Inside the Cayenne, its ceiling transformed into a starry night, Amon unfurled a scroll, its surface covered in strange, ancient characters.
"Is this the Scroll of Chthon?"
He frowned slightly, studying the ancient script.
The Scroll of Chthon was written by the Elder God Chthon, the precursor to the Darkhold, a book containing the most terrifying black magic in the world. It was incredibly powerful, corrupting anyone who read it, stealing their souls and possessing them. It was the source of the Necronomicon and the Book of Curses.
If the "Vishanti Book" used by the Sorcerer Supreme was like the Nine Yang Manual, then the Scroll of Chthon was like the Nine Yin Manual they're the complete opposite. The two books contained opposing and conflicting magic. Practicing Chthonian magic could lead to corruption, even twisting the mind and plunging it into darkness.
But Amon had nothing to worry about. He didn't need to draw power from Chthon to use the Scroll. Chthon couldn't influence him.
"If I remember correctly, there's something in here that can help Wanda stabilize her powers..."
Amon glanced over the Scroll, a thought forming in his mind. In the original movie, Wanda used the Scroll to practice Chaos Magic. A small amount of practice wouldn't have too much of an impact.
"I need to find a way to help Wanda with the Scroll."
Amon put the Scroll back into the system and pondered. Controlling her powers was crucial for Wanda. The incident in Germany was partly due to her lack of control. With her true power, she could have easily controlled that explosion.
"Maybe...I should go pick up Wanda now?"
Amon thought of Wanda's face, a mischievous grin spreading across his lips. He could imagine the expression on her face when she saw him. He had a bit of a mischievous streak.
He pulled out his phone and dialed Wanda's number without hesitation.
...
Wanda's room in the Avengers Base.
Wanda was curled up in her blankets, images of the previous night flashing through her mind.
"w(?Д?)w!"
She desperately wanted to forget, but the pain in her body reminded her constantly.
"That damn Amon! He didn't even introduce himself!"
If the maid hadn't called him by name, Wanda wouldn't have known who he was. And for some reason, a strange feeling lingered in her heart.
Bzzzt!
Her phone, on silent, vibrated on the bed.
"Hello? Who is it?"
Wanda answered the call, her voice weary.
"My lovely little witch, you've already forgotten me?"
Amon's voice came through the phone, and Wanda nearly jumped out of her skin. She hadn't expected him to call so soon.
"You...why are you calling me?"
Wanda stammered, her voice trembling.
"Why do you think?"
Amon's voice was laced with playful teasing.
Wanda hesitated for a moment, her cheeks flushing crimson. "You...you're calling to be a...a pervert?"
"I'm just thinking about my witch."
Amon's deep, distinctive voice sent a shiver down her spine.
"Who...who's your witch? Don't talk nonsense!"
Wanda's heart skipped a beat at his words. Amon had definitely made an impact on her. No woman could forget that experience.
"Oh?"
Amon leaned back in his seat, a smirk playing on his lips. "So you're saying you won't take responsibility? Then I'll tell Tony Stark!"
He could hear Wanda's indignant voice on the other end, and he could picture her expression.
"What do you want?"
Wanda's voice was wary.
"I want to talk to you about our...relationship."
Amon stretched out the word "relationship," his voice low and suggestive.
"You just want to...you filthy animal!"
Wanda could imagine Amon's mischievous grin. She clenched her fist around her cup, her anger rising.
"Where are you?"
Amon pressed.
"Fine!"
Wanda gritted her teeth. "Go to the back gate of the base. I'll be there."
...
Two white buildings connected by an aerial walkway, with two large helipads. From above, it looked like a connected V-shape. This was the Avengers Base, built with the sponsorship of Stark Industries.
Amon drove his Cayenne towards the Avengers Base, swaying slightly to the rhythm of the music. He saw a group of people in the middle of the road ahead, holding signs.
"Superheroes Out of New York!"
"We Don't Need These Hypocritical Thugs!"
"Wanda Out of This City! She's a Demon!"
"She's Just Using Justice as an Excuse to Hurt People!"
...
The protesters were chanting and marching towards the Avengers Base.
"This..."
Amon was speechless. The people here were incredibly "simple." He would get a headache just seeing this every day, let alone Wanda.
These poor people were just being manipulated by the media. Both sides were victims. The real beneficiaries were the higher-ups. That was the truth of the world. Creating conflict was the only way to maintain their interests.
"Poor Wanda..."
Amon turned down the music, his cheerful mood fading. She was just a poor soul, and she had to endure this.
Buzz!
His phone vibrated.
[Wanda]: "I'm at the back gate."
Amon turned his car onto a side road. He hadn't driven far when a figure burst out of the woods.
Screech!
Amon slammed on the brakes at the last second.
"What the hell?"
He looked up, frowning. Was the Cayenne's charm working on the forest?
Then, several more figures emerged from the woods. They were men and women, their faces painted white. They pounded on the windows and hood of the car, their teeth bared menacingly.
"Get out of here! You're with the Avengers!"
"I saw you! You're going to sneak into the Avengers Base!"
"Make that damn bitch Wanda get out! Or you're dead!"
"Don't think you can escape punishment! You're murdering demons!"
Amon gritted his teeth, veins popping out on his forehead. He was baffled by these crazies. Even in a zombie apocalypse, they wouldn't be this insane.
"Damn it! Are you trying to nano-rescue me?"
He thought they were just paid to do this. Someone was deliberately trying to stir things up and force the Avengers to compromise.
He unbuckled his seatbelt and rolled up his sleeves.
Just then, his phone buzzed.
[Wanda]: "Ignore them. Go back."
Amon saw that Wanda was watching him. He tapped a few buttons on his phone and sent a message.
[Amon]: "They need a lesson."
The Avengers couldn't use force for justice, but he could. He wasn't an Avenger.
Justice? Moral blackmail?
If you have no morals, no one could blackmail you.
Amon opened the car door and stepped out. His imposing physique immediately intimidated the protesters.
"I'm out. Come at me."
Amon's expression was cold, his gaze fixed on the protesters.
The protesters took a step back, intimidated by his presence. They hadn't expected him to get out of the car.
"Fake! He's alone! What are we afraid of?"
"Let's teach this arrogant prick a lesson!"
"He's not a superhero! Attack! All of you!"
A few of the protesters gritted their teeth, raised their signs, and swung them at Amon.
Whoosh!
As the signs flew through the air, their eyes suddenly flickered with a dark light. They stopped their swings and smashed their signs into their companions.
"Fake! Are you blind?"
"Ah! Don't hit me! Are you on drugs?"
"Who brought this guy here?"
...
The protesters turned on each other, like wild animals, biting and clawing.
"Tsk!"
Amon's pupils glowed red, a mesmerizing and unsettling sight. He shook his head in disdain and got back into the car.
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Advance 30 Chapters In My:
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