Chapter 485: A Small Gift

Two men, both reeking of alcohol, strolled through the streets of Oslo.

Solomon's height and attire made him look intimidating. He had already wrapped himself back in his thick wool coat, concealing the weapons at his waist to avoid any unwanted attention from the local police. He had heard of a certain famous Oslo detective named Harry, known for solving numerous enigmatic murder cases, but Solomon doubted that even this detective would have much luck with the upcoming events.

Because Solomon was certain they would encounter violent resistance.

And in battle, there was no such thing as holding back.

Who knew just how inflated the confidence of those fools would be?

Or rather, they needed to act first—to deal with the "lucky ones" before more tragedies unfolded.

Despite their leisurely pace, both Solomon and Kaecilius were perfectly sober. A little alcohol was nowhere near enough to intoxicate a sorcerer.

"I thought you were still busy with your studies. Why did you take this mission?" Kaecilius asked.

"Because I just finished an assignment."

Solomon didn't specify whether he meant his coursework at Oxford or his duties in the Eternal City. Either way, he had every reason—and every excuse—to take a break.

Not to mention, he had been actively avoiding his secretary ever since that incident with the tan lines. Stephanie needed time to cool off, and he was more than happy to delay that confrontation.

Besides, his work in the Eternal City had reached a temporary stopping point.

With the assistance of outstanding nuclear scientists, his joint project with Wakanda—the development of an ultra-heavy nuclear-powered tank—had already undergone simulated tests. The safety had been confirmed, and production was about to begin.

As one of the Sisterhood's future main armored vehicles, all artificial beings and new recruits had already started learning how to drive it, training in mechanized infantry tactics.

A fully mechanized army was Solomon's ultimate goal.

Close-quarters combat in power armor would only be necessary in the final stages of a battle.

Meanwhile, the Maximoff twins were currently running wild on a shopping spree in London.

Solomon had handed them a credit card.

Both had performed well in their exams, especially Pietro, whose results had pleasantly surprised him. Pietro's learning speed far outstripped his sister's.

As for Wanda—Solomon remained skeptical of her, as always.

He could never be sure whether she had truly learned control or if she was simply yielding to her instincts.

Perhaps the day would come when Chthon would finally break free from his seal, spelling disaster for the entire universe.

But not today.

Not yet.

His soldiers weren't enough.

His tanks and warships weren't enough.

Solomon wasn't ready yet.

The items they purchased would be allowed back into the castle, but how they hid them would be another test for Wanda.

The twins were completely unaware of the small traps Solomon had set for them.

Wanda, for example, hadn't let go of the ruby wand Solomon had gifted her. The magic imbued within the wand temporarily supplemented her lack of proficiency in other elemental spells—after all, as a telekinetic caster, Wanda lacked the versatility of a true sorcerer.

Pietro, on the other hand, received a dagger—along with an 800-page book of advanced physics problems.

This wasn't favoritism.

It was a carefully curated collection of problems from Solomon's own high school days, compiled and organized just for Pietro.

If he could finish the book, getting into a top university would be no problem.

Solomon had promised that his gifts would be surprises.

This mission wasn't particularly difficult.

All they had to do was retrieve a golden arrow belonging to Athena's dear twin brother, Apollo.

Athena didn't think too highly of her brother—who, like their father, had a habit of spreading his seed wherever he pleased, buzzing from one lover to the next while glowing like a divine lightbulb.

The goddess of wisdom had vented about Apollo to Solomon more than once.

Sparta's prince Hyacinthus.

Troy's princess Cassandra.

Athens' princess Creusa.

Argos' princess Psamathe.

The woodland goddess Cyrene.

The nymph Acacallis.

The river nymph Melia.

And these were only the ones mortals knew about.

Many more had gone unrecorded.

Because Apollo didn't always announce his conquests in song for the other Olympians to hear.

In terms of sheer promiscuity, Apollo wasn't far behind his father, Zeus.

In fact, the god of light might have even surpassed him.

After all, Apollo swung both ways (not that this was uncommon among the Olympians).

Hyacinths were named after his male lover.

Of course, Solomon didn't see this as divine intervention—it was simply genetic mutations influenced by divine power.

A perfectly scientific explanation.

Everything was scientific.

"He's an idiot," Athena had once scoffed. "Aside from music, he has no real accomplishments. He's a simple fool who indulges in his own hedonistic lifestyle."

Back then, Solomon had only recently met Athena.

He didn't dare express any opinions about the Olympians just yet.

And given the close ties between Gaia, the Greek pantheon, and Kamar-Taj, it wasn't his place to say anything too negative.

If he traced it back far enough, Athena and Solomon were practically from the same family tree.

Their connections were ridiculously strong.

"So, what lesson do we learn from this, Solomon?"

"Don't be a foolish musician."

He had answered naively.

"And don't fall for men."

A single golden arrow from Apollo wasn't a particularly troublesome matter.

The real issue was how many of them Apollo had left behind.

During his battle with Python, he had fired hundreds of arrows.

So this mission might have to be repeated several times—until every last one was retrieved.

Over the millennia, Kamar-Taj had already recovered four quivers' worth of Apollo's golden arrows.

They were now stored in the London Sanctum's museum, placed among the most despised exhibits.

Every sorcerer at Kamar-Taj had likely participated in the great task of recovering Apollo's arrows at some point.

There were just too many.

The spoiled Olympian princeling had never bothered to clean up after himself.

Apollo had single-handedly increased Kamar-Taj's workload more than any other deity in history.

Even the Ancient One had done a few of these retrieval missions.

At this point, the universal consensus at Kamar-Taj was:

If you ever see Apollo, just kill him on sight.

This particular mission simply required knocking out a few idiots who had stumbled upon an arrow and decided they could take over the world with it.

If they resisted too much, Solomon would retaliate with magic and weapons.

At that point, things might get messy—perhaps even bloody.

(Or he might need to dial 911 in advance.)

But, in the spirit of generosity, Solomon had decided to let Kaecilius handle this fight.

After all, the older sorcerer needed the exercise to burn off that growing belly.

"You're just being lazy."

Kaecilius rolled his eyes before casting a spell and storming into a motel near the shipyard district.

This place was a haven for drug dealers, prostitutes, and their clients.

Ever since the local authorities had expelled them from Bragernes Square, they had migrated here instead.

It was also a common haunt for stock traders and Norwegian bankers.

The only reason Solomon had pinpointed the exact location of the person in possession of the golden arrow so quickly was thanks to artificial intelligence.

Not long ago, he had sent the Sisterhood on a mission that, while not overly difficult for them, involved dealing with another AI.

For now, he hadn't quite decided what to do with it.

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