Sorcerer in the Marvel Universe

Just because warlocks and demon hunters both wielded fel magic didn’t mean they got along.

Quite the opposite.

If anything, no one hated someone in the same line of work more than another professional.

Warlocks serving the Burning Legion and demon hunters were mortal enemies by default. The moment they met, the only debate was who would die first.

Even on Azeroth, where both fought against the Legion, relations between the Illidari and the Council of the Black Harvest had never been friendly.

The resentment ran deep.

Part of it dated all the way back to Illidan himself.

The founder of the Illidari had spent years carrying the Skull of Gul’dan around like a treasured keepsake.

To warlocks, that bordered on sacrilege.

Not because they held any sentimental attachment to Gul’dan. Most of them would happily rob his corpse a second time if given the chance.

The problem was that the Skull of Gul’dan was an extraordinary warlock artifact.

Watching a demon hunter claim it felt like seeing someone use a priceless spellbook as a paperweight.

It didn’t matter how many times people explained that the artifact enhanced Illidan’s abilities. Warlocks remained convinced it was being wasted.

Then alternate-timeline Gul’dan appeared, throwing history into chaos.

For a glorious moment, warlocks everywhere thought destiny was finally correcting itself.

Surely the Skull of Gul’dan would return to its rightful profession.

Instead...

Illidan showed up again.

Killed Gul’dan.

Claimed the skull.

And then destroyed it.

The artifact was unique.

There wasn’t another one.

To countless long-suffering warlocks, that bordered on a crime against civilization.

As if that weren’t enough, the two factions had spent years arguing over who really had the rights to demon transformation techniques.

By this point, they barely acknowledged each other’s existence.

Which meant the Illidari’s ascension ritual was one of their most closely guarded secrets.

Warlocks were never supposed to learn it.

Fortunately, Evenson didn’t need the instructions.

"You may have the recipe," he said, "but I understand the finished dish."

He carefully inspected the glowing fel tattoos covering Peggy Carter’s body, making sure every rune remained perfectly aligned.

"The ritual’s purpose is simple."

"A powerful demon’s soul and power are forced into the candidate’s body."

"The tattoos stabilize the process while the candidate destroys the demon’s soul, absorbs its power, and survives the transformation."

"When it’s over..."

"You have a demon hunter."

He straightened.

"Warlocks have been researching demon binding and fel infusion since long before the Illidari existed."

"I don’t need their ritual."

"I only need the same result."

"...Creative reasoning," Saloras observed.

Whether she meant it as praise or criticism was impossible to tell.

"Which brings us to the first step."

Evenson clapped his hands once.

"I need a powerful demon."

"One that’s about to become a sacrifice."

The instant the words left his mouth, something wrapped around his leg.

"Boss!"

A shrill, grief-stricken wail echoed through the room.

"Please don’t sacrifice me!"

Tripsy clung to Evenson’s calf with both arms, sobbing dramatically.

"I know I don’t contribute much! My presence is minimal! I’m lazy! I complain all the time! But I’ve always been loyal! Please don’t turn me into ritual ingredients!"

Evenson looked down.

The imp had already reached the ugly-crying stage.

Tears.

Snot.

Complete emotional collapse.

He was deeply moved.

"Get off."

He shook his leg violently.

Tripsy refused to let go.

Only after Tyler walked over and physically peeled the imp loose did Evenson finally regain his dignity.

Seriously.

Where had that little idiot found the confidence to think he qualified?

Who in their right mind performed a demon hunter ascension using an imp?

Aurecess ignored the spectacle and thoughtfully examined Evenson’s assembled demons.

"So."

"You need a sufficiently powerful sacrifice."

Her eyes swept across the room.

"Do you actually have one?"

She paused on the Felguard.

"Even that one seems inadequate."

"Correct."

Evenson straightened his clothing after the wrestling match with Tripsy.

Then he looked directly at the Eredar Twins.

"Personally..."

"I think the two of you would be perfect."

The sisters exchanged a glance.

Then both nodded with matching smiles.

"So do we."

"Traditionally," Saloras said as she casually lifted Peggy’s limp hand, "a newly ascended demon hunter should carry some sort of trophy."

She smiled sweetly.

"Perhaps... the Skull of Evenson?"

"Or maybe Richter’s skull."

"...Those are the same skull."

Evenson actually considered it for a second before smiling.

"I’m joking."

"I already have someone in mind."

"What a pity." Aurecess tilted her head theatrically. "I was hoping you weren’t."

Her expression became serious again.

"Who?"

"A demon under contract."

"I’ve never summoned him."

From the look on Evenson’s face, he clearly disliked the creature.

"Heartless," Saloras teased.

"Sacrificing one of your own subordinates."

Evenson stared at her.

"Did two senior demons just lecture me about employee welfare?"

That was rich.

The Burning Legion had never exactly been famous for compassionate management.

"We treat our subordinates quite well," Aurecess replied without a trace of irony.

Evenson opened his mouth to disagree.

Then he paused.

"...Actually..."

Thinking back...

"...You kind of do."

No wonder Agatha had...

The twins narrowed their eyes simultaneously.

"No wonder Agatha tricked..."

Evenson stopped himself just in time.

"...Convinced me to rescue you."

He smiled innocently.

Some truths were better left undisturbed.

"Unfortunately," he continued, "this particular subordinate isn’t nearly so cooperative."

He began counting on his fingers.

"Ugly."

"Rude."

"Violent."

"Completely disloyal."

"And most importantly..."

"He charges far too much."

"...I think I understand now."

The twins finally reached the heart of the issue.

After filtering out Evenson’s financial grievances, the remaining clues pointed toward only one possibility.

"A Doomguard."

"Exactly."

Evenson looked personally offended.

"Do you have any idea how much that bastard charges every single time I summon..."

"Ah!"

He yelped.

Aurecess calmly lifted her hoof off his foot.

"What was that?"

"I didn’t quite catch the end."

"...Nothing."

Evenson immediately regained his composure.

"We’ll begin the ritual."

Among the demons a typical warlock could enslave, Doomguards ranked near the top.

Ancient records claimed that mortal warlocks once required five casters working together just to summon one.

Even then, the ritual demanded the life of one of those warlocks as payment.

A fitting price for such an arrogant creature.

Across the room, an elaborate suppression array had already been prepared.

Evenson had no intention of giving the Doomguard a fair fight before sacrificing it.

Saloras examined the runes and gasped with exaggerated surprise.

"...This magic circle looks awfully familiar."

"It does," Aurecess agreed, her smile growing sharper.

"If I remember correctly..."

"Someone once planned to use this exact formation on us."

"You must be mistaken," Evenson replied with complete seriousness.

"Most magical arrays look broadly similar."

"...Perhaps."

Saloras smiled.

She didn’t sound convinced.

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