Chapter 29: A Precautionary Measure

Inside a Byzantine-style church, not a soul was present.

Easterners find it difficult to comprehend the immersive religious faith of Western believers.

For many worshippers, the church represents their final comfort and sanctuary.

"No! You must not enter, you are desecrating—ah!" The priest who attempted to block a group of mysterious intruders found himself decapitated in an instant.

Stepping over the blood that spurted from the priest's severed neck onto the floor, Kaecilius and his followers, the Fallen, slowly entered the church.

One of his arms was tightly bound, yet the fervor in his expression showed no sign of fading.

Earlier, he had stolen several pages from the forbidden library of the Ancient One, pages from the "Book of Cagliostro."

The most crucial among them depicted a wicked ritual: a link to the dark universe, a summoning of the Dark Lord Dormammu.

Kaecilius raised both hands, extending his index and little fingers to form a spellcasting gesture. His fingers traced a blood-red horizontal line in the air, then a slash, followed by a hook, and a symbol much like a protruding 'pi' appeared.

It was the emblem of the Dark Lord Dormammu!

The atmosphere trembled; the air thickened with a sinister aura.

The dark power grew, surged, and climbed ever higher.

Like a song ascending octave after octave, or mountains rising higher than the last, the escalating power brought joy to the faces of several Fallen followers.

But just as the pleasure from the darkness was about to fill their hearts, disaster struck.

"Ugh!" Kaecilius' head tightened, as if a magical restraint had been placed upon him, the sensation of his mind struck hard causing him to vomit a mouthful of black blood.

"What... what's happening?" The Fallen stared, stunned, at their leader.

"Damn it! Something—some force is preventing me from contacting my master. Damn! It's that cursed robot's power!"

"That should be a cyborg," one underling reminded him.

"Shut up! Anyway, once my master arrives, he’ll be the first to die!"

Kaecilius guessed correctly. Because of someone's actions, the Avengers' Vision had been drawn to the scene.

The gem embedded in Vision's forehead was the Mind Stone, one of the Infinity Stones.

The spiritual power from Vision, amplified by the Mind Stone, became shackles that tightly bound Kaecilius.

Physical harm alone—even losing both arms—might not have fazed Kaecilius. But this lingering mental force, destroying his spellcasting intent, left him coughing up blood.

Until the power left by Vision was dispelled, Kaecilius could not stir any further trouble.

Meanwhile, Meimu had no idea that he had earned three points of fate deviation in such a manner.

At this moment, within the sanctuary of Kamar-Taj, the Ancient One listened to a report, her brows furrowed.

"Send word to strengthen the vigilance of the three sanctums."

"Yes!" Master Hamir nodded and left to carry out the order.

With her duties finished, the Ancient One summoned Mordo.

"Hello, Master Mordo."

"Greetings, Sorcerer Supreme!" Mordo bowed respectfully.

"I hear Meimu's progress in his studies has been swift lately?"

Mordo recounted Meimu’s situation, and the Ancient One’s face displayed a mix of amusement and exasperation. "He’s truly learning so quickly?"

"Master, he wouldn't deceive us."

"Yes, I know. His memory is remarkable."

"Remembering is one thing; applying is quite another," Mordo muttered.

"Alright. I’ve been busy lately. Please keep an eye on Meimu for me. He’s talented, though his aptitude for magic seems unconventional—but I don’t want him to become another..."

She left the name unspoken, but it was obvious: Kaecilius.

"As you wish," Mordo replied, understanding her intent, and withdrew.

He went to Meimu’s room and found the young man playing a game.

"What’s this..." Mordo’s eyelid twitched.

"I’ve already finished reading every book I could. Isn’t it fair to play a game during my break? You all say Kamar-Taj isn’t meant to raise primitives, after all..." As he spoke, Meimu’s attention was drawn to an airplane flying outside Kathmandu. "Ah, a plane!"

Turning his head, Meimu seemed to notice Mordo just then. "Uh, you’re here—where were we?"

"What game is this?" Mordo asked, somewhat exasperated, pointing at Meimu’s high-end computer.

"NVIDIA quad-Titan X graphics cards—each card only $1,200, the whole computer less than ten thousand, very cheap!" Meimu rambled, stunning Mordo with his extravagant tone.

Mordo ignored the answer, instead focusing on the game character Meimu controlled.

It was a figure clearly not meant to be a hero: a decayed body, ruined face, pale bones visible at the elbow.

The character Meimu played was unmistakably undead.

Mordo felt immediate discomfort. Still, since it was just a game, he didn’t stop Meimu, but said, "Go ahead, I’ll just watch."

As he saw Meimu controlling a class called "Death Knight," summoning hordes of fearsome ghouls to overwhelm demonic enemies, Mordo felt an inexplicable unease.

Logically, those who wielded the power of darkness should be evil. Yet the Death Knight was vanquishing even more sinister, terrifying demons—this contradiction unsettled Mordo.

"Hey! Are you venting negative emotions through gaming? As your senior, I must remind you: play as you wish, but attempting to use dark power in reality is dangerously risky. It can incite inner demons, which will devour your soul."

Mordo offered his advice kindly.

He didn’t realize that, on the side of his face Mordo couldn’t see, Meimu wore a playful smile: Ah, he’s taken the bait.

Meimu spread his palm. "Hey! Mordo, have you ever looked into this game? It features undead knights wielding the power of death; warlocks who summon and enslave demons for strength; even demon hunters who seal demonic power within themselves to fight back against evil. And they’ve accomplished feats greater than the most devout paladins."

"Impossible! Wait, what game is this?"

"This is called 'Warcraft,' developed by a friend of mine named 'Professional Book-Eater Who Eats His Words and Glass Shards.'" Meimu shrugged.

He didn’t know why, but somehow the Marvel world lacked a game called Warcraft. Perhaps this universe rejected Blizzard’s copyright.

Nonetheless, that didn’t stop Meimu from using games to subtly influence Mordo.