Marvel's master of cosmic magic-Chapter 809

Rowan Mercer was still weighing which path would get him to godhood faster when he suddenly looked up.

"War?"

The answer came immediately.

Air-raid sirens tore through Backlund’s skyline.

From the northern horizon, massive airships surged forward in tight formation. Their hulls were painted dark brown, emblazoned with diagonal stripes of red, white, and yellow.

The flag of the Feysac Empire.

The moment they crossed into the city’s airspace, violent winds roared upward.

Members of the Church of Storms struck first.

Blades of compressed air and arcs of lightning hammered the incoming fleet.

But translucent barriers shimmered into existence around the airships, absorbing the assault.

Then the hulls opened.

Cannons.

Machine gun ports.

Bomb bays.

Metal screamed as munitions poured downward.

The northern districts of Backlund hadn’t even finished comprehending what was happening.

If those shells landed, the streets would become slaughterfields.

Fathers.

Mothers.

Children.

Erased in seconds.

A voice thundered across the sky.

"Time. Stop."

Every shell froze.

Every bullet hung motionless.

The city looked up.

A solitary figure hovered above the rooftops.

Dark coat.

Calm eyes.

A familiar presence.

"It’s him!"

"The angel of the Fool!"

"Praise the Fool!"

Rowan had appeared once before during the great smog disaster. Thousands remembered the figure who had healed them.

In the airships, a furious howl erupted.

A pulse of power like rusted iron and spilled blood detonated outward.

Emerald fireballs streaked toward Rowan from every direction.

Rowan recognized the signature immediately.

A war-priest.

A commander who grew stronger the more soldiers fought beneath his banner.

"Cute."

Rowan opened his mouth.

The fire vanished into nothingness.

He swept his hand sideways.

A colossal cyclone formed, slamming into the fleet and forcibly hurling the airships out of Backlund’s airspace.

Rowan’s voice carried across the city.

"War brings only loss."

"The Church of the Fool does not glorify it."

Then he vanished.

He could have annihilated the entire fleet.

He chose not to.

The Night Goddess needed the God of War to believe she stood alone.

If the Fool appeared openly allied with her, the trap would collapse.

And beyond that...

The seven gods still served a purpose.

They sealed cracks in the world’s outer barrier.

If they fell too soon, things far worse than gods would start slipping through.

Rowan was not ready to fight those yet.

Not alone.

Soon.

But not yet.

By noon, the Loen royal family formally declared war on the Feysac Empire.

The age of peace ended.

Rowan, meanwhile, turned back to preparation.

After careful consideration, he chose the simpler route.

Free the being bound to the Door path.

Use that path’s rite.

Ascending through Error would be more troublesome.

Aurelion had too many avatars.

And Adrian Crowe stood behind him.

Finding and trapping the real Aurelion would take time.

Releasing the Door-bound entity was easier.

Traditional methods required massive sacrifices and elaborate symbols.

Rowan ignored them.

He had a shortcut.

The Night Goddess.

High above the world’s surface, beyond the outermost barrier, Rowan extended a thread of consciousness toward a vast, black sphere.

A realm of endless dusk.

"Lady Eleanor," Rowan said calmly. "I want to discuss something."

A massive dark gate opened.

Rowan stepped through.

From the outside, the realm appeared no larger than a hundred meters.

Inside, it was an entire universe of night.

The Night Goddess appeared beside him.

"George III will give his prewar address in one week," she said. "He intends to use it to step onto the Black Emperor’s throne."

Then her gaze lingered on Rowan.

A flicker of disbelief passed through her eyes.

"You’ve advanced again."

Rowan nodded.

"I need a favor."

She studied him for several seconds.

"What is it?"

"Release the one sealed behind darkness and storm."

"I plan to switch paths. The Fool’s rite is too convoluted."

Silence followed.

Freeing that entity was dangerous.

It carried corruption from an outer horror.

If it ascended successfully, disaster was possible.

But Rowan...

He was no longer someone ordinary gods could restrain.

Even if that being became a true god, it might still lose to Rowan.

The Night Goddess closed her eyes.

Considering.