"Sir."
Tita extended her arm, blocking the path of the drunken Dave and the old man beside him. In the pitch-black alleyway, the only source of light was the crimson glow from the electronic eye on her helmet.
Dave, thoroughly intoxicated by whatever the old man had poured down his throat, couldn't even remember the incantation to ward off drunkenness. Tita's night vision function picked up the lipstick mark on his face. She pursed her lips slightly but quickly refocused her gaze on the old man. Solomon's target was him, not the booze-soaked Dave.
"Miss," the old man greeted with a velvet-soft voice, exuding warmth. If Dave were still lucid, he would have noticed that the man now looked significantly younger than he had just a few hours ago. "Let me take this poor child home. He's embarrassed himself enough for one night—at least let him change into clean clothes."
"The Monarch has invited you, sir."
Tita was not so easily fooled by Merlin's smooth talk.
"According to Kamar-Taj—"
"I wrote that rule myself!" Merlin interjected with exasperation.
Regret was plain on his face. The rule in question had been specifically designed to track powerful magic users—particularly him. The moment Merlin set foot on Earth, the Sorcerer Supreme would sense it and come knocking, usually with a barrage of spells.
Now, however, it seemed the responsibility had been passed down to the Supreme Sorcerer's heir.
"I'll go," Merlin suddenly smiled.
For a brief moment, it felt as if the dark alley had blossomed with flowers.
"But please, allow me to settle this poor child first."
"I'll take him with us."
Tita remained unmoved. The instant she spoke, the alley was bathed in an eerie blue glow.
Above them, a dropship hovered silently before descending to the far end of the alley. Its hatch hissed open, and a squad of fully armored artificial beings emerged, armed with chainswords and boltguns, advancing methodically toward them.
Merlin maintained his pleasant smile as the artificial beings took custody of Dave. He even allowed them to place restrictions on him—though he viewed these measures as somewhat excessive. Steel cuffs to immobilize his hands, a mask to prevent spellcasting… How cautious of them.
"Please come with us, sir," Tita said flatly. Though Merlin couldn't see her face, her voice remained emotionless.
"I apologize for the restraints, but we will do anything to ensure the Monarch's safety."
Merlin fiddled with the mask and cuffs in silence, nodding as he examined the artificial beings.
Deep down, he marveled at Solomon's creations.
This is without a doubt the work of the Philosopher's Stone…
For a long time, he had wanted to borrow some from Solomon to experiment with. As a half-nightmare entity, he could create a Philosopher's Stone himself—but the price would be too steep.
He had once conversed with the lingering soul of Paracelsus within a dagger, and now, he wanted to see firsthand what Solomon had accomplished using the power of the Philosopher's Stone.
After all, in terms of lineage, Solomon was technically his student.
—
"Master, we have captured the target."
Upon receiving the report, Solomon quickly bid farewell to the Maximoff twins and returned to his office in the Eternal City.
He donned his relic-infused robes and equipped his enchanted headband—set with red, green, and blue crystals, allowing him to convert spells into offensive blasts or defensive shields.
However, when he arrived at the landing pad, he found the dropship empty.
Merlin was nowhere to be seen.
Only Dave lay snoring on the floor.
Yet, the artificial beings insisted that Merlin had never left the dropship.
When the illusion spell was finally dispelled, Tita's expression shifted from shock to guilt.
Solomon patted her shoulder.
"It's fine," he reassured her. "There aren't many people in this universe who can contain Merlin. You did well."
Once he ensured Tita and the others were emotionally stable, Solomon returned to his office.
He had expected to find Merlin waiting for him there.
Instead, what greeted him was a monster.
Acting on instinct, Solomon immediately cast a spell.
"A demon!"
"That's not a demon—it's a spawn of Chthon," Merlin corrected, unfazed by Solomon's rage.
To him, his little prank was nothing more than a trivial amusement.
The lamplight and floodlights of nearby maintenance vehicles illuminated his half-nightmare face.
In the aftermath of Solomon's attack, the office lay in ruins—the walls had been blown apart, shattering an ornate stained-glass window and reducing an invaluable porcelain artifact to rubble.
"Its power is unique," Merlin continued, completely ignoring the destruction.
"Chthon's chaotic magic isn't simply a battle between positive and negative energy. The real conflict is between Order and Chaos."
"Even Atum himself couldn't resist the corruption of Chaos," he said solemnly. "If we don't stop the Great Dark Shadow, the universe will fall into heat death."
But Solomon wasn't in the mood for lectures.
Arcane energy crackled around him, and the gems on his headband pulsed with light—except for the blue one, which had already been expended.
His previous attack had summoned a bolt of high-voltage lightning, scorching the air and frying a nearby laptop.
A decorative longsword—once proudly displayed—now lay broken in two.
Fortunately, the books in his collection were protected by magic, escaping the destruction unscathed.
At last, he understood why the Ancient One hated dealing with Merlin.
This infuriating old man had an uncanny talent for causing trouble when least expected. And worst of all…
You couldn't even stay mad at him properly.
Solomon exhaled, shaking his head.
"I need to get this guy to Kamar-Taj immediately."
"The Ancient One is waiting for him."
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