Marvel's master of cosmic magic

Chapter 536

"Thanks, Uncle Rowan!"

With Rowan Mercer’s quiet guidance, Vi and Powder learned how to dismiss the conjured gauntlet and heavy gun, watching them dissolve back into nothing as if they had never existed. The awkwardness in their voices faded fast. The gift was too perfect, too precisely aimed at their hearts. At that point, even calling him "Dad" would not have felt excessive.

Vander finally spoke, unable to hold it in any longer.

"Rowan... are you a mage?"

What Rowan had shown moments earlier did not belong to tricks, gadgets, or brute force. Only one explanation fit.

Rowan looked past the shattered wall, up at the open sky, and sighed as if weighing how much truth the world could handle.

"I lied to you at first," he said calmly. "I grew up an orphan in Demacia. I learned magic by accident. Everyone there knows how dangerous magic is. I pushed too far, and my body paid the price. I stopped aging. This is not a child’s body. I’m well past thirty."

Vander froze.

"Demacia hunts mages," Rowan continued. "So I left. I’ve been moving from place to place ever since, looking for knowledge that might undo the damage. Piltover drew my attention because trade brings secrets with it. Black markets especially. I thought I might find something here."

Vander exhaled slowly. Everything clicked into place. The maturity. The restraint. The terrifying competence hiding behind a boy’s face.

"That explains it," he muttered.

Then his expression hardened with resolve.

"You’re safe here. As prince of New Zaun, you can research magic openly. No one will stop you. Piltover trades in everything. Once the old restrictions are gone, magical texts and artifacts will flow in whether the council likes it or not. If there’s a way to restore yourself, this city gives you the best odds."

Rowan turned back, genuinely surprised. Then he smiled.

"Then I’ll protect this city," he said. "I’ll treat it as my second home."

It was exactly the balance he wanted. Piltover offered him access, anonymity, and trade. In return, it gained a guardian no conventional army could threaten. While nations bled each other dry in pointless wars, Rowan would quietly study the deeper rules of this world. When Piltover had nothing left to teach him, he would seek out greater beings and ask harder questions.

He raised a hand.

The broken wall reassembled itself stone by stone, dust retreating as if ashamed of the damage it had done.

Vander stared, openly impressed.

"One more thing," Rowan said. "That blue crystal I saw earlier. It contained structured magic. I want to meet the person who made it."

Three days later, at the Piltover Academy.

"You made the crystal?"

Rowan sat comfortably in a chair, smiling as Jayce Talis was escorted in by New Zaun guards.

Jayce nodded stiffly.

"Yes, Your Highness."

He did not trust the harmless appearance for a second. He had seen Rowan lead the Undercity straight through Piltover’s enforcers and into the council chamber like a storm through paper. Now this same boy stood just below the king in authority. A word from him could end a life. Many already had.

"Good," Rowan said. "I like your work. Using technology to restrain magic instead of worshipping it is the right instinct. Do you want to keep going?"

Rowan rose and walked closer.

Hextech was more than innovation. It was another language of magic. And understanding it would help him decipher the deeper structure embedded in the crystal’s rune.

Jayce’s breath caught.

"You’d support my research?"

"The academy wouldn’t," Rowan said flatly. "I will."

Hope cracked through Jayce’s fear. Only days earlier, he had been stripped of his funding after the explosion. Professor Heimerdinger believed magic was too dangerous to be handled by machines.

"I’ve also found you a partner," Rowan added.

He clapped once.

The guards ushered in a thin young man with a cane. His eyes were sharp but uncertain.

"I didn’t oppose New Zaun," Viktor said quickly. "I’m only a teaching assistant."

"I know," Rowan replied. "You’re here because you think differently."

He gestured toward Jayce.

"He’s building a future where magic serves people instead of destroying them. I want you to help him."

Viktor turned to Jayce, recognition flashing across his face.

"You," he said softly. "From the hearing."

Jayce nodded.

Viktor had meant to seek him out after that day. Events had moved too fast.

Rowan studied Viktor for a moment longer.

"You have a degenerative condition," he said. "It will slow your work."

Before Viktor could react, Rowan placed a hand on his head. A warm red glow spread, precise and controlled. Pain vanished. Stiffness dissolved. The cane slipped from Viktor’s fingers and hit the floor.

Silence followed.

Rowan withdrew his hand.

"Now," he said lightly, "let’s build something worth remembering."