"Blind old fool," Li Feng sneered, watching the priest fumble with the Key of Solomon. "Maybe that book's a fake. Why don't you let me take a look?"
The priest flinched. He'd already misjudged once calling a true demon a mere witch. But to hand the grimoire to Li Feng? Dangerous. The boy's cards burned with sorcery. If his aim matched the demon's, what difference would it make?
Li Feng didn't press. Mordo still held his own against Hegmar. The body the demon had claimed was vicious, but not decisive. Li Feng flicked another card, fire bursting across the fiend's chest, buying Mordo room to breathe. Then he called over to Behmen.
"Remember the fun we had slaying that fragment? How about helping Mordo before this thing drags us into overtime?"
Behmen hesitated. Li Feng might be mage, heretic, or worse—but human. And humans, no matter how flawed, were preferable to Hellspawn. With grim resolve, he signaled Felson to guard the priest and threw himself into the fray.
Mordo's relief was plain. "Priest! How long until that ritual's ready?"
The priest clenched his jaw. Then, surprising even himself, he shoved the grimoire into Li Feng's hands. Better to risk an untrustworthy ally than lose everything to the demon.
Li Feng ran a finger along the cover, brow furrowed. Then he laughed bitterly. "Well, that explains it. No wonder your chants went nowhere." He pressed the tome back and sparked a tinder-sized portal flame, a tiny beacon of space-energy. "Here. Line's open. Now call Him."
The priest's voice steadied as he began again. "Weaken him? Not destroy?"
"Against a fragment, maybe. Against his true body? You'll be lucky to blunt his claws," Li Feng muttered.
Realization dawned on Hegmar's twisted face. He roared, taking a punishing blow from Behmen and Mordo just to lunge for the priest. If the spell cut his tether now, he was finished.
Felson braced, sword quaking in his hands. Hegmar ignored him. A mortal knight was no threat. Li Feng? Just a novice with parlor tricks.
Then Li Feng grinned, feral. "Still think you'll take my body? Watch this."
He snapped his hand, and a ripple of warped time splashed across the demon's face. Hegmar froze mid-lunge, movements dragging like sludge.
The strain ripped through Li Feng. He dropped to one knee, every muscle trembling. "Mordo! Priest! Finish it—I can't hold him long!"
The priest's voice raced through holy words, sweat pouring down his brow. Mordo's staff blazed as he drove it into the fiend's chest.
The demon's body resisted, but his eyes gleamed with hunger. "Time sorcery… space before that… such a vessel…"
Mordo hammered strikes, ribs cracking, blood spraying. But the demon was resilient, snarling through the pain. With a guttural cry, he shattered the bind, chest heaving.
The priest gasped the final word. "Amen."
Power surged through the mirror dimension. Mordo clenched his fists and severed the fiend's tether to Hell. Hegmar faltered, strength bleeding away. His rage spiked. If he was dying, he'd drag the priest down with him.
He pounced. Claws ripped through cloth and flesh. The priest's scream ended in a wet choke.
But his death bought the opening. Behmen and Mordo struck in unison—sword and staff carving together. The demon's head tumbled free, body collapsing into flame and ash.
Li Feng exhaled, chest heaving. "Finally. Over."
Mordo glanced at the corpse, lips curling faintly. "Over? Are you sure?"
The words chilled the air. Li Feng and Behmen turned, too late.
Mordo's spell flared. The priest's corpse sank into the mirror space, vanishing like a stone in water.
Just before it disappeared, Li Feng snatched the grimoire free with a quick incantation. A shriek echoed faintly distant, desperate. Then silence. The mirror folded closed, the demon's echo crushed between dimensions.
Mordo sheathed his staff. "Now it's over." He drew a glowing doorway and gestured them out.
Li Feng lingered. He crouched, scooping a handful of demon ash, slipping it into his pouch. Spell material—waste nothing. Then he tucked the grimoire under his arm and stepped through.
Back in the real courtyard, Behmen stood dazed, sword still raised. At last, wordlessly, he offered the weapon to Li Feng. The boy slid it into his belt with a half-smile.
Not the end, he thought. Just the start. The Key of Solomon was his now.
"Not rushing home yet, are you?" he asked Mordo lightly, twirling the blade.
Mordo rolled his eyes. "A month. Rest first. Then we leave."
Li Feng grinned. "Perfect. Behmen—teach me your swordplay. I'll answer your questions in return."
Behmen and Felson stayed silent. Kai, eyes wide, blurted, "What are you? Sorcerers?"
Li Feng studied the boy. Too loyal to the Church. Too likely to carry tales. Safer to cloak himself in half-truths.
"We belong to a hidden order," he said at last. "Our calling is to hunt and destroy creatures like that—malice from beyond this world."
He nodded toward the shattered cart. "That demon was only one of them. And we won't stop here."
Mordo stood at Li Feng's side, arms folded, silently rolling his eyes. A speech about the sacred duty of Kamar-Taj sorcerers? From someone who wasn't even from their world? Shameless. Still, he held his tongue. Explaining Li Feng's origins would take hours, and—annoyingly—perhaps the boy's theatrics did serve a purpose.
Kai certainly thought so. The boy hung on every word, now convinced that beyond demons lurked stranger beings—elves, spirits, legends hidden in shadow.
With the fiend vanquished, Behmen finally knighted Kai. The boy gave one last look back at Li Feng and Mordo before spurring his horse into the distance.
Watching him go, Li Feng rubbed his temples. "Think the kid's going to hand our names to the Church?"
Mordo shrugged. "And if he does? What then? Even if the Church learns, we'll be gone—back to our own world. Unless they plan to storm the Marvel universe and drag us back." His smile was dry. "I'd pay to watch the Ancient One flatten them."
Li Feng frowned. "We'll be gone, but Behmen and Felson won't. I don't want them hounded because of us."
So he handed Behmen a lie to carry. "Sorcerers live atop the highest peak in the world—Mount Everest. The exact location…" He flicked Mordo a look as the man barely contained laughter. "…is something we can't reveal."
Behmen nodded, recognizing the intent. If pressed, he could only give them myth. Better that than a death sentence. And truth be told, his trust in the Church had already cracked. They had risked their lives to escort a demon while the Church called for blood crusades, feeding Hell with every innocent slaughter. Meanwhile, so-called heretics had bled to stop the invasion. Hypocrisy burned deeper than any wound.
A month later, Li Feng's body was nothing but bruises. He bowed stiffly to Behmen. "I think I've learned enough swordsmanship. Time to leave. Before you break me completely."
Behmen had been merciless. Wooden blades at dawn, ambush sparring with Felson at dusk, every strike driven until muscle memory etched itself into bone. Mordo patched Li Feng back together each night, ensuring the punishment never eased.
By the end, Li Feng cursed them both under his breath. Enough was enough.
When the day came, he opened a swirling blue-white portal. Before Behmen and Felson could even finish making the sign of the cross, Li Feng dragged Mordo through, vanishing in a flash.
Back in his Marvel-world room, Li Feng's first glance was at the glowing numbers of his bedside clock. He had felt the portal currents closely this time, mapping every shift, hunting the reason why time never flowed evenly between worlds.
Mordo, pale and retching from the trip, wiped his mouth and studied him. "You're not just measuring how much power you burn. You're trying to gauge its quality. Do one more thing—open the return portal from the same spot you entered. Could stabilize the flow."
Li Feng grimaced. "I barely managed quantity. Quality's years away."
"Try it anyway," Mordo said. Then his tone hardened. "In fact… try it soon."
Li Feng stiffened. "You want to go back already?"
Mordo nodded. He knew the truth: Li Feng's affinity for the Dark wouldn't stay hidden forever. Better to keep him traveling, away from Kamar-Taj's scrutiny. "I'll report our journey to the Ancient One. After that, we leave again."
Li Feng muttered, "Great. I'm the elevator boy now. Mordo pushes the buttons; I just ride along."
Mordo stopped before the Ancient One's chamber, hand hovering at the door. She knew of Li Feng's shadowed power. Why hadn't she intervened? What lesson was he missing?
The door opened before he knocked. The Ancient One sat at a low tea table, steam curling from porcelain cups.
"Just in time," she said warmly. "I've only just boiled the water. Sit, join me."
Mordo hesitated. Boiling water ruined green tea. Balance mattered. The right temperature mattered. He sat anyway, watching every movement as she poured.
"Master," he began carefully, "we encountered a demon. And… Li Feng learned from it."
She listened, face serene. Only the faint crease in her brow betrayed thought. When he finished, she set down her cup.
"Seventy to eighty degrees," she said softly. "Perfect for green teas. Too hot, and bitterness dominates. Ninety for lighter fermented leaves. Hotter still for the darkest oolongs."
Mordo blinked, staring into the steam. Slowly, the meaning settled. "Extremes ruin everything. Even boiling water destroys what it touches."
The Ancient One tipped her cup, spilling the tea aside with a smile. "I'm saying this particular tea tastes terrible."
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