Chapter 818

What the hell had happened while he was away from Kamar-Taj?

Kaecilius stared at the New York Sanctum with a growing sense of disbelief. Apparently, staying away from society for too long had consequences.

Kamar-Taj had become almost unrecognizable.

The London Sanctum had already taught him what it meant to be on the receiving end of civilized magical security. Now New York had apparently decided to add another layer.

A door.

Not just any door, either.

This one looked expensive.

Kaecilius had already tested its durability. He couldn’t cut through it, and the thing was covered in magical runes that interfered with teleportation. Even trying to bypass it with a portal hadn’t worked.

Magic and technology working together.

Impressive.

The only problem was that it looked ridiculous.

The entire thing had been painted bright red, practically resembling an oversized red envelope. And, apparently, it was a password-protected red envelope.

The voice-activated lock displayed a string of characters on its surface.

Kaecilius frowned.

Were those magical incantations? Some foreign language? Was there a standardized pronunciation? Did he need to pronounce them according to some particular national accent? Perhaps they were supposed to be translated into English first. Latin might work. Greek, too.

How long would it take to test every possibility?

He was just beginning to consider the prospect when another thought occurred to him.

Why was he trying to open the door in the first place?

He had come here for revenge, yes. But that wasn’t his true objective.

He needed to destroy the Sanctum’s core and prepare the way for the arrival of the Great One.

The core wasn’t behind this door.

If the sorcerers wanted to hide inside, let them.

Kaecilius turned away from the door.

"Where are you going?"

He looked up.

Clea had already turned her back on him and was walking away.

"Running away too?"

Clea stopped.

Her brow furrowed, irritation flashing across her face as she looked over her shoulder.

"I’d love nothing more than to deal with you right now, but the timing isn’t right. The Sanctum’s core is inside. If destroying it is what you came for, then go ahead. I won’t stop you."

"You expect me to believe that?"

Kaecilius narrowed his eyes.

Once bitten, twice shy.

The last time he’d attacked the London Sanctum, he’d thought the core would be completely undefended.

Instead, the entire building had been blown to pieces.

If he hadn’t received power from Dormammu afterward, he probably wouldn’t have survived.

So why was Clea practically inviting him to destroy the core?

What kind of trap had she prepared this time?

"Believe me or don’t."

Clea shrugged.

"If you want to stand here and waste time with me, that’s fine. But do you really have that much time to spare?"

Kaecilius’s expression changed.

She was right.

Last time, he’d wasted too much time fighting this woman. By the time the Ancient One arrived, he’d lost a large portion of his forces.

If that happened again, things would be different this time. Kaecilius was confident he could escape even if he faced the Ancient One.

But destroying the Sanctum’s core while dealing with her?

Impossible.

"I think we should let her go."

Gilderes folded his arms across his chest.

His gaze remained fixed on Clea.

"She’s stronger than you think. Fighting her won’t be easy."

"If neither of you has anything else to say, I’ll be leaving."

Clea turned away again.

She took a single step before suddenly stopping.

"Oh, right."

She glanced back.

"Someone has prepared a special trial for you at the core. I hope you find it satisfying."

A special trial?

So there really was a trap waiting for him.

Kaecilius lowered his head, thinking it over.

When he looked up again, Clea was gone.

Completely gone.

His eyes swept across the corridor.

When had she left?

And how?

He hadn’t sensed a thing.

Her strength had increased that much?

But if she was truly this powerful, why hadn’t she joined the other sorcerers and attacked him together?

Why retreat without a fight?

Had he misjudged the situation?

Was she bluffing?

Or were they planning something else entirely?

Kaecilius entered the Sanctum with a troubled expression.

He had only taken a few steps when two figures blocked his path.

One was Mordo.

The other was a man Kaecilius didn’t recognize.

Stephen Strange.

After learning that the London Sanctum had fallen, Mordo had immediately realized that New York would be Kaecilius’s next target.

He hadn’t bothered explaining.

He’d simply grabbed the still-confused Strange and dragged him through a portal.

Mordo’s original plan had been simple. He and Strange would hide on the second floor, wait for Kaecilius and his followers to come upstairs, then ambush them.

Except they’d waited.

And waited.

And heard absolutely nothing.

Had Kaecilius somehow gotten stuck in his own portal?

Had he changed targets and gone to the Hong Kong Sanctum instead?

Eventually, Mordo had decided to investigate.

And the moment he and Strange reached the lower floor, they walked directly into Kaecilius.

All three men froze.

"This is awkward."

Then, almost simultaneously:

"Where are the other sorcerers?"

"Are you two the final trial standing between me and the core?"

Silence.

Mordo and Strange exchanged a glance.

Kaecilius was the first to recover.

"The sorcerers here aren’t willing to stop me. They’ve all hidden themselves."

His gaze settled on Mordo.

"If you’re smart, you’ll leave too. As for you..."

He looked at Strange.

Kaecilius frowned.

He didn’t recognize him.

"Strange. I’m a doctor."

"A doctor."

Kaecilius nodded.

"If you’re not a sorcerer, then this doesn’t concern you. Stay out of it."

Strange rolled his eyes.

As if I wanted to be involved in any of this.

He’d come here to treat patients, not join some magical gang war.

And after everything he’d endured, his hands still weren’t healed.

Even organized crime had better standards than sending a cripple into a fight.

He wanted absolutely no part of this.

Mordo, however, stepped forward.

"Whether it was London or New York, the sorcerers have failed the Ancient One."

His expression hardened.

"But I won’t."

"I’ll defend this Sanctum with my life."

Kaecilius gave a cold laugh.

"Mordo."

His eyes narrowed.

"You have no idea what kind of person you’re serving."

"Fanatic."

Before the confrontation could escalate, Gilderes stepped between them.

"We don’t have time for this."

He raised his hands.

"I’ll deal with him. Go destroy the core."

His lips moved.

A spell left his mouth.

Several grotesque creatures suddenly appeared beside him, each one covered in writhing tentacles and armed with enormous, tooth-filled mouths.

They lunged at Mordo.

"Strange!"

Mordo snapped his whip through the air, sending one of the creatures flying.

"Get to the core! Protect it!"

Strange turned and ran.

Whether he was actually heading toward the core or simply trying to get as far away from the battlefield as possible was impossible to say.

"Don’t let him escape!"

Kaecilius moved to pursue.

But Mordo intercepted him, barely managing to hold back Kaecilius’s remaining two followers.

Kaecilius clicked his tongue.

He had no choice.

He went after Strange alone.

He caught up with him on the second floor, inside one of the Sanctum’s artifact rooms.

Kaecilius conjured a pair of transparent magical blades and attacked.

Left.

Right.

Another slash.

Strange barely avoided each strike.

His movements were clumsy and desperate, but the training he’d received at Kamar-Taj wasn’t completely useless. He kept slipping past the attacks by inches.

Kaecilius couldn’t believe it.

How is this possible?

He’d studied magic at Kamar-Taj for years.

This man was practically a beginner.

Yet somehow, Strange was keeping up.

Magic really is about talent.

The Ancient One had noticed Strange almost immediately. She had even entrusted him with matters of enormous importance.

That alone spoke volumes about his potential.

His progress had been absurdly fast.

Still, experience mattered.

Eventually, Kaecilius drove Strange into a corner.

He raised his blade.

This time, there was nowhere left to run.

Then something moved behind Strange.

A flash of red.

A crimson cloak suddenly whipped out from the display case behind him and blocked Kaecilius’s attack.

Kaecilius froze.

"What?"

He struck again.

The cloak blocked it.

Again.

Blocked.

Again.

Blocked.

After several exchanges, Kaecilius finally lost patience.

He grabbed Strange by the collar with both hands and hurled him over the balcony.

Fine.

If I can’t cut you to pieces, I’ll just kill you the old-fashioned way.

But before Strange could hit the floor, the red cloak shot after him.

It caught him.

Then it carried him back up.

And, as if making its decision final, wrapped itself around Strange’s body.

Kaecilius stared.

No way.

At the moment his life was in danger, an artifact had jumped in to save him.

And now it had apparently chosen him.

This guy is trouble.

Strange, meanwhile, seemed less impressed.

He looked down at his empty hands.

Fighting Kaecilius unarmed wasn’t exactly ideal.

Then he noticed a large poleaxe hanging on the wall.

That would do.

He moved toward it.

The cloak disagreed.

It tugged him in the opposite direction.

Strange pulled back.

The cloak tugged harder.

They went back and forth.

For several seconds, the two of them engaged in what looked suspiciously like a tug-of-war.

Strange finally sighed.

"All right, all right. You win."

The cloak pulled him toward a strange metal frame mounted against the wall.

Kaecilius came charging after him.

Strange had no time to think.

He grabbed the frame and threw it.

The instant it struck Kaecilius, the metal contraption unfolded.

Clack.

Clack.

Clack.

The frame wrapped around Kaecilius’s body, locking his arms and legs in place.

He crashed onto his knees, pitched forward, and ended up sprawled face-first on the floor, his arms stretched helplessly behind him.

The device even sealed his mouth shut.

Strange stared.

"Huh."

He looked at the immobilized Kaecilius.

"That’s... surprisingly effective."

He decided that was enough.

The man couldn’t move anymore.

Time to leave.

Strange had no desire to kill anyone.

He was still a doctor.

Saving lives was his job.

Killing people could remain someone else’s specialty.

He had barely taken two steps when Kaecilius began muttering through the device.

Strange stopped.

The noise was irritating enough that he turned around.

He walked back and removed the metal plate covering Kaecilius’s mouth.

Kaecilius immediately began speaking.

He didn’t attack.

Instead, he tried persuasion.

"The Ancient One is a liar."

His voice was urgent.

"You shouldn’t trust her. She has survived this long by secretly drawing power from the Dark Dimension."

"And Dormammu is humanity’s only salvation."

Kaecilius spoke with absolute conviction.

"He can free this world from the tyranny of time. Once humanity becomes one with him, we will no longer be bound by age. No more decay. No more death."

Strange stared at him.

"...Okay."

He wasn’t impressed.

He was barely capable of accepting that magic and souls were real. Now some stranger was standing there talking about immortality and merging humanity with an extradimensional being.

It sounded completely detached from reality.

And immortality sounded wonderful.

But there had to be a price.

Strange didn’t bother asking.

He simply walked away.

Kaecilius remained trapped on the floor.

A moment later, footsteps came from the stairs.

Evenson descended at an unhurried pace.

He glanced at Kaecilius.

Then at the metal restraint.

Then back at Kaecilius.

His eyes lit up.

Wait.

The Sanctum has something like this?

How had he never noticed it?

"You."

Kaecilius stared at him.

Evenson was dressed in ordinary clothes, and Kaecilius didn’t recognize him.

"Who are you?"

"An enemy."

Evenson’s expression was cold.

"Absolutely."

Kaecilius’s blood ran cold.

I’m finished.

But instead of killing him, Evenson walked over and crouched beside the restraint.

He tapped the metal frame.

"How do I open this?"

Kaecilius blinked.

"What?"

"I don’t want to damage it."

Evenson examined the device with genuine interest.

"It’s valuable. Definitely worth keeping."

Kaecilius stared at him.

What kind of lunatic was this?

Still, he explained how the mechanism worked.

Evenson followed the instructions and pressed the appropriate mechanism.

The restraint immediately unlocked.

Kaecilius scrambled to his feet.

Evenson, meanwhile, picked up the device and stored it away.

"Now that’s a treasure."

He smiled to himself.

This will look great in the collection.

His imagination briefly wandered elsewhere.

Especially when I’m with Clea...

He grinned.

Kaecilius looked at him in disbelief.

"Why did you release me?"

He flexed his stiff wrists.

"We are enemies. If you’d killed me just now, this entire conflict could have ended."

He studied Evenson carefully.

"Have you finally realized what the Ancient One truly is? Are you going to support me?"

"No."

Evenson snapped back to reality.

"It’s nothing that complicated."

He gave Kaecilius a thin smile.

"I did it for..."

He paused.

"Right. Glory."

Kaecilius stared at him.

Idiot.

The contempt came naturally.

The man had just been handed a perfect opportunity to end the bloodshed.

Instead, he’d deliberately thrown it away.

What kind of idiot cared so much about "glory"?

"So..."

Kaecilius’s eyes narrowed.

"You’re giving me my freedom so we can fight fairly?"

"Absolutely not."

Evenson shook his head.

"I’m not a warrior. I hate fighting."

He’d rather not risk losing control and accidentally killing Kaecilius.

"Your opponent is waiting beside the Sanctum’s core."

Evenson’s smile returned.

"She’ll deal with you."

"I see."

Kaecilius backed away slowly.

He remained wary of Evenson.

"I hope you don’t regret this."

He turned and ran toward the core.

Evenson watched him disappear.

"No."

His voice was almost amused.

"The one who’ll regret this is you."

"And when you do, it’ll be the kind of regret that comes with pain and despair."

Kaecilius reached the chamber containing the Sanctum’s core.

The moment he entered, his senses sharpened.

Clea had fled.

The strange man who’d released him had apparently believed the same story about a final trial.

That meant someone was waiting here.

And if they were confident enough to call themselves the final obstacle, they couldn’t be weak.

A sudden whistle cut through the air behind him.

Kaecilius moved instantly.

He jumped aside.

A pair of magical blades tore through the space where his head had been.

He turned.

His opponent was a woman.

But she didn’t look anything like the other sorcerers he’d encountered inside the Sanctum.

She wore a tight black leather suit and a sealed hood that resembled a gas mask.

Two blades made entirely of woven magic extended from her hands.

Kaecilius studied her.

No shield.

No obvious defensive spell.

Apparently, she’d abandoned defense entirely in favor of a suicidal offensive style.

"I don’t know you."

He raised his weapon.

"May I have your name?"

The woman didn’t answer.

She attacked.

Kaecilius sighed and met her head-on.

The exchange was strange.

Almost immediately, Kaecilius realized something was wrong.

She wasn’t particularly strong.

Her power was comparable to the other Sanctum sorcerers he’d already defeated.

Her swordsmanship wasn’t impressive, either.

He could read her attacks with ease.

Every movement.

Every strike.

Every change in stance.

He knew what was coming before she moved.

And yet...

There was something deeply familiar about the way she fought.

Kaecilius couldn’t put his finger on it.

The battle continued.

His invisible blades cut across her body again and again.

Wounds opened across her black suit.

But no blood came out.

She didn’t even react.

Kaecilius frowned.

"You really are different."

He studied her.

"You don’t bleed. You don’t feel pain."

"Are you some kind of combat construct?"

The wounds looked almost artificial, as though he’d been cutting through leather rather than flesh.

Yet the woman continued fighting without hesitation.

No pain.

No blood loss.

No reduction in movement.

Nothing.

Still, it was only a matter of time.

Kaecilius knew her movements too well.

He waited.

Watched.

Then found the opening.

His blade drove forward.

It pierced her chest.

Straight through the heart.

Kaecilius withdrew his weapon.

Even without blood, even without pain, the heart was still a vital organ.

Destroy it, and anything should die.

He looked at the woman.

So this is the final trial?

Hardly worth mentioning.

Just as he’d expected, the woman collapsed.

Except...

She didn’t.

Her arms hung loosely at her sides.

Then, for the first time, she spoke.

"Kaecilius..."

His blood ran cold.

"Was it you who killed me?"

Kaecilius froze.

That voice.

He knew that voice.

His eyes widened.

"You..."

The woman continued.

"Was it you?"

Kaecilius stared at her.

"No."

His voice trembled.

"That voice..."

He knew it.

He’d heard it countless times.

It had haunted him for years.

"No."

He took an unsteady step backward.

"This isn’t possible."

"You already..."

The sealed hood suddenly cracked.

Then shattered.

Piece by piece, the mask fell away.

A familiar face appeared beneath it.

Kaecilius stopped breathing.

"No."

The name tore from his throat.

"Millia!"

His voice broke.

"How... how can it be you?"

The woman standing before him was the reason he’d fallen into darkness.

The person he’d desperately wanted to resurrect.

The person whose memory had driven him to seek Dormammu’s power.

His beloved wife.

Millia.

She was standing before him.

And he’d just stabbed her through the heart.