Chapter 819

"What the hell happened here? I was expecting some heartwarming reunion between husband and wife, but instead I walked in on a murder scene."

Evenson Richter sauntered into the chamber, glanced around, and put on an expression of exaggerated surprise. The amusement in his voice, however, was impossible to hide.

And he doubted he was the only one enjoying the sight.

On a day like this, watching two people who had once been husband and wife try to kill each other was bound to be satisfying for more than a few people.

Kaecilius stared down at the woman in his arms.

Milaya was cold.

He had betrayed the world for the chance to see his beloved wife again. He had sacrificed everything for that single reunion.

Instead, their reunion had become another farewell.

And this time, he had been the one to kill her.

"How... how did this happen?"

Kaecilius remained on the floor, clutching Milaya’s lifeless body. His mind had collapsed into chaos. At this point, if someone walked up and put a blade to his throat, he probably wouldn’t even resist.

Then he slowly raised his head.

"This was your test, wasn’t it?"

His eyes fixed on Evenson.

"You arranged all of this."

A realization had finally begun to take shape.

The sorcerers at the New York Sanctum had never truly fought him.

Clea and Evenson had ignored him instead of stopping him.

They had even helped him reach the heart of the Sanctum.

Because they had wanted him to kill Milaya himself.

"Yes."

Evenson smiled.

He didn’t bother denying it.

"I arranged the whole thing. And believe me, it wasn’t easy. Do you have any idea how difficult it is to dig a corpse out of permafrost more than six thousand meters above sea level? My arms are still sore."

"You... How?"

Kaecilius looked down at Milaya in disbelief.

"She has been dead for so long. How could you possibly...?"

"Why couldn’t I?"

Evenson gave a quiet laugh.

"Death is just another state as far as I’m concerned. Your wife’s soul wasn’t bound by some overwhelming force, and there weren’t any troublesome side effects to worry about. Bringing her back wasn’t particularly difficult."

"Then why did she fight me?"

Kaecilius’s trembling fingers brushed against Milaya’s cheek.

"Did she reject what I’ve become? Did she hate what I’ve done?"

"How would I know? I never asked her."

Evenson shrugged.

"In fact, she never had free will in the first place. From the moment I resurrected her, every word she spoke and every movement she made was under my control."

Evenson couldn’t command an army of undead on the scale of the Lich King.

But controlling a single recently resurrected corpse—especially one that wasn’t particularly powerful—was well within his abilities.

Kaecilius finally understood.

"You resurrected her and controlled her so that I would kill her myself."

His eyes were empty.

For several seconds, he looked less like a living man than a corpse that had forgotten to lie down.

Then rage exploded through him.

"Why would you do something like this?!"

Evenson stared at him.

"You really have the nerve to ask me that?"

His voice hardened.

"You hurt Clea. You nearly killed her. You almost took the woman I love away from me."

His expression twisted into something cold.

"That kind of pain isn’t pleasant. So naturally, I wanted you to experience it too."

"I see..."

Kaecilius had wondered why Evenson hated him so viciously despite this being their first meeting.

Now he understood.

It was because he had nearly killed Clea.

If he had another chance, Kaecilius thought bitterly, he would have killed that woman without hesitation.

Then Evenson could understand what true heartbreak felt like.

But it was too late for that now.

"You hate me. Fine. I can understand that."

Kaecilius looked down at his wife.

"But this is between you and me. Why did you drag Milaya into it?"

He had killed her.

He knew how much that had hurt him.

But what had Milaya experienced?

She had clawed her way back from death only to find herself trapped inside a body she couldn’t control, forced to fight the man she loved, forced to cross blades with him, and finally forced to die by his hand.

What kind of regret and helplessness had she experienced during that brief return to life?

"I dragged her into it because I wanted to."

Evenson’s answer was brutally straightforward.

"We aren’t simply enemies on opposite sides of an ideological dispute. You and I have a personal grudge."

His gaze sharpened.

"When someone crosses my line, I don’t believe in half measures when it comes to revenge."

"Are you a devil?"

Kaecilius stared at him.

The man standing before him was cruel enough to make the title seem appropriate.

"Don’t misunderstand."

Evenson shook his head.

"I’m a Warlock. In some respects, I suppose I am a devil."

Kaecilius closed his eyes.

For a long moment, he said nothing.

Then he carefully placed Milaya’s body on the ground and rose to his feet.

"Then I have a proposal."

He faced Evenson directly.

"You hate me. Fine. Give me to you. Do whatever you want with me. I won’t resist."

His expression was utterly serious.

"But in exchange, resurrect Milaya again."

He swallowed.

"And let her live."

Evenson raised an eyebrow.

"You’re serious?"

"Completely."

Kaecilius nodded.

"I don’t know how powerful you truly are. Even if you’re stronger than me, I believe I could still escape if I truly wanted to."

His eyes were calm now.

"I won’t fight you. I’ll simply keep escaping from you."

A bitter smile touched his lips.

"There is nothing left in this world that I care about. If you let me escape, you’ll lose your chance to punish me forever. All you’ll have left is your hatred, eating away at you for the rest of your life."

"Oh."

Evenson nodded slowly.

"I see."

He looked thoughtful.

"That actually is a pretty tempting offer."

He raised one hand and pointed toward Milaya’s corpse.

"But I’m going to have to say no."

The instant the words left his mouth, flames erupted across Milaya’s body.

The corpse disappeared inside the inferno.

Seconds later, nothing remained but ash.

"You bastard!"

Kaecilius snapped.

He drew both blades and charged.

There was no defense in his attack. No caution. No attempt to preserve his own life.

He simply wanted to die.

"Ha!"

Evenson didn’t move.

A barrier of void energy flashed into existence, catching both blades head-on.

Then a mass of shadow exploded between them.

Kaecilius was hurled backward.

Evenson had carefully controlled the force behind the attack. The Shadow Fury shouldn’t have caused any serious injury.

Kaecilius didn’t care.

He wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth and charged again.

This time, Evenson reached to his waist and casually threw something at him.

Kaecilius instinctively assumed it was a weapon.

Without even looking, he swung one blade and knocked it aside.

"Congratulations."

Evenson clapped his hands, looking delighted.

"You just destroyed your wife’s soul."

Kaecilius froze.

He turned.

The object he had struck lay shattered across the floor.

A purple crystal.

His face went pale.

"A Soul Crystal," Evenson explained cheerfully. "Warlocks are rather good at manipulating souls. One of our favorite tricks is condensing a living soul into a crystal."

He tilted his head.

"Unfortunately, I may have made a little mistake."

His smile widened.

"That happened to be your wife’s soul."

Kaecilius stared at the fragments.

"That’s... unfortunate."

Evenson sighed theatrically.

"Her body is ash, and her soul has been shattered into pieces. At this point, she’s essentially beyond resurrection."

He paused.

"Unless some truly powerful being could put her soul back together."

"A powerful being...?"

Kaecilius’s fury faltered.

His eyes suddenly sharpened.

"Could Dormammu do it?"

"Ah..."

Evenson immediately covered his mouth with both hands.

He looked like a man who had just realized he’d said far too much.

"No. Absolutely not. Dormammu couldn’t do it."

Kaecilius stared at him.

Then he smiled.

"So that’s your answer."

Evenson knew he had given himself away.

"Then I’ll have to stop you."

He raised both hands, flames gathering around his palms as he prepared for battle.

"I told you before."

Kaecilius’s eyes burned with renewed hope.

"You can’t catch me."

He brought his hands together.

Space warped.

Two massive sections of wall that had previously been separated suddenly slammed together, forming a barrier between him and Evenson.

By the time the dust settled, Kaecilius was gone.

Evenson extinguished the flames in his hands.

He didn’t pursue.

That was fast.

He lowered his arms with a casual shrug.

Good. Saves me the trouble of fighting him while deliberately holding back and pretending to leave an opening.

A voice came from behind him.

"You’re really letting him go?"

Evenson turned.

Gildres had appeared behind him.

"You’re not actually sending him to Dormammu to resurrect his wife, are you?"

Evenson snorted.

"Of course not."

"I see."

Gildres’s shoulders began to shake with quiet laughter.

"True suffering isn’t static. It changes."

His enormous eyes gleamed.

"Despair becomes hope. Hope becomes despair. Then the cycle repeats."

He looked toward the direction Kaecilius had fled.

"You drove him completely into despair. He was ready to throw his life away."

Gildres turned back toward Evenson.

"Then, at the very bottom of that despair, you gave him hope."

His smile widened.

"So now you’ll let him get close to succeeding before taking that hope away."

"Exactly."

Evenson nodded.

"You understand me perfectly. Great minds really do think alike."

He grinned.

"As expected of the Demon Marshal."

"Oh, right."

Evenson turned and gave Gildres a slight bow.

"You came here personally and helped me with all of this. I owe you my thanks."

"There’s no need."

Gildres returned the gesture with equal courtesy.

"I only hope you will honor our agreement with the same diligence."

"I will."

Evenson’s expression became solemn.

"Now that everything is settled, you shouldn’t remain here any longer. It would be best for you to leave."

"Of course."

Gildres glanced down at the book in his hands.

Then he extended it toward Evenson.

"The Necronomicon. It is time I returned it to its rightful owner."

Evenson stared at the book for a moment.

He was genuinely surprised.

He hadn’t expected Gildres to hand it back so easily.

"The Demon Marshal is certainly a man of his word."

"I am merely honoring our agreement."

Gildres smiled.

A voice suddenly came from behind Evenson.

"Should I call that keeping one’s word?"

Evenson turned.

The Ancient One stood there, her expression dark with irritation.

"You two certainly managed to accomplish quite a lot behind my back."

She strode forward and snatched the Necronomicon from Gildres’s hands.

"It’s been a long time, Gildres."

Evenson blinked.

"You two already knew each other?"

The Necronomicon contained knowledge that should never have been allowed to circulate freely.

The Ancient One could hardly tolerate such a dangerous artifact remaining in Gildres’s possession.

She was powerful enough to defeat him.

But the book itself was the real problem.

So instead of fighting him, they had made a deal.

Gildres would surrender the Necronomicon, leave Kamar-Taj alone, and stop committing atrocities.

In exchange, the Ancient One would let him walk away.

At the time, Gildres had already decided that the book was useless to his own ambitions.

Returning it had cost him little.

And it had bought him a favor.

"Ancient One."

Gildres’s expression became unusually respectful.

"After all these years, you remain in excellent health. I’m delighted to see it."

Then his smile became faintly mischievous.

"Though... have you ever thought about certain events from our past?"

The Ancient One’s brow twitched.

"If you want your head to remain attached to your neck, don’t bring that subject up again."

She turned away irritably.

"And what you did today seems to have violated our agreement."

"Did it?"

Gildres looked genuinely surprised.

"I merely assisted Kamar-Taj."

His smile remained perfectly composed.

"You must understand that if I hadn’t intervened, and you had allowed that so-called fanatic to attack your sorcerers directly, the outcome would have been considerably bloodier."

The Ancient One waved dismissively.

"You have a point."

She pointed toward the exit.

"Now get out."

"Then I shall take my leave."

Gildres bowed deeply.

His figure gradually faded from sight.

The Ancient One watched him disappear before turning toward Evenson.

"How did you end up getting involved with someone like that?"

"Pure coincidence, more or less."

Evenson tilted his head.

"Although, now that I think about it, there’s something strange about the two of you."

"What?"

"He treats you with an almost ridiculous amount of respect."

Evenson rubbed his chin.

"But you seem to genuinely hate him."

He paused.

"Not politically. Not professionally. Personally."

"Because he’s insane."

The Ancient One’s answer came immediately.

"When we first met, he called me the Holy Maiden."

Evenson blinked.

The Ancient One’s expression darkened further.

"He was convinced I was the reincarnation of Joan of Arc. Apparently, he still believes it."

She crossed her arms.

"His reasoning was that if I were a few years younger, I’d look exactly like Joan of Arc."

She scoffed.

"Apparently, it’s my fault I look old."

Evenson rubbed his forehead.

"No way."

He sighed.

"He really is insane."

Then he thought about it for a moment.

"Although... you’re British. How exactly are you supposed to be the reincarnation of a French woman?"

He paused.

"Sure, you both fought the Saxons, but weren’t you around for, what, a thousand years before her?"

Evenson spread his hands.

"If anything, Joan would have to be your reincarnation."

The Ancient One stared at him.

Evenson grinned.

"There’s no way around that one."