A week passed quietly. The storm caused by Ultron's downfall had finally settled.
On this day, inside Roland Manor, Wanda and Quicksilver followed the female guard, Sophia, into Roland Phils' villa.
Along the way, the siblings looked around like curious children. Everything here was so different from what they had known before, as if they had stepped into another world.
Most striking of all was the overwhelming aura of life that filled the manor. Bathed in it, they felt as if even their lifespans had been extended.
"No wonder this is where the Lord of Life resides. This place feels like a paradise. If I lived here, I might live decades longer," Quicksilver whispered beside his sister.
"Quiet. Don't talk nonsense. This is the Lord's dwelling. Do not cause trouble," Wanda warned him cautiously.
After witnessing the battle, she deeply understood the Lord's power. Her reverence, gratitude, and worship came from the bottom of her heart.
"Relax, sis. I won't cause any trouble. I should be thanking the Lord anyway. If not for him, I'd be dead," Quicksilver grinned.
"Good. Just remember to be smart when you see him. Leave your careless behavior outside," Wanda reminded again.
"Yes, yes, I heard you the first dozen times," he muttered, rolling his eyes.
"You dare talk back? Sounds like you need another beating," Wanda glared.
Their bickering ended when they entered the grand hall where Roland usually stayed.
Inside, Roland Phils sat quietly with an unknown book in his hand. His presence was calm and steady, like a timeless statue.
"My Lord, Wanda and Quicksilver have arrived," Sophia said respectfully, kneeling.
"Good. You may leave," Roland replied, his eyes still fixed on the book.
"Yes, my Lord." Sophia retreated and left.
Roland finished the last page, then raised his head.
His bright blue eyes gleamed like gems, radiating divine brilliance. Combined with his handsome face, the sight made Wanda feel as if she were gazing upon a prince of the ancient temples.
Her heart raced uncontrollably. Stars seemed to twinkle in her eyes.
Too handsome. Too perfect. This was the very image of her dream prince.
Her face turned red, as if she were staring at her beloved.
As a main god, Roland easily saw through her thoughts. He was both amused and helpless. He hadn't expected the future Scarlet Witch to fall for him at first sight.
It seemed that when Bismarck had saved her brother in Sokovia, Wanda's gratitude had unknowingly blossomed into something else.
So, "saving beauty" worked in any world and any era.
Still, Roland wasn't short of women. His fleet girls already kept him more than busy. If Wanda joined too, the "waiting line" would only grow.
Of course, if Wanda threw herself at him, it wasn't as if he could easily refuse. Her beauty and figure rivaled even his fleet girls.
"Wanda Django Maximoff, the future Scarlet Witch, we finally meet," Roland said as he closed the book. With a flick of his wrist, it vanished.
Neither Wanda nor Quicksilver were surprised. To them, such a display of divine power was natural.
But Wanda was stunned by the name he called her. Scarlet Witch.
She had never heard anyone use that title before, yet somehow it felt perfectly tailored to her. Almost as if it had always belonged to her.
The strange feeling shocked her, yet also made her marvel at the Lord of Life's power. Just meeting him gave her an experience she had never felt before.
Her thoughts spiraled, and her face grew hotter. She couldn't help but picture… things she shouldn't.
Roland sighed inwardly. This woman was daydreaming again.
"Lord of Life, I am here to pay my respects. But I don't understand. What do you mean by Scarlet Witch?" Wanda asked, trying to push her wild thoughts aside.
Before Roland could answer, Quicksilver suddenly said, "Sis, don't you get it? The Lord already had this planned for you."
Wanda froze, then glared at him. "How dare you! Kneel and apologize at once!"
Startled, Quicksilver dropped to his knees, trembling as if expecting punishment.
Roland chuckled. "Stand. This matter doesn't concern you. Go back and wait."
With a wave, Quicksilver vanished instantly. Wanda panicked until Roland gently lifted her chin.
"Do not worry. I only sent him home. Now we can have a deeper conversation," he said softly.
Wanda's heart pounded. Instead of resisting, she felt shy, sweet, even excited, like a girl teased by her beloved.
"Do you remember the vow you made in your prayer?" Roland asked with a faint smile.
He let go of her chin and sat upon his throne, radiating holy majesty. The pressure of his aura made Wanda sink to her knees.
"My Lord, I will never forget. If you are willing, I offer you everything I have," she said reverently.
"Good. That is why I allowed Bismarck to save you and your brother," Roland said, satisfied.
"My Lord, I am willing to be your loyal servant, your sharpest blade," Wanda declared firmly.
Ever since seeing Bismarck's power, she had longed to be chosen as a divine emissary. Now, standing before the Lord of Life himself, she would not waste this chance.
"You wish to pledge yourself to me?" Roland asked with interest.
He already knew Wanda's potential. Recruiting her had been part of his plan. Still, her eagerness was beyond his expectations.
"Yes, I wish to serve you and become part of the Holy Light Order," Wanda answered devoutly.
"You have limitless potential. But you are still too weak. Alone, it would take you a long and difficult path to reach the level I require. So, I will assign you a mentor," Roland said.
"A mentor? Is it you, my Lord? Please, let me follow you. I would do anything for you!" Wanda said, flushed with excitement.
Roland shook his head, half amused, half troubled. This woman was already infatuated with him.
"Not so fast. You must grow stronger first," he said, dismissing her hope.
He clapped his hands. A ripple of space appeared. From the mist emerged the figure of an old man.
It was none other than Mephisto, now Roland's Hell steward.
"Greetings, my Lord. What task do you have for me?" Mephisto asked, kneeling.
Since submitting, he had been managing the Hell Dimension. In just one year, under Roland's rule, Hell had expanded and transformed into a disciplined, orderly realm. Even Mephisto had to admit, Roland's mastery far surpassed his own.
"Rise," Roland said, nodding with satisfaction.
"Thank you, my Lord," Mephisto replied, then glanced curiously at Wanda.
"I called you here because of Wanda. You must have sensed the power she carries," Roland said.
"Yes. From the moment I saw her, I knew. She holds a power even I must respect," Mephisto admitted.
"You know where that power comes from, don't you?" Roland asked with a meaningful look.
Mephisto hesitated, then bowed his head. "As expected, nothing escapes your sight. Yes, I know its origin."
"What? You know where my power comes from?" Wanda asked, shocked.
"Yes," Mephisto said with a nod.
"Then tell me, what is it?" she pressed.
"It comes from Chthon, the ancient god of dark magic," Mephisto said, raising his hand.
A book appeared before them, ancient and ominous, its cover etched with strange runes.
Roland's eyes lit up with interest. "The Darkhold. So it really was in your hands."
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