Marvel's master of cosmic magic-Chapter 816

While his other incarnations moved across distant fronts, Rowan Mercer’s newest self remained busy in this world.

If he wanted to use lesser offshoots to probe the chaos beyond reality, he first needed a decisive advantage. That meant securing the unique authority tied to Amon’s distorted path, enough to dramatically reinforce his avatars. Yet Rowan did not act with brute force. He could have blanketed the entire planet with his awareness, located Amon instantly, and stripped him of that authority in a single motion. He chose restraint.

Part of it was timing. His other selves had only just finished absorbing their respective worlds. Their power had surged violently, leaping into true multiversal territory, and such growth demanded consolidation. There was no need to rush another fragment into the unknown while that stabilization was still underway.

The other reason was caution. Amon was not alone.

Beyond this Earth lay countless alien worlds and civilizations, and among them lurked old cosmic predators. If Rowan moved too openly while hunting Amon, those beings might scatter across the universe and vanish into hiding. Tracking them down afterward would be tedious, even for him.

So he stayed with the original plan.

When King George Augustus III completed his ascension and claimed the mantle of the Black Emperor, Rowan would take Amon in passing. Adam, the true hand behind the curtain, would inevitably reveal himself as well. Once both were dealt with and his own state fully stabilized, Rowan would hunt down every remaining outer god at his leisure. After that, he would unseal the fog barrier left behind by the ancient Sovereign, claim all the primordial essence within, and finally absorb this world whole.

It was only one world, but its weight was extraordinary. In terms of value, it rivaled twenty ordinary ones. A feast worth waiting for.

Why not seize the primordial essence first and deal with the outer gods later?

Because the answer hadn’t changed. Rowan could breach that fog barrier even without external amplification, but doing so too early would spook his prey. He preferred them unaware, complacent, still believing themselves unseen.

The newspaper rustled softly.

Lying in a cradle, Rowan scanned the headline his father had brought home:

"Ruler of Loen, East Balam, and the Rorsted Archipelago, our great King George Augustus III, will deliver a public address tomorrow in the Grand Square."

A faint smile tugged at Rowan’s lips.

Tomorrow, it would all come to an end.

"It’s time to leave this place," he murmured.

With a casual gesture, time froze. The entire room locked into stillness. Rowan reached out and pointed toward the Barton couple.

"Alohomora."

Two pinpricks of light slipped into their bodies. Subtle changes took hold immediately. By weaving spatial authority into the spell, Rowan unlocked dormant limits within their genes. Even without ever touching the supernatural, their bodies would grow stronger, healthier, and far longer-lived.

A final gift to the parents of this borrowed body.

Then Rowan extracted two drops of blood from them and shaped life itself. A newborn appeared, identical to the child they had lost in every meaningful way. This infant would remain after Rowan departed, filling the void seamlessly.

To the Bartons, their child had never died. He had never vanished.

Time resumed.

Rowan’s figure blurred, thinning like mist in sunlight, until nothing remained.

Elsewhere, Adam felt it.

He had just finished smoothing out tomorrow’s plan with King Augustus III, Amon at his side, when his body stiffened.

"What is it?" Amon asked, habitually touching the monocle over his right eye. A sense of unease crept into him.

Adam’s expression shifted sharply. "Come with me."

They stepped through the astral realm and emerged above a small, isolated island.

"So that’s it," Adam said after a quick scan, exhaling slowly. "We forgot about him."

Amon frowned deeply. "Impossible. Who could have freed him? In that condition, even a true god would struggle. And none would be willing. The Night has not intervened either."

Adam glanced sideways. "You’re forgetting someone. Not a god, yet possessing power equal to one. And likely sharing the same origin as Roselle."

Amon froze. Understanding struck instantly.

"Him," Amon said. "Then tomorrow just became dangerous."

Adam let out a quiet, humorless laugh. "I’ve planned for decades. Looks like I’m the one who has to yield first."

He turned to Amon. "Take me to the Forsaken Lands."

Amon hesitated, fingers brushing the monocle again. "Are you sure?"

"Yes." Adam’s voice was steady. "If I don’t, you have no chance. Neither do I. My divinity has already sounded the alarm."

Though he stood at Sequence One, Adam was no ordinary being. He was a living manifestation of the Ancient Sun God’s divinity, the same existence that ended the Dark Era and nearly became God Himself. Coupled with the peculiar nature of his path, Adam’s sense of impending danger surpassed even that of true gods.

There was a reason the three traitor gods, despite hating and fearing him for centuries, had never managed to erase him.

Just moments ago, his divinity had issued a warning. Not a whisper of risk, but a signal of possible annihilation.

The source was obvious.

Tomorrow’s ritual, where Amon would replace King Augustus III and ascend, was the pivot point. Adam knew every hidden card the king possessed. None of them should have caused this level of threat.

Which left only two possibilities.

The first was the enigmatic Fool’s Angel, the one Adam could never fully decipher. If that being, rumored to possess power rivaling a true god, intervened, failure was possible. But even then, Adam was confident he could retreat with Amon intact. That scenario did not justify such an extreme warning.

The second possibility lay with the Black Emperor itself.

If Augustus III succeeded, it would signify the final death of the previous Black Emperor, Roselle. No return. No loopholes.

Roselle had once been a member of Adam’s own circle. Now he was sealed, corrupted by the Mother of Decay, trapped on this very island within the last imperial mausoleum. In theory, no one should have been able to free him. Not even Roselle’s daughter, the so-called mysterious queen, had that power.

Yet reality contradicted theory.

Roselle was gone.

Someone had freed him.

And given everything Adam and Amon knew, that someone could only be the Fool’s Angel. Every scrap of intelligence suggested that being originated either from beyond the Source Citadel or from the Sea of Chaos itself. Perhaps the earliest soul to awaken, dormant until now, explaining every anomaly surrounding him.

Otherwise, there was no explanation for how a mere Sequence Three could drive back true gods.

If Adam’s deductions were correct, then tomorrow the Fool’s Angel would ensure Roselle’s resurrection and return.

At that point, Adam and Amon would face two entities of true, absolute power at once. One stronger even than the True Creator. The outcome was inevitable.

That was the meaning of the warning.

And this time, divinity did not lie.