Chapter 280: The Employment Contract

Solomon's magical contracts were known to be fair—those who signed them usually had no complaints. Take Nick Fury, for example. Despite having signed numerous contracts with Solomon, he was still alive and kicking, even finding ways to exploit loopholes and push Solomon's patience to its limits. Solomon could hardly slap unfair terms into the contract simply because he found Fury annoying. After all, the contracts were backed by the Vishanti, who demanded fundamental fairness and justice. Unlike dark gods or eldritch entities, the Vishanti had a strict code of conduct.

Of course, if the contracts were under Dormammu's authority, fairness would go out the window. In such cases, a "soul-selling contract" would be the starting point, and Solomon wouldn't hesitate to bury malicious clauses within a single punctuation mark. However, such deals were off-limits to him—for now. The Vishanti were strict with their sorcerers, allowing only the Sorcerer Supreme a certain degree of flexibility.

To be honest, too much flexibility, in Solomon's opinion. He was convinced the Vishanti knew about the Ancient One's dealings with Dormammu, particularly her siphoning power from the Dark Dimension. By rights, such actions should have disqualified her magical authority. Solomon himself had drawn from the Dark Dimension before, but the vague nature of the three-rings contract he had formed with it left him uncomfortable.

"When punishment is unclear, the threat becomes ambiguous." Contracts with unclear terms made Solomon deeply uneasy.

For example, when he had recently drawn upon the Vishanti's power to conceal a Hell Gate, Oshtur, the Goddess of White Magic, had insisted he pay a small price—a minor injury. Although the injury was negligible compared to the usual cost of summoning such immense power, it clearly showed that Oshtur wasn't particularly friendly toward him.

For this reason, Solomon rarely pushed the limits of the Vishanti's tolerance. When he did, he preferred to negotiate with Agamotto, who had a more favorable view of humanity. The Ancient One's preference for humanity had always irked Oshtur and Hoggoth. This frustration had been a key reason why the Vishanti had been adamant about the Ancient One passing the title of Sorcerer Supreme to Stephen Strange.

However, to ensure Kamar-Taj remained loyal to humanity, the Ancient One had split part of her authority and handed it to Solomon as a contingency plan.

Though the Vishanti demanded fairness in contracts, the wording was left to the skill of the writer. Solomon's contract for the Sola Red Forest Order was particularly strict. It included clauses forbidding the members from revealing the secrets of the Eternal City, speaking Solomon's name in certain contexts, or divulging the location of their base. On the flip side, the benefits he offered were enticing. Solomon promised to help the druids recover their lost heritage—not just as empty words, but as a serious commitment.

Druidic magic was rooted in nature and its four elemental forces, which made elemental spells a druid's specialty. Solomon planned to share some evocation spells as replacements for their lost magic. While he couldn't fully restore their shapeshifting abilities, he could use transformation spells to partially reconstruct some aspects of it. As for unique druidic traits like slowed aging and specific natural blessings, Solomon figured he could consult Balthazar for assistance. He doubted Balthazar would refuse him.

The High Priestess, Marianna Stern, was the first to receive a copy of the contract. Written in deep green ink on parchment, it felt heavy in her hands, both literally and figuratively. She glanced at Solomon, who sat on an old, dusty couch, carefully penning the other contracts by hand. The air in the room was thick with dust, making it hard for her to breathe.

This turn of events had come too suddenly for the druids. The order was divided over whether to accept Solomon's offer. It wasn't until Solomon proposed showing them their future workspace that the internal debate was temporarily shelved.

"Your contract doesn't require us to fight for you. Why not?" Marianna asked after handing her contract to another member for review.

"Because you're too weak," Solomon replied without looking up. His attention remained on the parchment before him, ensuring that every letter was written flawlessly. "Yes, weak. You can't even use the Raymond Gaton Magic Array properly. In the magical world, weakness equals foolishness, and foolish mages always cause trouble." His tone was cold and indifferent, as though he were stating an unchangeable fact. "I need you as research assistants to help perfect my alchemical mutation studies. Once your future colleague in biological sciences arrives, you'll understand my expectations better."

Gerald, a burly young man, was visibly irritated by Solomon's condescension. Maybe it was the sorcerer's dismissive attitude, or perhaps it was his London accent. Whatever the reason, Gerald looked like he wanted to challenge Solomon's strength. Solomon didn't even bat an eye. With a casual wave of his hand, Gerald vanished into thin air.

Moments later, screams echoed through the ruins of the Eternal City as Gerald plummeted from the high ceiling, flailing wildly. Just as he was about to hit the ground, he abruptly stopped mid-air, as though an invisible hook had caught him.

"Knowledge is power. That's not an empty phrase," Solomon said, handing Gerald a freshly written contract after the young man stumbled back into the building, visibly shaken. "Your order has lost far too much of its heritage. I don't know how much you originally learned from Merlin, but clearly, it wasn't enough."

The other druids, awestruck by Solomon's display, watched in silence. For most of them, Gerald's dramatic fall left a much stronger impression than Solomon's earlier takeover of the magic circle. However, Marianna, who was more knowledgeable than her peers, found the latter to be a far greater demonstration of Solomon's power.

"You need to learn," Solomon continued. "Sign the contract, and you'll move beyond the petty rituals you've been performing. You'll gain access to the true essence of this world, to knowledge and… longevity. Trust me, I've met druids who lived over a thousand years. Even if you're mediocre, you should at least make it to a century."

"I accept!" Marianna's thick glasses reflected the pale yellow light as she spoke, her tone calm but unable to fully hide the excitement bubbling within her. "I accept," she repeated, "so long as you fulfill everything written in the contract."

"Of course. The contract binds us both equally. Now, feel free to pick your rooms in this building—one per person. You can use the portal array to travel between your mansion and here. Just make sure to follow the work schedule. The protective spells here aren't for show. You might not notice them, but trust me, don't try touching anything you shouldn't."

"And if we do?" asked Karim, one of the druids.

"Nothing much. You'll just die," Solomon replied nonchalantly. "This place is dangerous. Don't wander into unstable areas—I won't rescue you. That would be a personal decision, and I'm not obligated to help with that as your employer. Oh, and tomorrow, you'll have another contract to sign: the employee handbook. Today's contracts only cover employment and confidentiality. Also, you'll be reporting to another superior—the apprentice of Merlin's apprentice, a legitimate inheritor of the Merlinian Mage Circle. I'll bring him to meet you."

"No, no, no, no, NO!" Dave shook his head furiously, his movements so rapid they blurred. "I am not staying in some underground dungeon! Look at me—I'm studying environmental science now. Why does your magical nonsense keep ruining my life?"

"You're a mage too, Dave," Solomon said patiently, leaning against the foldable desk in a lecture hall. "Don't tell me you've never touched Excalibur. Have you forgotten the responsibilities Balthazar gave you?"

"Yeah, I'm the Keeper of the Sword, I know," Dave muttered, slumping into his chair. "Look, I've got a girlfriend, and I can't just abandon my life to work in your secret base. Do you have any idea how expensive dating is? I need a normal job in the real world!"

"I'm not asking you to move there permanently. You haven't even mastered a handful of druidic spells yet. Don't look at me like that—your progress is painfully slow. Balthazar's already complained about you several times. How's your transformation spell coming along? Or your alchemy? Balthazar's expecting your skills to surpass his. You don't need to be as versatile as Merlin, but at least learn how to turn into an animal."

Dave sighed, rubbing his face. Ever since he started learning magic, his acne seemed to have gotten worse.

"I've found a scattered group of Camelot mages. You should lead them. Call yourself the High Priest of the Druidic Order if it makes you feel better. Supreme Merlin might be a joke, but your talent isn't as bad as you think."

"Compared to you, it's terrible," Dave muttered.

"Besides me—"

"Alright, fine. What do you need?"

"Human mutation experiments."

"WHAT?! I study environmental science, not biology!" Dave groaned, running his hands through his hair. The faint smell of stale sweat reached Solomon's nose. Fitting for a druid, Solomon thought.

"Druidic knowledge also covers diseases. I need you to accurately induce illnesses in my test subjects to help them develop

immunity."

"Wait, you're doing human experiments?"

"Not yet. I haven't even started animal trials."

"But that's your end goal, isn't it?"

"Yes."

"You know this is insane, right?"

"Absolutely. I know exactly what I'm doing. Maybe Balthazar didn't tell you what Kamar-Taj's work entails, but it's time you accepted the harsh reality. The magical world is not a fairy tale."

[Check out my Patreon for +200 additional chapters in all my fanfics! Only $5 per novel or $15 for all!!] [www.p@treon.com/Mutter]

[+50 Power Stones = +1 Extra Chapter]

[+5 Reviews = +1 Extra Chapter]