Marvel's master of cosmic magic

Chapter 569

"I accept."

Mila Moore did not hesitate. She dropped to one knee and swore her oath, becoming a Royal Sentinel once more.

For her, the title didn’t matter. King or Sentinel, the goal was the same. Protect Natson Island. Protect the Sacred Tree. The path had changed, but the destination was right.

"Good," Rowan Mercer said. "Someone’s forcing their way into the capital. Let’s go see who’s in such a hurry."

Through the Sacred Tree, Rowan had already sensed the disturbance.

The former kings could only monitor one location at a time. Skilled infiltrators could slip past the island’s awareness if they hid quickly enough. Rowan could not. His own perception, amplified by the Tree, blanketed the entire island effortlessly. Unless he chose to suppress it, even movement beneath the soil didn’t escape him.

Dozens of intruders were storming the royal grounds.

Most were competent. Veterans. Names that carried weight beyond the island.

But one presence stood out.

That individual was powerful enough to rival Isaac Taber, headmaster of Flamel Academy. In the broader world, only one man stood above that level.

"Interesting," Rowan murmured.

They arrived at the outer perimeter just in time to see fallen island guards scattered across the ground.

"You dare storm the royal palace?"

Several short-tempered Sentinels charged forward.

Against Rowan, they had been helpless. Against these intruders, they were devastating. In minutes, most of the attackers were crushed.

Then the tide turned.

"Fiendfire."

A torrent of unnatural flame burst from a staff held by a robed old man. The fire howled with malignant intent, forcing the Sentinels back. Ordinary flames meant nothing to them, but this was different. Alive. Hungry.

"Everyone," one Sentinel barked. "Together!"

They closed in from all sides.

Rowan didn’t move.

The old man was strong, but not strong enough. Still, Rowan already knew who he was.

In this world, only three living mages could wield magic at this level.

Isaac Taber, whom Rowan had met personally. Not him.

The Dark Lord, long dead by Rowan’s own design.

Which left only one.

Stephen White.

Once the most dangerous dark mage alive. Broken when modern weapons shattered his beliefs. Imprisoned by the Emerald Concord.

"So the Emerald Concord wants a hand in this too," Rowan said quietly.

With a thought, iron sand surged from the ground, binding one of the intruders and dragging him across the courtyard.

"Here to destroy the Sacred Tree?" Rowan asked.

He placed a hand on the man’s forehead.

The truth spilled out instantly.

They were mercenaries hired by the Emerald Concord. Their task was to escort Stephen White into the palace and sabotage the Tree. The reasoning was simple. If Behemoth Corporation obtained the Sacred Tree, they could mass-produce enhanced operatives and destabilize the world overnight.

The Concord couldn’t confront Behemoth directly. Even a victory would leave them crippled.

So instead, they aimed to remove the prize.

Destroy the Tree. Deny Behemoth its advantage.

And they weren’t alone.

Rowan sensed more arrivals.

Evan Clarke. Fiona Barlow. Samuel Drake. Martin Gray.

Swordmasters from the Fish-Dragon Society. Members of the Debt Collectors. Independent operatives slipping in from every direction.

All with the same goal.

Prevent Behemoth from claiming the Sacred Tree.

Rowan smiled faintly.

"What a performance."

He decided to wait.

Let them all gather. Let every faction reveal its hand. One overwhelming display would be enough to silence them permanently. After that, he could finally focus on his research in peace.

Then a new presence exploded into the courtyard.

"You bastards think you can touch my granddaughter?"

A white-haired old man stormed in, fingers twitching. Every intruder he passed crumpled, bodies twisting unnaturally before going still.

"Amagiri Rōen," Rowan said, amused.

That had been part of the deal with Lu Jin. Find the man.

On the island, Amagiri Rōen was simply Mila Moore’s grandfather.

Beyond it, he was something else entirely.

Once a prodigy of a ruined sect. A man who fled from guilt and history. A master of force-field manipulation refined to terrifying precision. With a flick of his fingers, enemies became toys. Or corpses.

Rowan watched the carnage with interest.

This island really did attract monsters.