Chapter 282: The Cost of Growth

Anna Helstrom wore a finely tailored gray wool spring coat, its belt tightly cinched around her waist. At the moment, however, she looked like she wanted to rip off the coat, throw it to the ground, and take a swing at Solomon.

"What do you know?" she asked coldly. "Tell me everything you know. And where are we? I know this isn't the sidewalk. Is this your magic?"

"Exactly," the sorcerer replied, raising an eyebrow at the woman. He had finally piqued her interest. Anna's life had been defined by pain, all of it stemming from her father, including the torment that had driven her mother insane. Solomon didn't know the exact details of what had happened, but he didn't need to. Everything Anna and her brother had suffered as children could be traced back to Marduk—and that was the truth.

"This is a magical world," Solomon began, "and the magic in your blood is constantly reminding you of your past. It's something you can't escape because your soul is not a human soul, and your body is not entirely human either." He extended his hand, inviting Anna to step through the portal. "Cross this threshold, and you'll have a choice: pretend your past was nothing more than a normal human life, dismiss the supernatural as nonsense, or join me in fighting your evil father. Ha! Your expression already tells me your answer. Ms. Helstrom, follow me. We need a quiet place to talk."

"You said we'd go somewhere quiet." Anna narrowed her fox-like eyes as she stepped through the portal. The place she arrived in wasn't exactly what she had expected. A few sparse tables and chairs were scattered around the room. Groups of people speaking a language unfamiliar to her gathered around the bar counter, eagerly waiting for their freshly brewed coffee. The warm, aromatic atmosphere of the cafe enveloped the space, and no one seemed to notice the newcomers.

This… this is magic? Anna glanced suspiciously at the short-haired woman standing beside Solomon. The way this magic worked was nothing like what she had attempted before.

"Where are we? And who is she?" Anna asked, her voice laced with suspicion.

"Glad to see that even after such a unique experience, you're managing to keep your composure. Clearly, you've had an excellent upbringing," Solomon said with a smile, gesturing to Anna's companion. "This is my associate, Dr. Maya Hansen. She just finished procuring some equipment and was kind enough to recommend this delightful cafe. Don't worry, most of the locals here just drop by for a minute to grab their coffee while it's still hot. It's only tourists like us who stay longer than ten minutes. I hope you enjoy Italian coffee—I'll pass. I have a psychological aversion to coffee. Juice will do for me. Please, have a seat. No need to blend in."

Maya Hansen wrinkled her nose. She was far too familiar with the smell of coffee, which had been her lifeline during countless late nights in the lab.

"That smell…" she muttered, almost wistfully. "Boss, we really need a coffee machine in the lab. Without one, none of the other equipment will run properly. Machines need power, and I need coffee. Good coffee. Not instant."

"You run your own company?" Anna asked, her curiosity momentarily overtaking her skepticism. "You don't even look old enough to have a driver's license!"

"No," Solomon replied lightly, "it's just a small private magical research institute affiliated with Kamar-Taj. We're a small operation. Apart from Dr. Hansen here, the rest of the staff is… let's just say they're not particularly skilled. Now, let's get to the point, shall we? I imagine you're eager to know about your 'father.'"

"Achoo!"

Meanwhile, Dave sat shivering in his beat-up car. He had ignored Solomon's suggestion to magically transform the vehicle into a flashy sports car, thinking that would draw too much attention. But as Solomon's meeting dragged on and the spring wind continued to bite through the car's creaky seams, Dave began to regret his decision. His thin sweatshirt offered little protection from the cold.

Finally, he stuck his head out of the window and glanced around.

"Screw it," he muttered under his breath, placing his hands on the steering wheel. "I just want a car that doesn't leak air and has a working heater. Not a sports car! Something normal!"

Moments later, his attempt at transformation resulted in a grotesque hybrid—a half-sedan, half-sports car abomination. The engine sputtered to life, and Dave groaned at the absurdity of his creation.

"You realize how conspicuous this car is, right?" Solomon's voice came from outside the driver's window. Dave jumped in surprise as the sorcerer casually leaned against the car, handing him a steaming cup of coffee. "Half-sedan, half-sports car? I'm genuinely curious how the drivetrain even works in this thing."

Solomon climbed into the passenger seat, shaking his head. "I step away for one minute, and you make a mess of things."

"Give me a break," Dave grumbled, clutching the coffee with one hand while rubbing his face with the other. "Precision spellwork takes focus, and I'm running on fumes. My brain's already overloaded from school."

"I can help you hide this mess with an illusion. Don't expect me to fix it with transmutation, though—that's not my specialty," Solomon said as he cast a concealing spell over the car. "But seriously, you need to step up your game. Balthazar's magical protections are wearing off. Even without Merlin's enchantments, Balthazar's lifespan as a druid and a wizard is nearly at its end. He has maybe ten years left, at best. Let him enjoy what's left of his life with the woman he loves. It's up to our generation to take responsibility and stand on our own."

Dave frowned, his hesitation evident. "How much time does Balthazar really have?"

"I don't know. A decade, give or take. Unless Merlin decides to whisk him away to Avalon, the eternal paradise—but you know better than to rely on Merlin for anything," Solomon said with a weary sigh. "Right now, all we can do is focus on improving ourselves. When the older generation is gone, we'll be the ones left to face the horrors of this world alone."

Back in the cafe, Solomon's conversation with Anna continued. While the sorcerer had managed to pique her interest, Anna had remained guarded. She agreed only to maintain contact with Solomon but declined most of his other proposals. She dismissed his more ambitious offers—such as his suggestion that, once Marduk was defeated, Anna should take her place as ruler of her father's former domain in Hell as one of Solomon's vassals.

For now, Anna's only condition was for Solomon to exorcise the demon that had possessed her mother—the same demon that had possessed her biological father, Marduk. Solomon had readily agreed. With Marduk's power in the mortal realm diminished, the task wouldn't require much effort on his part.

Still, Solomon couldn't shake a nagging feeling—a sense of inevitability. He suspected that once his battle with Marduk began, it would mark the end of the Ancient One's tenure as Sorcerer Supreme. Where this premonition came from, he couldn't say. Perhaps it was a subtle hint from Agamotto, a judgment passed down through his stigmata, or merely a combination of intuition and experience.

Either way, the mounting pressure from Marduk—a self-proclaimed Satan and a Lord of Hell—only intensified Solomon's desire for more power. He knew this thirst for strength was dangerous. Restraint had been the first lesson he learned as a sorcerer. But the looming threat of Marduk made restraint feel like a luxury he couldn't afford.

For the Ancient One, however, Marduk was just one more threat in a sea of countless others. The contract between Belial and the Abyss had already forged a vast alliance against the Seventh Throne. By comparison, one more hellish adversary was insignificant.

In the car, Dave's voice broke the silence. "What kind of horrors are we talking about?"

"You'll find out soon enough," Solomon said grimly, staring out the window. "Sooner than you'd like."

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