Marvel's master of cosmic magic

Chapter 562

"Since I’m in a good mood today, I’ll give you one more chance. Leave. Now."

Rowan Mercer lowered his hand after finishing his psychic scan. The forbidden mind-binding incantation he’d just extracted was more valuable than any of the attackers’ lives. Under normal circumstances, anyone foolish enough to strike at him would already be dead. But today, profit outweighed irritation.

The spell worked poorly against those who were content and mentally grounded. But ambition, greed, obsession, hunger for power... those were perfect fuel. The stronger the desire, the easier it was to drag a mind into illusion.

"Die!"

A massive figure dropped from above, spewing a torrent of highly corrosive sludge toward Rowan. The remaining attackers saw opportunity and surged forward together.

Rowan didn’t move.

Lightning exploded outward from his body like a newborn storm. The sludge vaporized midair. Blinding arcs of electricity swallowed the attackers whole.

Less than a second later, six of the eight were reduced to smoking ash.

Victor Hargrove, whose enhanced body had been engineered for extreme durability, lasted barely a second longer. The golden reinforcement beneath his skin fractured under the electrical surge. He collapsed, dead before he hit the ground.

The longest survivor was the sludge-spewing brute.

Before the lightning fully carbonized him, he lunged, grabbing Hargrove’s corpse. A distorted absorption field ignited around him, devouring the body entirely. His burnt flesh rapidly regenerated, barely allowing him to escape the lightning’s radius.

"Caleb... why?"

Elias Voss staggered forward, freshly freed from the illusion spell and using the Sixfold Devourer Art to purge poison and rebuild damaged tissue. Disbelief filled his voice.

In his memory, Caleb Ward had always been a harmless freeloader. Easy to get along with. Weak. Someone Elias had taught the Devourer Art to out of pity, afraid he’d starve on the island.

By Elias’s estimation, Caleb should have only learned enough to survive.

But what he’d just seen... Caleb’s output was only slightly below his own. And the technique’s refinement level was terrifyingly high.

More importantly, Caleb had coordinated with the attackers.

And then there was the worst truth.

He had eaten human flesh.

Not hesitantly. Not desperately. But with experience. With familiarity.

Of course. Without feeding on awakened humans, it would be impossible to reach this level in under three years. Elias himself had spent seventy years perfecting the art he created.

"Seventeen... you still don’t get it?" Caleb said calmly, stepping out of the smoke. "Becoming your friend. Learning your weaknesses. That was always my mission here. These people? I called them."

He glanced toward Rowan.

"I didn’t expect interference. But that’s fine. I’ll eat him first. Then we can talk properly."

Caleb had spent three years on the island. He had no idea who Rowan Mercer was.

The lightning had nearly killed him, yes. But the Sixfold Devourer Art granted monstrous regenerative capacity. If he dragged the fight out long enough, he believed he could win through endurance alone.

And if Rowan fell, Elias would be easy to manipulate. Caleb knew every psychological weak point.

Caleb pushed the Devourer Art to maximum output. A wave of devouring life-force energy spread outward from his body. Everything it touched withered into black dust.

Rowan simply smiled.

"So you like feeding that much? Fine. Eat."

He reached forward, plunging his hand directly into the devouring field.

Then he did the unthinkable.

He fed it.

A tidal wave of pure, impossibly dense life energy poured from Rowan into Caleb’s absorption field.

Caleb’s eyes widened in ecstasy.

"I have never tasted energy this perfect..."

The Devourer Art strengthened differently depending on what was consumed. Plants were nearly useless. Animals were better. Humans were optimal. Awakened humans were exquisite.

Caleb had never hunted at the island’s market district for food.

He hunted for prey.

Nason Island held three major power zones. The ancient native clans who worshipped the World Tree. The neutral northern trade settlement full of drifters and criminals. And the southern criminal enclave known as Paradise, ruled by a former American awakened tyrant.

The natives were untouchable. The Paradise faction was too dangerous.

The market was perfect.

Strong and weak targets mixed together. Violence was routine. Bodies disappeared daily.

That was how Caleb had risen this far, this fast.

But Rowan’s life force...

It was like injecting liquid divinity.

Caleb kept absorbing. Faster. Harder. Greed devoured reason.

Normally, prior mental stabilization therapy would have kept him rational. But Rowan’s energy overloaded every safeguard. The Devourer Art’s hunger overwhelmed his mind.

His body began to swell.

Even at full output, his technique couldn’t process this volume of life force.

Instinct screamed at him to stop.

Hunger screamed louder.

And Rowan kept feeding him.

"I... I need more... more... I—"

Caleb’s body expanded grotesquely.

Then ruptured.

The explosion was like a missile detonation.

Elias stood frozen in shock, staring at the smoking crater where Caleb Ward had existed seconds ago.