Marvel's master of cosmic magic

Chapter 498



Chapter 498

"You have to protect the people below," Voldemort’s voice boomed through the smoke. "How do you plan to fight me like that?"

A thunderous crack split the sky.

The black dragon’s flames smashed into Rowan Mercer and hurled his colossal body down into Oxford Street. Buildings collapsed beneath him like cardboard, sending up clouds of dust and glass.

Thankfully, the area had already been cleared.

Scrimgeour and the Aurors had forced civilians into neighboring districts minutes earlier.

"Minister!"

Several Aurors clenched their fists as Rowan lay half-buried in rubble.

From where they stood, it was obvious the radiant giant was not weaker than Voldemort’s dragon form. If anything, Rowan had been gaining the upper hand.

But Voldemort fought like a viper.

Every time he started losing ground, he turned his attacks toward the city instead.

And every time he did, Rowan threw himself into the path of destruction.

Again and again.

His massive body shielded collapsing streets, firestorms, and falling debris.

Each time, he took the damage meant for thousands of others.

Now his movements were slower.

His glow flickered.

"Get up..." someone whispered.

Across London, Muggles stared at their screens and prayed.

They didn’t understand magic or politics, but they understood this much.

The dragon wanted to burn their city down.

The giant was trying to save it.

"Voldemort," Rowan growled, forcing himself upright. "This ends now."

He brought his hands together.

Lightning exploded across his body.

A pillar of white-blue thunder tore upward into the clouds and slammed into the dragon.

Voldemort shrieked.

The dragon convulsed midair and detonated into smoke and scales, collapsing back into human form.

"You win this round, Rowan Mercer," Voldemort roared, his voice shaking the sky. "But I will never stop. I will lead wizards to rule Muggles. They will kneel, or they will burn."

With that, he vanished.

Rowan’s giant form began to shrink.

His glow dimmed.

He swayed.

Scrimgeour and the Aurors caught him just before he hit the ground.

"Minister, stay with us!"

Rowan’s breathing was shallow.

"I’m badly hurt," he said weakly. "That last spell damaged my core. I need time. I’ll be unconscious for a while."

He grabbed Scrimgeour’s sleeve.

"Don’t tell anyone how serious it is. If Voldemort thinks I’m still standing, he won’t make a move. He’s injured too."

His eyes rolled back.

Rowan went limp.

From that moment on, the hero of London entered a long, carefully staged coma.

The world believed he had barely survived.

And Voldemort believed he had finally found a limit.

While Rowan lay hidden away, Voldemort would take the Death Eaters abroad, stirring chaos in other countries, recruiting extremists, and provoking governments.

Wizard–Muggle tensions would explode.

When the world reached the brink...

Rowan Mercer would rise again.

Elsewhere.

Far from London.

In another universe entirely.

Inside the floating island of the Superhuman Academy, Rowan stood before a wall of arcane formulas and psychic matrices.

"Love magic," he murmured. "It really does resemble Rakade’s desire-based sorcery."

The Department of Mysteries’ research had barely scratched the surface.

But the structure of the spell wasn’t just emotional manipulation.

It wasn’t even purely mental magic.

It was closer to a fundamental law.

Something closer to sin-based divine principles.

If fully understood, a single branch of it could rival demon-god–level power.

He was deep in thought when a familiar voice echoed in his mind.

"Rowan," Professor Xavier said urgently. "We have a problem at the school. You need to come now."

Rowan frowned.

Xavier knew better than to interrupt him unless it was critical.

Moments later, Rowan appeared inside the academy’s main conference hall.

Every senior instructor was present.

Xavier pointed at several bodies on the floor, dressed in unfamiliar tactical uniforms.

"Logan is missing," he said grimly. "And the surveillance footage is... disturbing."

Five minutes later, Rowan understood everything.

Steve Rogers had gone to check on Logan and found several strangers inside his room, disposing of bodies.

They dragged corpses into a glowing portal.

When Steve confronted them, they attacked.

They fought like elite special forces.

But Steve overpowered them.

One of their metal batons misfired during the fight and erased one of their own men from existence.

Realizing they were outmatched, the remaining intruders jumped into the portal and vanished.

They left behind bodies.

And weapons.

The surveillance footage showed it clearly.

A red-suited man carrying two swords had appeared first.

Then a squad of uniformed operatives followed him through the portal.

All of them entered Logan’s room.

Rowan’s eyes narrowed.

"Deadpool," he muttered.


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