[Marvel's Hogwarts Professor] Chapter 686 - 690

Chapter 686: Divine Convergence

Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!

Deep within the true spirit space at the core of the god's soul, countless tangled threads of spiritual essence stretched in every direction. These true spirit threads intertwined with one another, forming an immense, complex, and mysterious spiritual imprint.

However, each thread was a chaotic mess of colors. The resulting spiritual imprint was equally disorderly—a jumbled tapestry of hues. The better threads contained only two or three colors, while the worst were a cacophony of seven or eight different shades.

From a distance, it might appear somewhat tolerable. But upon closer inspection, it was nothing short of visual pollution. No—it was worse than that. To approach too closely risked having your very being distorted.

The corruption caused by countless fallen sorcerers' twisted spirits had been fully integrated into the imprint. If one listened carefully, the agonized moans of these fallen sorcerers could be heard echoing from the depths of the True Spirit Mark.

Yet despite this corruption, the true spirit continued to gather. Though contaminated by other spiritual essences, the pollution also brought with it tremendous and ferocious power. Therefore, the True Spirit Mark, which had already endured two devastating blows, now faced a crucial opportunity for rebirth.

In other words, even knowing these sudden spiritual energies carried hidden dangers, Lockhart had no choice but to absorb and accept them. Now, the process was nearly complete.

What kind of deity would emerge from such a polluted genesis? Perhaps something akin to the legendary Cthulhu. After all, gods were gods once born, and what gods excelled at was creating dependent families.

Lockhart floated before the True Spirit Mark, contemplating the work he had created. It was time to end this—he had other business to attend to.

In his soul state, Lockhart flew into the center of the True Spirit Mark and closed his eyes.

In the next moment...

Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!

Countless colorful threads shot out like arrows in all directions, penetrating both the god's true spirit space and the True Spirit Mark itself.

Immediately, the colorful silk threads began to glow with prismatic light. As if guided by some spiritual intelligence, each thread slowly attached itself to a true spirit thread, entwining them together.

Almost every true spirit thread found itself paired with a corresponding colorful thread. Like twisted vines, they entangled with increasing tightness, as though seeking to either embed the true spirit threads within themselves or to devour them completely.

Observing any single true spirit thread closely revealed that as the colorful silk threads tightened their grip, the original variegated colors gradually faded away, as if being purified. But then, the now-pure white True Spirit Threads transformed again, taking on the brilliant hues of the colorful threads that had ensnared them.

As time passed, the originally chaotic, multi-colored silk threads and the entire True Spirit Mark gradually transformed into a harmonious spectrum of brilliant colors. The twisted, polluted aura they once emitted seemed to have been cleansed, almost completely disappearing.

In its place emerged something illusory and fantastical—reminiscent of the power of dreams.

Though his eyes remained closed, Lockhart was acutely aware of all the changes occurring around him. Sacrificing to the dream world had been his choice, but a sacrifice was just that—a sacrifice—not merely lighting candles in the dream world.

Naturally, he would use this opportunity to obtain corresponding benefits. Otherwise, wouldn't the sacrifice be in vain?

His target was, of course, the god he had been aiming for all along.

David, leader of the fallen sorcerers, had attempted to seize the unborn god and replace it. Other fallen sorcerers had tried to carve up the god's origins, while true souls sought to increase their chances of godhood. Even the two evil gods had attempted to control this deity, hoping to obtain a divine puppet.

But Lockhart wanted them all. He intended to refine the god into his own incarnation.

The dream world was his proudest achievement, one he'd invested tremendous energy and resources to research. After sacrificing to the dream world, his strength would inevitably diminish significantly.

In the supernatural world, weakness was akin to guilt. He needed an alternative method to increase his power.

And what better way to rapidly enhance one's strength than by acquiring a god's incarnation? With a newborn deity at his disposal—if manipulated correctly—he could command divine combat power for himself.

As his own protector.

Though he did not follow the path of the gods, this didn't mean he couldn't accept divine-related assets. Moreover, the dangers that lay ahead would only grow, and without godly strength, weathering them would prove difficult.

Furthermore, he had suspected—and the system had confirmed—that the path forward for a sorcerer lay among the gods. When the deity became his incarnation, he could better study and understand everything.

Buzz! Buzz! Buzz!

The pure power of dream origin continued to pour forth, and the massive dream consciousness accumulated in both worlds began assimilating the True Spirit Mark.

Purify! Cleanse! Assimilate!

Time passed minute by minute until finally, Lockhart opened his eyes and gazed at the enormous seven-colored True Spirit Mark before him.

With a deep breath, Lockhart's soul slowly floated to the center of the seven-colored mark, melding into its core like water into water.

In the next moment...

BOOM!

It was as though some form of completion had been achieved, or new life had sparked into being. Suddenly, the massive True Spirit Mark emitted dazzling, prismatic light.

The brilliant seven-colored radiance began spreading outward continuously, passing through the true spirit space and reaching the god's soul. Simultaneously, vast amounts of information emerged, flowing directly into Lockhart's mind.

The inherited memories of the gods!

In the outside world, those watching saw the nearby angel's soul begin to move. Faintly visible, colorful light emanated from its eyes and between its brows.

When Ian, Wanda, and Vera recognized this familiar sign, their hearts soared with elation.

Success!

The instructor had succeeded!!!

Witnessing the trembling god's soul, everyone present couldn't help but smile.

However...

Buzz!

The next moment, the trembling ceased, and the colorful light between the brows and in the eyes dimmed. Everything fell silent, as if returning to the beginning.

Everyone's spirits fell.

Then...

Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!

It seemed as though a gentle breeze had begun to blow. Before everyone's eyes, the once-massive and solid god's soul dissipated like smoke. With just a soft breath, it transformed into wisps of mist spreading throughout the surroundings.

In less than half a minute, under everyone's anxious gaze, the formerly enormous god's soul had completely dissolved into mist, slowly dissipating and drifting into the surrounding space.

The scene made everyone's hearts clench with worry.

Because this looked too much like failure!

But the next moment...

Whoosh!

A familiar transparent figure rose from below.

It was... Lockhart's soul.

Lockhart's soul flew rapidly toward Thor's location, where his physical body lay.

Buzz!

Like water blending with milk, the soul merged smoothly with the body.

The familiar sensation of touch, the magic flowing through his body, and the hard texture of the wand against his palm flooded his awareness.

Lockhart opened his eyes.

Then...

"Lockhart, tell me what's going on," Thor, the God of Thunder, demanded, his tone complex and tinged with indifference. "Don't forget the conditions you promised me."

Chapter 687: Aftermath and Celebrations

Thor's heart was a complicated mess of emotions.

He knew full well that Lockhart must be hiding something from him. The previous explanation had certainly not clarified matters completely. No one would have a favorable impression of such concealment—Thor, the God of Thunder, was no exception.

Yet he also understood there were reasons for withholding information. It was unrealistic to expect anyone to tell him everything without reservation. Even his father, even his mother, even his younger brother had their secrets.

Still, he felt a little angry, a little dissatisfied, a little... something else he couldn't quite name.

So Thor's heart remained troubled.

Opposite him, Lockhart opened his eyes for the first time since returning to his body and immediately recognized Thor's expression. He understood the reason behind it perfectly.

Faced with Thor's questioning, Lockhart stepped forward and gave the Thunder God a warm embrace.

"Don't worry, everything has been taken care of," he assured. "The gods are now completely under control. Whether they live, die, or continue to fall into eternal sleep—it doesn't matter. The arrangement can completely satisfy the God King's requirements."

He added with confidence, "As for the Supreme Sorcerer, I am absolutely certain I can persuade him. This time, I have no doubts."

And indeed, he was absolutely certain. By choosing to sacrifice the dream world, he had demonstrated his utmost sincerity. Gu Yi would naturally not dwell on this issue any longer.

After all, Kamar-Taj's apparent desire for the gods' death was merely a facade. What was truly essential was ensuring the future of Marvel's sorcerers would be nurtured among the gods—and Lockhart had made that choice.

Now that Lockhart had accomplished these two crucial objectives, what reason would the Supreme Sorcerer have to refuse?

However, when contemplating the gods, Lockhart couldn't help but purse his lips.

How to explain it? The gods were truly worthy of being a race born divine—their true birth came at the cost of a shattered planet. This was something Lockhart found utterly unacceptable.

If he truly dared to sacrifice the Earth of the Marvel world now, he was absolutely certain that Gu Yi would personally hunt him down and kill him without hesitation.

Therefore, the scene many Kamar-Taj sorcerers had witnessed moments ago repeated itself: the soul and true spirit transformed into mist, floating in the space between realms, continuing to fall into deep slumber. They would wait until a suitable opportunity arose before awakening.

Thor, having heard Lockhart's answer, showed an expression that was difficult to read—neither satisfied nor entirely displeased. He nodded, turned around, and called out loudly to the Asgardians behind him.

"Everyone prepare to return to Asgard!"

Then, raising Mjolnir high, he summoned the Rainbow Bridge. "Heimdall!"

Hearing this, Lockhart quietly relaxed his control over the world of gods, allowing the power of the Rainbow Bridge to enter. To do otherwise would have caused Thor further embarrassment, and as a friend, Lockhart would not permit such a thing to happen.

Soon...

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

Under everyone's watchful gaze, accompanied by a thunderous roar, a beam of colorful light descended with lightning speed. It penetrated the world of gods and fell directly upon Thor and all the Asgardians.

The Rainbow Bridge's prismatic light pillars exuded a majestic atmosphere, colorful energy constantly flowing through them.

Lockhart couldn't help but raise his eyebrows in appreciation. The Rainbow Bridge was indeed one of Asgard's strategic weapons, just as he had suspected. He clearly sensed how it penetrated the world of gods and impacted the divine entities there.

Fortunately, he had maintained conscious control over the situation. Otherwise, without preparation, the intrusion could have dealt him a serious blow.

Buzz!

In the blink of an eye, the colorful beam disappeared—or rather, it rapidly contracted upward. The contraction happened so quickly that it appeared to simply vanish.

Thor and all the Asgardians disappeared with it.

Watching the Asgardians depart, Lockhart couldn't help but rub his forehead, already developing a headache thinking about how to communicate with Thor the next time they met. After all, he had persuaded Thor to come here, but what had been the result? A full-scale war.

In the end, he'd tried to salvage what he could, though he wasn't certain how effective his efforts had been. It truly seemed as though fate had played a cruel joke on him.

"Tutor!"

"Teacher, have we won?"

"Master Lockhart, what happens now?"

Barely seconds after the Asgardians' departure, the surrounding sorcerers moved closer to Lockhart, voices overlapping in excitement and confusion. Some simply called out to him, while others sought to understand the current situation.

The chattering grew louder all around.

Lockhart didn't take it too seriously. He stretched out his hands and pressed them downward, signaling everyone to quiet down. Soon, the surroundings fell silent, and Lockhart spoke loudly:

"This mission has been successfully completed! Thank you for everyone's cooperation. No—without everyone working together, the mission would not have proceeded so smoothly."

His voice grew solemn. "The fallen sorcerers will be registered, and Kamar-Taj will provide appropriate compensation to their families, including but not limited to offering qualified children the opportunity to study magic."

Then, his tone lightened. "Tonight, I will host a celebration banquet in the World of All Things. Everyone is invited!"

"Yeah!"

"We won, we won!"

"Celebration banquet, celebration banquet..."

As soon as Lockhart finished speaking, everyone erupted into cheers.

Lockhart observed the crowd's jubilation quietly, a faint smile playing across his lips. He seemed genuinely pleased by this scene.

Despite planning in advance, he had managed to annihilate all the traitorous fallen sorcerers one after another. Yet the fallen sorcerers who had defected were all experienced battle mages or possessed special skills. Achieving a zero-casualty outcome had been virtually impossible.

Some sorcerers had died in the conflict. Fortunately, the sacrifices hadn't been too numerous. Overall, it was considered a tremendous victory.

The evil god's incarnation had been devoured, all the fallen sorcerers annihilated, and fewer than ten sorcerers sacrificed. Lockhart had essentially earned a near-perfect score of 99 points.

After the announcement, Lockhart waved to Ian and Wanda, calling them to his side. He asked them to lead the way back to the World of All Things, and at the same time, he greeted these comrades who had fought alongside him. After all, the battlefield was a shortcut to strengthening relationships.

Lockhart also explained to everyone that his mission was complete and he needed to report to the Supreme Sorcerer. He promised to share drinks with everyone at the evening's celebration banquet.

Late that night, in the World of All Things, the banquet hall lay strewn with leftovers. Robots moved back and forth, cleaning the mess. Other robots escorted thoroughly intoxicated sorcerers back to nearby rooms to rest.

The celebration had been extraordinarily lively, with everyone drinking and enjoying themselves immensely. Fresh from victory after a challenging war, spirits had been high. In such an atmosphere and on such an occasion, even Lockhart—who typically avoided excessive drinking—had consumed quite a lot. His face now showed unmistakable signs of intoxication.

Lockhart was currently attempting to sober up in a nearby tea room. He wasn't alone; Grindelwald sat across from him.

Looking at the unusually inebriated Lockhart, Grindelwald couldn't help but smile. It was rare to see Lockhart in such a state. Though uncertain what had transpired, Grindelwald had clearly sensed at the celebration that Lockhart was genuinely happy—happy enough to forgo any magical means of preventing intoxication. Otherwise, how could he possibly be drunk?

Nevertheless, there was something Grindelwald needed to ask.

"Lockhart, our deal is now completely settled," he said thoughtfully. "There's something I'd like to know about this... When are you planning to return to the wizarding world?"

Chapter 688: Revelations in the Tea Room

"When will you return to the wizarding world?"

Grindelwald's question jolted Lockhart out of his drunken state. With a snap of his right fingers, the lingering redness in his face faded back to his normal complexion. The haziness in his eyes cleared instantly.

It was certainly a good question—one that immediately brought Lockhart's thoughts to the system's test.

Now, he had only one chance to return to the wizarding world. The next time, unless he completed his mission, it would be impossible to go back to Harry Potter's world. Of course, if he failed the mission, Lockhart would likely find himself cast out entirely. There wouldn't be much possibility of even contemplating a return to the wizarding world.

Why!

Lockhart sighed inwardly. Although he usually didn't rely heavily on the system, its sudden complete shutdown had left him feeling somewhat stressed.

"Come on, come on," he replied casually to Grindelwald. "I'll go back to the wizarding world after I finish what I'm doing."

This was his final opportunity for interdimensional travel, and he needed to seize it to develop his powers properly. Otherwise, he genuinely doubted he could withstand the dangers that would come with future divine invasions.

Yes, in Lockhart's estimation, the most dangerous threat was naturally the hostility of the vast majority of gods in the Marvel universe. After all, what Lockhart intended to do essentially upended the foundation of the deity-believer system. He had already imagined the worst possible scenario and naturally needed to prepare for it.

Hearing Lockhart's answer, Grindelwald nodded slightly. He wasn't in any rush—he'd simply wanted to ask the question.

After all, the fallen sorcerers had been completely annihilated. His contract with Lockhart was finally fulfilled. Going forward, as long as he didn't violate certain taboo principles, he could act with relative freedom.

Having experienced this new world, seen its sorcerer system, and encountered actual gods, excitement had been building steadily within him.

After a moment, something else seemed to cross Grindelwald's mind.

"By the way, Lockhart," he inquired with curious amusement, "something good happened today, didn't it? I noticed you were drinking quite enthusiastically."

Something good!

It was indeed something good. A smile formed unconsciously on Lockhart's face—a comfortable, genuine expression of happiness. His thoughts drifted back to the Bamboo Forest Teahouse earlier that day...

Kamar-Taj, Bamboo Forest Tea Room

The Ancient One, Supreme Sorcerer, stood before the window, gazing quietly into the distance. From her vantage point, she could see the snow-white mountain peaks, diffuse clouds drifting between them, and sorcerer apprentices training in the courtyards below.

After some time had passed, something changed. The corners of the Ancient One's mouth lifted slightly, forming a smile that revealed both happiness and relief.

"Finally, we've come this far," she murmured. "I didn't misjudge this person! The endless future, the fate of Kamar-Taj... The seeds of transformation begin today!"

The Ancient One appeared genuinely happy—perhaps happier than she had been in the past thousand years, laughing with true freedom and delight.

She turned around, took a few steps, and approached the table. Looking at the tea leaves in the cup placed before her, she waved her hand. Instantly, the tea leaves were replaced by fine wine that had been treasured for thousands of years. The teacup transformed into a small drinking vessel carved from white jade.

She poured herself a modest serving, took a sip, and narrowed her eyes slightly, as if savoring the wine's exquisite qualities. Yet through this studied appreciation, her happiness remained evident.

One cup, two cups, three cups...

Soon, the Ancient One had consumed most of the bottle.

Suddenly, she seemed to sense something. With a casual wave of her hand, a paper crane materialized from thin air and flew out the window, apparently conveying some message.

Simultaneously, she ceased her drinking. With her right hand, she touched the top of the wine glass and bottle. They instantly transformed into points of light that quickly vanished, replaced by the tea leaves from before.

Within minutes, footsteps could be heard approaching.

Two figures entered the room one after another. The one following behind was none other than Lockhart.

"Harold, you may leave us," the Ancient One said calmly. "I wish to have a proper conversation with Lockhart."

Wizard Harold, who had escorted Lockhart into the room, nodded, slowly retreated, and departed from the tea room. As he left, he closed the door behind him, momentarily plunging the chamber into darkness.

But soon, the Ancient One made a casual gesture, her sleeve moving slightly, and natural light returned to the space. At the same time, the tea leaves before her had been brewed into tea, emitting a subtle fragrance.

"Lockhart, please sit and taste the tea I've just prepared," she invited. "This particular tea has been treasured for ages. It comes from a tea tree specifically cultivated for the position of Supreme Sorcerer of Kamar-Taj—nearly 3,000 years ago."

As she spoke of this, the Ancient One seemed somewhat nostalgic. She had lived longer than most sorcerers, after all.

Lockhart naturally and obediently sat cross-legged, and a cup of tea floated gracefully before him. The tea was light green, with a delicate fragrance and... a mysterious quality.

However, as Lockhart inhaled slightly, a strange expression flickered across his face.

Wait a moment.

He could actually detect the scent of alcohol.

The Supreme Sorcerer has been drinking!

This thought flashed through his mind as he lifted the teacup and took a sip. The tea was initially somewhat bitter, but this quickly transformed into sweetness. Its fragrance lingered on his lips and teeth, creating a lasting impression.

At the same time, Lockhart entered an ethereal state, almost entranced, as if his soul had undergone some form of purification.

After a while...

"Good tea! Good tea! Truly excellent tea!" Lockhart praised it three times.

It was indeed exceptional—not only in taste, but in its ability to cleanse one's heart and soul. The worries and concerns of the past seemed to be swept away. Not simply forgotten, but gently removed like dust, allowing one to approach problems with a healthier, more positive attitude.

"This tea tree has been with me for over 3,000 years," the Ancient One reminisced. "During that time, I've tried every method to extend its life." Then she added, "Since you appreciate it so much, I will gift you this tea tree."

Having said this, the Ancient One blinked and said with a hint of playfulness, "Lockhart, you must not let me die!"

Hearing this, Lockhart took her words seriously. He picked up the teacup again, drained it in one gulp, and declared firmly, as if making a solemn oath:

"Don't worry. As long as I live, this tea tree will never perish."

The Ancient One smiled at this and poured Lockhart another cup of tea. "No human life is bound to the tea tree," she said with gentle humor. "Only by living can there be hope!"

Her tone seemed filled with both relief and expectation.

Lockhart opened his mouth to respond, but the Ancient One interrupted him with a wave of her hand.

"Lockhart, I won't hide something from you any longer." Her voice grew solemn.

"I'm dying!"

Chapter 689: The Time Stone's Keeper

"I'm dying!"

The Ancient One's words hung in the air.

Lockhart's hand, still holding the teacup, froze momentarily before he slowly set it down on the table. There was no surprise or fear in his expression.

He knew. He had known for some time.

Yet he wasn't pretending now. He simply gazed calmly at the Ancient One sitting across from him.

"Master Supreme, where do you plan to go after your death?" Lockhart asked, his tone casual, as though discussing travel plans with an old friend. His voice was steady, tinged only with gentle curiosity.

The Ancient One studied Lockhart's composed face and broke into hearty laughter.

"Hahaha..."

Her laughter was so exuberant that she nearly slapped the table in delight. The sound seemed to fill every corner of the tea room.

Eventually, she suppressed her smile, though her tone remained relaxed and joyful.

"I've been waiting for this day for a long time," she admitted. "Every day in the past, each time I wished to leave, I was always held back by concern."

She paused, reflective. "After all, a mother who has raised her children for more than a decade puts her heart and soul into them. And I? I have been with Kamar-Taj for thousands of years."

The Ancient One's voice carried traces of emotion. Lockhart, for his part, didn't interrupt, simply listening patiently to what the ancient sorcerer had to say.

Yes, ancient indeed. Though she appeared youthful, she had lived for thousands of years. The weight of experience she carried was immeasurable.

"For most of these thousands of years, I have remained at Kamar-Taj," she continued. "Each time I look upon the sorcerer apprentices we've trained, I feel both reassured and saddened."

"Why?" Her tone fluctuated slightly, emotions momentarily agitated before she regained composure.

"I have witnessed and experienced life and death," she explained. "However, I cannot bear to treat my sorcerers like a harvest of wheat. They spend their lives guarding world peace. This pleases me greatly."

Her voice grew heavier. "But it's difficult for me to accept that they cannot rest in peace after they die. This isn't something that's happened once or twice. Not hundreds or thousands of times. This has been our reality for thousands of years!"

By this point, the Ancient One's tone had grown somber and serious.

Lockhart spoke to comfort her: "Don't worry, Master Supreme. Everything will change for the better. At least I can ensure that while I'm alive."

His words carried firm conviction, like a solemn vow.

Though neither directly addressed the future of sorcerers, their entire conversation circled this topic. They understood each other perfectly.

"Lockhart, you are exceptionally intelligent and talented," the Ancient One praised. "However, throughout Kamar-Taj's history, similarly brilliant and gifted sorcerers emerge every few centuries. Do you know why I've taken a particular liking to you?"

Lockhart shook his head, curious.

The Ancient One's right hand moved gently toward her neck, and the Eye of Agamotto slowly floated forward. As the bronze shell with its eye-like surface gradually rotated, green light emanated from within. A green gem exuding a strange aura was revealed.

"This is the Eye of Agamotto, also known as the Time Stone," she said softly, her gaze fixed on Lockhart's eyes. "It possesses the ability to observe the future."

"As Supreme Sorcerer, with the Eye of Agamotto, I can peer into both future and past. Everything that has occurred is like a blank page in a book, available for reference at any moment. All that will come to pass is like the lines on my palm, visible without end."

She paused, letting her words sink in. "Lockhart, tell me, is Kamar-Taj, possessor of such treasures, not inherently invincible?"

"Of course," Lockhart nodded slightly, echoing her implied meaning.

"However," she continued, "in the almost infinite future I've observed, I cannot find a path forward for Kamar-Taj. Either it perishes, declines, or remains as it is now—becoming bloody wheat awaiting harvest."

The Ancient One's tone carried a hint of sadness. Lockhart remained silent. He seemed to understand why.

"Without hope, one feels only despair," she said, but then her tone shifted. "However, I recently discovered something quite intriguing. In this endless future I've observed, I don't see you."

The Ancient One watched Lockhart's expression with great interest.

Upon hearing this, Lockhart's face registered recognition of this truth. He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could utter a word, the Ancient One interrupted him.

"Lockhart, everyone harbors their own secrets, myself included. I don't seek to learn your reasons. However, I deeply hope that your presence will bring a new future to Kamar-Taj."

She seemed momentarily emotional. "I sometimes wonder if the ability to see through time is actually a curse. Everything I've foreseen, without exception, leads to an end. I hope you might somehow be different."

Though she didn't state it explicitly, her meaning was clear.

After a moment of silence, Lockhart returned to his original question. "So, Master Supreme, where are you going?"

This issue held great importance to him.

Hearing this, the Ancient One smiled knowingly, as though she understood precisely what Lockhart was thinking.

"I signed a contract long ago, and now the time has come to fulfill it," she replied. "I'm afraid I won't be able to assist you any further."

Her words caused Lockhart to frown.

"Is there truly no help you can offer?" he pressed.

Dumping this enormous mess entirely on me—she must think very little of my abilities.

In response, the Ancient One's fingertips touched the Eye of Agamotto floating before her and pushed it gently. The mystical artifact slowly drifted toward Lockhart.

"The Eye of Agamotto—this is the final gift I leave to you," she said. "As for the help you seek, I fear I am powerless to provide it."

Lockhart could only sigh.

However, immediately afterward, the Ancient One reached out and reclaimed the Eye of Agamotto, a meaningful smile playing across her lips.

"Of course, I cannot help you after I'm gone. After all, I'll be dead," she stated matter-of-factly. "But while I live, different calculations apply. After all, I am the Supreme Sorcerer of Kamar-Taj. Ordinary sorcerers may die in battle, but I cannot simply fade away quietly."

Hearing this, Lockhart was visibly shocked. His eyes reflected complex emotions, including a trace of guilt. He opened his mouth to speak, but found himself at a loss for words.

He understood perfectly what the Ancient One was suggesting.

However, did this count as giving the Ancient One...?

"Lockhart, don't overthink this," the Ancient One said calmly. "Going forward, Kamar-Taj will be entrusted to you. Do not disappoint me."

Upon hearing these words, Lockhart stood up. Taking a step back, he bowed deeply to the Supreme Sorcerer.

Rising from his bow, he spoke with deliberate precision.

"I, Gilderoy Lockhart, will never betray your trust!"

Chapter 690: Visitors to Hell

Mephisto's Hellish Domain!

Hell was a rather vague concept—less a singular dimension and more an entire faction. A complete Hell was formed by multiple evil god dimensions related to the infernal realms. Within Hell, betrayal, killing, and conflict were eternal themes.

As a well-known evil god of Hell, Mephisto naturally occupied an important position within the greater infernal coalition. But Hell lacked a unified leader to serve as the core binding force of their faction. If the fundamental interests of Hell weren't threatened, most of its denizens remained scattered and uncoordinated.

Of course, everyone aspired to claim this leadership role. Everyone wanted to be the true King of Hell. Mephisto certainly harbored such ambitions, as did other powerful evil gods like Satan, Lucifer, Mammon, Bell, and others who ranked among Hell's elite.

But at this moment, Mephisto had no interest in contemplating the title of Hell's King. His current condition was far from optimal.

In his palace at the domain's core, Mephisto burned with black and purple flames, manifesting his rage. Yet this anger also revealed his helplessness.

Damn it! His avatar had disappeared again, and once more, no crucial information had been transmitted back to him.

There was one thing he understood with certainty, however: the disappearance of his Incarnation was definitely connected to Lockhart.

He desperately wanted to know who would become the God of Heaven. Would it be the Supreme Sorcerer of Kamar-Taj? The God-King Odin of Asgard? The mysterious Lockhart? Or perhaps... Dormammu!

The memories he'd received ended precisely when his incarnation truly entered the world of gods. The divine realm itself maintained a powerful shield, making his connection with his incarnation intermittent at best. The closer one approached the core of the gods' world, the more difficult communication became.

Therefore, Mephisto remained unaware that Lockhart and Thor had joined forces. Yet with his vast experience, such a possibility had crossed his mind. He preferred not to dwell on such thoughts at present, however.

He merely wanted to vent his anger.

The disappearance of his incarnation meant a further loss of gathered intelligence. He had already been seriously wounded in an attack by the Ancient One, yet before he could fully recover, he'd been forced to endure another silent defeat.

Anyone would feel uncomfortable in such circumstances!

Mephisto was exceedingly uncomfortable right now, and naturally, he couldn't contain his need to release this frustration. Killing a few demons to vent his inner rage was perfectly normal behavior. After all, in Hell, low-level demons were like weeds—found everywhere and easily disposable.

After casually strangling several eyeless demons, Mephisto suddenly sensed a familiar aura approaching. He immediately halted his activities and waited quietly.

Soon, a familiar figure appeared, and a cold voice reached his ears.

"Mephisto!" Dormammu's voice resonated through the chamber.

Indeed, this was Dormammu's incarnation. His current situation appeared no better than Mephisto's own.

"Mephisto," Dormammu continued, "I won't waste time asking what exactly transpired in the world of gods. But don't forget—you made me promises!"

Dormammu had originally intended to avoid Earth-related matters, at least for the time being. After all, he had recently suffered a devastating defeat at the hands of the Ancient One. He needed time to recover before engaging again.

This was the custom established over thousands of years of conflict with Kamar-Taj. After each war came a period of rest—a time of peace for both sides.

But this time, Mephisto had personally sought him out, not only with persuasion but with treasures, inviting him to join the venture. Most importantly, Mephisto had used Lockhart's existence as bait. Ultimately, they had signed a contract, and the two evil gods had descended upon Earth.

Now, however, it was clear that matters had not proceeded as planned. Mephisto's incarnation was dead, and judging from Dormammu's tone, his incarnation had likely met a similar fate.

So now, Dormammu had come to collect what he was owed.

Mephisto felt a deep headache forming, but he still approached with a smile plastered across his face to greet Dormammu. Having endured multiple attacks recently, his position was somewhat precarious.

After all, there could only be one King of Hell, and if potential enemies could be eliminated, no one would refuse such an opportunity. Therefore, he needed to secure an ally to help him through this period of weakness.

With this in mind, Mephisto quickly invited Dormammu to sit with him.

"Don't worry, Dormammu, I will absolutely fulfill my promises to you," Mephisto vowed.

Then, attempting to change the subject, he added, "Incidentally, I received no real-time updates from my incarnation. What information did you manage to obtain?"

Faced with Mephisto's question, Dormammu's expression darkened. His situation mirrored Mephisto's—the death of an incarnation meant losing a portion of his original power. He had arrived early to prepare, seeking either an explanation or compensation for his losses.

Seeing Dormammu's expression, Mephisto did not press further. He wasn't a fool. In his weakened state, making enemies would be unwise.

Changing tack, he said, "This time, we both suffered significant losses. I've attempted to contact the fallen sorcerers on Earth but have received no reply. I fear their situation may be equally dire."

In response, Dormammu merely nodded and continued to stare fixedly at Mephisto. They were both ancient foxes of thousands of years—there was no point in meaningless chatter. If Mephisto wished for a productive conversation, he would first need to produce the original power and dark weapon he had previously mentioned.

Mephisto disagreed with this silent demand and continued to paint enticing pictures: "However, I doubt Kamar-Taj gained much advantage either. Earth remains intact, which suggests the God has not yet fully manifested. Future opportunities await us."

Dormammu didn't reply, merely staring at Mephisto quietly, as if watching him perform circus tricks. This left Mephisto somewhat helpless, though he understood the reaction. Nevertheless, he truly had no intention of relinquishing his original power at present—after all, his own reserves were critically low.

"Dormammu, I will absolutely fulfill my earlier promises," Mephisto insisted. "But—"

Before he could finish, Mephisto's expression suddenly transformed with shock.

At the same time...

BOOM!

High in the distant skies of Hell's domain, an enormous void rift suddenly appeared. Visible to the naked eye, numerous black threads materialized in the space surrounding the rift—signs of spatial fractures indicating that the nearby dimensions could not withstand such tremendous pressure.

Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!

Strong winds began to blow, with the faint tendency to form a tempest all around.

In the next moment, not far from the void rift, the figures of Mephisto and Dormammu suddenly materialized. They stared at the spatial tear before them—or rather, at the two figures standing in front of it.

Mephisto's face contorted with extreme displeasure.

"Ancient One," he snarled, "what brings you to trespass upon my territory today?"