can control the magic of Vishanti, a fact he absolutely cannot let the rest of Kamar-Taj know. The rings' power is tantamount to blasphemy against Vishanti. If some of the die-hards in Kamar-Taj were to find out, the Sorcerer Supreme's plan to eradicate Vishanti worship would be thwarted. Once such a private matter is brought into the open, the Supreme Master will be caught in a difficult position.

Salomon fully supports the Sorcerer Supreme's plan. The Grand Master is not a god, and the relationship between the Archmage and the Grand Master is merely a transaction. From beginning to end, it is an atheist relationship. It is still the pride of the mages in Salomon's memories. He cannot tolerate having a "god" riding on his head at all times. If the Venerable had not explained to him that his own magic power could not compare with the endless magic power of the Vishanti, he would have preferred to use his own life force to refine magic power.

He squinted at the specters surging towards them, continuing to wave his fingers. The magical energy beams formed by Vishanti's magic grew increasingly dense in his hands, arcs of magical light sparking with sparks taking shape between Salomon's palms. This was his most powerful magical flame shaping spell to date. Whether due to magical enhancement or sheer numbers, these specters, in Salomon's view, shimmered with a pink light—presumably the power that allowed them to remain in the world—yet their feet were shrouded in a thin black mist.

"Thief... return it..." Seeing Salomon stop, they issued their final ultimatum, "Return... you... leave..."

As they gathered together, the black mist beneath their feet condensed further, and the temperature dropped accordingly. On the streets where a light rain had just fallen, puddles froze into thin white ice.

"F*uck off!" Salomon threw out the magic chain, and the scorching positive energy magic leaped among the ghosts, making a hissing sound like a hot iron. Countless ghosts stopped in their tracks and let out miserable howls.

"Die..." They pounced, only to be met with a massive cleaver materialized from magic. Although Salomon wasn't very skilled in Bajiquan, he knew how to use a knife. He slashed the cleaver, made of sparks, at a ghost, cleaving a crack in its body made of negative energy. But the other ghosts that followed knocked him over several times.

Just as the ghosts were about to pounce, a hand slammed one of them to the ground. After using a secret technique, the young mage was finally able to see the ghost's face clearly. Seeing that Salomon was about to suffer, he could no longer sit still. He cast a protective spell that the Venerable had compiled from other magic books and used a tiger pounce to save Salomon.

"What do we do now?" Little Master Wang asked anxiously after dragging Salomon out, his face contorted in worry. Since the Venerable One didn't want others to know about their actions, then this matter would have to be resolved by themselves.

"I..." Salomon was at a loss for what to do. These ghosts were the most powerful enemies he had encountered so far. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath of the cold air, and when he opened his eyes again, he had made up his mind.

"Hold them off for a bit, and I'll take care of them," Salomon said, reaching into his pocket. When he touched the other two rings, they went from cold to warm.

The young mage nodded solemnly. The ghosts could no longer possess him, and the magic he had learned was enough to hold them off for a while. Salomon took his hand out of his pocket, opening his palm to reveal two other rings with orange and pink gems that emitted an irresistible glow. He took another deep breath and quickly slipped the other two rings onto the middle and ring fingers of his right hand.

In an instant, the warm metal became scalding hot, clinging tightly to his fingers like red-hot metal, and Salomon couldn't help but scream in agony.

"Salomon!" Little Wang the mage hurriedly turned his head. He saw Salomon kneeling on the ground, enveloped in flames formed by magical power. The edges of his robe were charred yellow, and his long black curly hair was also burnt and twisted. The terrifying high temperature expanded the air, blowing Little Wang the mage back a few steps.

The ghosts were in complete chaos. The massive amount of magic easily overwhelmed their forms, and the skeletons formed from their spirit bodies disintegrated in mid-air, turning into the purest form of magic.

"Don't come near me!" Salomon shouted, but his voice was no longer audible. The intense heat had parched his throat and tongue, and the scalding air burned his lungs. With each word, he gagged, vomiting a thick, dark red liquid, but his throat would quickly become parched again, like sandpaper being rubbed. Salomon could only utter incomprehensible, mumbled words. His hands were now blistered, the blood drying instantly, and the sweat dripping from his forehead evaporated in a flash. His lips were tight, cracked, and peeling. Then, the heat intensified, and Salomon howled again. Parts of his skin began to char and carbonize, and the asphalt beneath his feet even melted and softened. Severe dehydration and high temperature plunged Salomon's consciousness into chaos. Little Wang saw that his skin had become extremely yellow, and layer after layer of skin became dry and fragile, and then peeled off, revealing the bright red muscle tissue underneath that could no longer bleed.

Even so, Salomon subconsciously raised his head. Although he could no longer see anything, he knew that in the void, where magic converged, three faces appeared.

A tiger, a man, and a woman.

Hogos, Agamotto, and Oshutu.

"F*uck you, Vishanti." Salomon raised his hand, and he could hear the dry bones and muscles rubbing together, but he couldn't say what he wanted to say because his vocal cords were covered in dried blood, and his tongue was stuck to his jaw with blood. He couldn't utter a single word.

Salomon used his last strength to unfasten the shroud of the dead.

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(End of this chapter)