Chapter 230: Only Good Food Cannot Be Betrayed

Mordo was visibly irritated with his junior disciple. Monitoring the Cosmic Cauldron was grueling work, and Mordo disapproved of Solomon's lighthearted attitude toward the artifact. However, just as he was about to explain the cauldron's origins, he remembered Solomon's photographic memory and swallowed his words reluctantly.

Meanwhile, Kaecilius returned with the other sorcerers, their spoils including several living but deranged cultists, a pile of books filled with nonsensical ravings, and some dark magical artifacts. The Sorcerer Supreme had summoned them back. With the Canadian cult mostly eradicated, it was time to redirect their focus to Hell.

"How is it that you look like the true sorcerer, while I'm stuck feeling like the barbarian?" Kaecilius couldn't resist sniping at Solomon upon learning about the latter's creation of a homunculus. Unlike Kamar-Taj's structured sorcery, Solomon's magic seemed straight out of a fantasy tale, making Kaecilius question his own years of training. Solomon simply spread his hands innocently—his main difference from the sorcerers of Kamar-Taj was his love for theory.

While most sorcerers sought powerful magic, Solomon was fascinated by all magical phenomena. With his current skills, he could set off on an adventure straight out of a storybook with a sturdy tank, a survival expert who could scavenge food anywhere, a healer, and perhaps a ranger or rogue. As long as the journey didn't involve a Blood War, the Astral Plane, a dragon's lair, or Waterdeep's sewers, he could handle it. And if any fool mistook him for the team's weak link and attempted a close-range attack, the results would likely be comically disastrous.

That was before he created his homunculus. Now, his safety was entrusted to Dana, whose alchemical frame and powerful engine allowed her to wield massive blades for hours without tiring. Solomon planned to arm her with Athena's shield, convinced that with her reflexes, no one could breach the Aegis's defense.

"The incarnation of Mephisto has left a half-demon progeny in the mortal realm. You all know what such an entity might attempt," said the Sorcerer Supreme, seated casually at a low table as the assembled sorcerers received their mission. "This task is unique. I cannot directly assist you. According to my agreement with Mephisto, if I intervene, the incarnation must be returned to its source. However, none of you are bound by that contract. Mephisto has no choice—his bottom line is preventing the incarnation from usurping his authority. You are free to act as you see fit."

"What should we do about the half-demon?" Kaecilius asked, hitting on the critical point.

"As I said, you are free to act. You can kill the progeny to prevent its inheritance of demonic power, or let it go—it's up to you." The Sorcerer Supreme waved dismissively, unconcerned about the half-demon's fate. Bringing the entity back to Kamar-Taj for education was an option, but the clash between its infernal blood and the Vishanti's positive energy would lead to agonizing death. Letting it go, however, would allow it to develop magic naturally, ultimately succumbing to its demonic power and falling to corruption. If, one day, the half-demon summoned Mephisto to Earth, the Sorcerer Supreme wouldn't be surprised.

For now, the Supreme deemed it best to let fate take its course. But he also wanted to see if his disciples could defy destiny.

"This mission will be coordinated by Mordo, with Kaecilius in charge of combat," the Sorcerer Supreme said with a yawn, his tone indifferent. "And Solomon, remember to bring Phoenix with you. You'll encounter Ghost Rider on this mission, and Phoenix's banishment spells will be useful. It's a long-term task, Solomon. My dear apprentice, I'd hate for this to make you fail your exams."

A few snickers arose from the group. Turning to locate the source, Solomon found himself unable to pinpoint who was mocking him. As the only full-fledged Kamar-Taj sorcerer still in high school, he had no real counter to such teasing. Rolling his eyes, he silently sent his disdain to everyone present.

Naturally, this earned him more laughter. The Sorcerer Supreme intervened before things escalated further.

After the other sorcerers dispersed, Solomon sat before the low table. The Sorcerer Supreme nonchalantly revealed the snacks he had been hiding behind his back.

"Master, you eat too much candy," Solomon said, exasperated. For years, the two had bet on snacks in their little games, and the Sorcerer Supreme always won. This meant he consumed far more sugar than Solomon, prompting the latter to worry about his teacher's blood sugar levels.

"You're as boring as Mordo," the Sorcerer Supreme said, popping a watermelon-flavored gum ball into his mouth. He then shoved one into Solomon's mouth to silence his protests. "The dried beef from the villagers is ready. Go down the mountain and buy some. Don't forget the butter. We live at high altitude, so we need high-calorie food. Butter-fried lamb sounds good—remember to add some chili."

"Don't kid me, Master! How could the wind penetrate the wards? Living at high altitude isn't an excuse for your candy addiction!"

"Ah, you've seen through me." The Sorcerer Supreme exaggeratedly raised his eyebrows. "Anyway, just make sure you get the dried beef. You loved it even before you had teeth—well, loved looking at it, since I ate most of it. Also, spicy lamb head, tripe, and—most importantly—matsutake mushrooms. We can roast them ourselves."

"Which means I'll have to drink three bowls of butter tea at every house I visit," Solomon groaned. "The last senior to go down the mountain came back with diarrhea. My stomach might not handle so much fat."

"The villagers think of us as monks. Just recite a sutra for them. I know you can; don't think I forgot how you use the Great Compassion Mantra to mess with people in games." The Sorcerer Supreme clearly had ulterior motives—more snacks for himself.

Definitely not to keep the other sorcerers from discovering his stash of candy. Absolutely not!

As Solomon prepared to descend the mountain, a fellow sorcerer called out, "Don't forget some Gangba lamb! We haven't had hotpot all year. And stop pretending—everyone but Mordo knows what the Supreme wants."

"I know you—you're the one who got diarrhea last time!" Solomon shot back.

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