Chapter 59: A New ‘Superpower’

The Milky Way is vast; even traveling at the speed of light, it would take at least ten thousand years to traverse from one end to the other. Within its expanse, most planets and stars are desolate beyond measure, devoid of any life forms. Only beings possessing self-awareness can give rise to true power, and among those who stand atop the heavens and stars—those of the Heavenly Father level or individual universe level—there are but a handful.

The name "Cyttorak" made Dormammu uneasy; his colossal, dark planetary face shifted. "Kaecilius, I will not listen to excuses. Use any method you can conceive to destroy the three Great Sanctums and prepare for my arrival. If you succeed, you will be my most loyal servant, and I never withhold rewards from those devoted to me. If you fail, you will be obliterated!"

The overwhelming surge of darkness pressed Kaecilius and his band of fanatical fallen followers to the ground. This was the absolute oppression from a being of a higher dimension and superior power; like helpless herbivores caught in the gaze of a predator, before such force, resistance was unthinkable, and even the thought of questioning the command was forbidden.

"Great Lord of Darkness, I, Kaecilius, will risk my life to fulfill your mission!"

In the next instant, countless dark energies flooded Kaecilius’s chest, repairing his damaged heart yet inflicting tremendous pain. He convulsed uncontrollably.

Dormammu frowned as he watched Kaecilius struggle, a growing sense of foreboding gnawing at him. He was reminded of the Dormammu from another parallel universe, who had sent him a transmission—a memory that unsettled him deeply. "I care nothing for your life! Do as you wish!"

With that, the darkness that seemed to cloak the entire world receded like a tide, leaving Kaecilius and his followers drenched and gasping, prostrate upon the ground. After a long moment, Kaecilius finally managed to rise. "Everyone, prepare to attack again." With those words, he strode toward the exit of the chapel.

"Master, where are you going?" a fallen follower asked timidly.

"To buy some insurance!"

Kaecilius made his way to a deserted, abandoned basement, where he took out a crucifix—though this one was inverted. An upright cross represents Jesus. But an inverted cross… often signifies the devil.

He softly recited an incantation. A vague, crimson-skinned semi-transparent figure appeared before him, emitting a screeching, owl-like, eerie voice, laced with powerful temptation.

"Hehehe! Zealot Kaecilius, I thought you’d never use this message seal in your lifetime. So, have you changed your mind? Or has Dormammu abandoned you? You could come to my side, you know!"

Kaecilius replied in a cold, steely tone, "Enough nonsense. My loyalty to my master will never waver. I merely wish to ask if your previous proposal still stands?"

"Hehehehe! Of course it does! Naturally it does! After all, we share a common enemy, don’t we?" The owner of the voice laughed wildly.

"Very well. Deal!"

"Deal!"

Without hesitation, Kaecilius destroyed the damned inverted cross with a burst of magical flames. Dealing with such entities—even a second longer was agony.

Meanwhile, at the New York Sanctum, Meimu was oblivious to the fact that his presence had prompted several dark world big shots to make various secret deals.

To be honest, he felt a bit lost. Damn it, the plot seemed to be veering off track.

Three days passed in peaceful silence. If it weren't for the system failing to give a "Kill Kaecilius" prompt, Meimu would have thought the guy was dead.

You can be a thief for a thousand days, but you can't guard against a thief for a thousand days.

Luckily, Meimu had things to occupy himself with—namely, his "Zealots Must Die" project.

Mordo asked, "Meimu, are you sure you want to do this? On the surface, the New York Sanctum is a private museum. We rely on showcasing artifacts here to earn the funds needed for our sorcerers and apprentices to live. If you turn it into this, and Kaecilius never comes, we can forget about ticket sales as a source of income."

It was good that Mordo had taken on the assistant role, but the guy’s aura of poverty was incurable.

Meimu rolled his eyes. Truly, a fallen noble is worse off than a dog.

Mordo’s aristocratic background was, in theory, legitimate. His baronial title came from his homeland. His home, Walfr Mandera, belonged to Transylvania, which is part of Romania.

The humanitarian crisis in Yemen saw millions of refugees flooding into Europe, but even those who passed through Romania never wanted to stay a second longer. That’s because Romania is dirt poor.

Once a nation of glorious history, Romania is now the poorest country in Europe—almost without exception.

The noble status of this black fellow might fool some rural nouveau riche, but anyone with real insight wouldn’t take it seriously.

Kamar-Taj was truly destitute.

Meimu sighed, pressing forward with a grand argument: "Hey, man, isn’t it always Master’s teaching that ‘worldly possessions’ are meaningless? Right now, we face the threat of world annihilation. We must focus on guarding against Kaecilius and the other fallen."

"The Sanctum needs repairs, and all your little projects require funding. We're running short. Sorcerers are people too, and people need to eat! Master Ancient One has started a donation drive among followers at Kamar-Taj but the funds can’t be raised overnight..."

As Mordo spoke, Meimu pulled a black credit card from his waist pouch. "Don’t worry about the money. I can cover the gap for now. This is a MasterCard Black Card. If I want, I could buy half the street opposite the Sanctum."

Mordo’s eyes nearly popped out, stunned by Meimu’s generosity.

"What?" Mordo’s face was filled with disbelief. "Are you sure? Even after the last battle in New York caused property prices to drop, this is still Manhattan!"

Meimu shrugged, nonchalantly producing a stack of crisp ‘Franklins’—hundred-dollar bills. "Here, use these for now. Keep a record. If Kamar-Taj can reimburse, fine. If not, forget it."

"You just went out to get this?" Mordo was still dazed.

"There’s an ATM on the corner," Meimu replied, as if it were the most ordinary thing in the world, leaving Mordo speechless.

"Worldly attachments are meaningless!" This was the doctrine Ancient One had always imparted.

Yet even heroes can be stumped by a penny.

After today, Meimu would likely gain another superpower—being rich.