Evenson’s brow furrowed.
Still maintaining the ritual, he looked up toward the enormous portal hanging above Manhattan.
"...Something’s changed."
"The Tesseract’s energy output hasn’t dropped..."
"...but the portal has stopped expanding."
Most people wouldn’t have noticed.
But creating stable portals across shattered dimensions was a warlock’s specialty.
He immediately sensed the discrepancy.
The Tesseract continued releasing power at a perfectly steady rate.
Yet the portal’s growth had slowed...
Then stopped altogether.
Something else was interfering.
"The sorcerers?"
Evenson turned toward the New York Sanctum.
Even from several blocks away, he could feel an immense concentration of arcane power.
Then his eyes narrowed.
"No..."
"Not them."
"She’s here."
A faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
"So the Ancient One has finally entered the stage."
He let his gaze linger for only a moment before returning to the ritual.
After this is over...
I suppose it’s finally time for us to meet.
Within the Order, even the strongest masters were worlds apart from the Sorcerer Supreme.
Not because the Ancient One selfishly hoarded knowledge.
The truth was far simpler.
The magic she practiced was too dangerous.
Unlike the arcane traditions of Azeroth’s mages, the Ancient One drew power directly from the Dark Dimension.
In that regard, her path resembled the Shadow Priests of Azeroth far more than any conventional mage.
And Shadow Priests paid dearly for that strength.
Many became twisted beyond recognition.
Others surrendered to the Void’s whispers and lost themselves completely.
Even those with extraordinary discipline could become intoxicated by the power they wielded or perish after a single mistake.
The Dark Dimension was no kinder.
Perhaps it wasn’t the Void itself.
But it was dangerous enough.
The Ancient One had never believed it responsible to expose inexperienced students to such risks.
The existence of those who had betrayed the Order only reinforced that conviction.
"The portal has stabilized!"
"The Sorcerer Supreme actually did it!"
Relief swept through the New York Sanctum.
The moment the Ancient One joined the ritual, the deteriorating situation immediately came under control.
"Don’t relax."
Golden mandalas continued spinning beneath the Ancient One’s hands as she adjusted the spell with effortless precision.
The amber glow illuminated her calm features, nearly concealing the faint trace of violet hidden deep within her eyes.
"The artifact sustaining that portal..."
"...is no ordinary relic."
Privately, she found the entire situation deeply irritating.
The Asgardians had stayed away from Earth for over a thousand years.
Then, almost immediately after returning...
They managed to unleash an alien invasion.
If she hadn’t been occupied stabilizing reality itself, she’d have enjoyed teaching the young man with the antlers a rather memorable lesson.
"Sorcerer Supreme."
Olivan spoke respectfully.
"What should we do about the dark warlock?"
As Evenson’s ritual advanced, the aura radiating from it became increasingly terrifying.
Olivan wasn’t arrogant enough to mistake courage for competence.
He knew perfectly well that he probably wasn’t capable of defeating the hooded warlock.
Pride had limits.
Stupidity did not.
Now that the Sorcerer Supreme had arrived...
It seemed only natural to ask for guidance.
The Ancient One looked toward Evenson’s rooftop.
Her perception far exceeded Olivan’s.
She saw more than he ever could.
Danger.
Extraordinary danger.
But...
Not hostility.
She watched Chitauri soldiers repeatedly assault the rooftop.
She watched Evenson’s followers brutally incapacitate them before tossing the barely living aliens into the ritual circle.
After a moment’s thought, she shook her head.
"Leave him be."
Among the entire Order, the oldest person present also happened to be the most open-minded.
Perhaps that was inevitable.
Those who believed themselves inherently superior usually possessed only enough knowledge to become arrogant.
Those who had witnessed centuries of history learned humility instead.
The Ancient One herself drew strength from a force many considered forbidden.
Naturally...
She couldn’t condemn another practitioner simply because his magic appeared dark.
Especially when he seemed to be standing on humanity’s side.
She smiled faintly.
"After this crisis ends..."
"I’ll meet him personally."
Evenson continued chanting in the demonic tongue.
Every strike of his staff against the rooftop followed an exact rhythm.
Unfortunately...
The ritual was progressing far less smoothly than he’d hoped.
"The sacrifices are terrible."
He couldn’t help complaining.
Originally, he’d estimated that five Chitauri souls would be sufficient.
He’d been spectacularly wrong.
Each Chitauri possessed only about one-third of a normal soul.
That made no sense.
Ordinarily, body and soul existed in rough equilibrium.
A deficiency in one inevitably reflected the other.
"So that’s it..."
He reached the obvious conclusion.
"These aren’t a naturally evolved species."
"They’re manufactured."
"Living weapons."
Inferior quality meant greater quantity.
Fortunately...
The city was overflowing with Chitauri.
Some were even thoughtful enough to attack his rooftop voluntarily.
Taylor and the others simply captured them alive, beat them senseless, and tossed them into the ritual circle.
Eventually...
Enough fractured souls accumulated.
Evenson inhaled deeply.
"...That should do it."
He raised both hands.
Then shouted in the demonic tongue.
"Awaken!"
"Awaken!"
"Awaken..."
"...Ulthalesh!"
Apparently, after spending far too long sitting quietly in his dimensional storage, the Artifact Weapon had fallen into an actual slumber.
Which meant...
Before borrowing its power...
He first had to wake it up.
The crimson edge of the great scythe suddenly blazed with blood-red light.
A horrifying pressure erupted into the sky.
Even the Ancient One’s calm expression shifted.
Perhaps...
Meeting this mysterious warlock afterward required considerably more caution than she’d originally imagined.
Thick crimson mist poured from the Artifact Weapon.
It gathered above the ritual circle.
Expanded.
Condensed.
Slowly, the outline of a gigantic dreadlord emerged.
A booming laugh echoed across the rooftop.
"Hahaha!"
The blood mist dispersed.
The towering phantom of Ulthalesh stood revealed.
Well...
Almost.
The first thing everyone saw wasn’t an ancient terror.
It was a dreadlord sitting cross-legged on the ground.
A fistful of playing cards was raised dramatically in one hand, poised to slam them onto an invisible table.
"Hah! The Light can kiss my..."
Ulthalesh suddenly stopped mid-sentence.
He looked around.
Blink.
Blink again.
Then slowly turned his head toward Evenson.
Evenson stared back.
Both of them wore exactly the same bewildered expression.
Visit and read more novel to help us update chapter quickly. Thank you so much!
Use arrow keys (or A / D) to PREV/NEXT chapter