Odin trying to win him over made some sense—after all, William could help extend Odin's life. But the Ancient One trying to recruit him? Was that really necessary?
But William only had to think about it for a moment to understand. To people like Odin and the Ancient One, someone who could wield spatial power freely was no different than a game-breaking cheat.
Though in a real fight, his strength might not threaten either of them, both knew William wasn't someone with a typical strongman's mentality. He wouldn't even show up to a direct confrontation—he'd just hide in a pocket dimension with the Space Stone and strike from the shadows.
Faced with the Ancient One's offer, William only thought for a few seconds before shaking his head.
Joining the ranks of the mystic sorcerers would mean accepting responsibilities and constraints—nothing like his current carefree lifestyle, doing whatever he pleased.
"Sorry, I'm naturally too lazy. I can't deal with all those rules."
The Ancient One, having expected this, merely smiled. "My demands aren't many. Aside from protecting Earth, the only thing I ask is that you preserve the secrecy of magic and don't target ordinary people. Think about it."
So generous?
But William knew the truth. Fewer rules didn't mean fewer complications.
Kamar-Taj probably wasn't just after his strength. There had to be deeper reasons.
After all, mystic sorcerers had to pay a price for every spell they cast. In their eyes, any spellcaster who didn't suffer magical backlash was like a child playing make-believe.
They couldn't even handle minor demons without years—or decades—of struggle. Yet William? As long as he had enough mana and mental strength, he could cast anything with zero consequence.
So it was no surprise the Ancient One had her eye on him.
But to William, this was an enormous burden. If he joined Kamar-Taj, one day someone would inevitably ask him: How do you cast magic so freely?
What would he say then? Oh, I've got a cheat system in my brain?
And if he stayed silent, while fellow sorcerers around him suffered endless magical backlash fighting darkness, how could he just stand by?
Eventually, he'd become a thorn in every sorcerer's side.
Those tormented mystics would stop at nothing to get the secrets out of him.
But there was no secret. William knew full well—he didn't have any method to solve magic backlash. He didn't even understand the problem.
To avoid turning allies into future enemies, he had to keep a healthy distance from the mystics.
"Sorry, Ancient One. There are some questions I don't have answers to. Please forgive me."
He nodded to her, then stepped back and vanished from the New York Sanctum, reappearing at his villa by Lake Como in Italy—an estate he'd taken from Charles Cavendish.
If the mystic world's plight was to be solved, it had to start with the Vishanti. But William had zero interest in that. If he had the time, he'd rather be working out with his girlfriends.
Besides, if the mystics really overcame their flaws and grew too powerful, what benefit would that bring him?
For all he knew, Earth would become a world ruled by spellcasters.
Looking at the British wizarding community's attitude toward ordinary people, he knew mages weren't exactly nice.
Wine glass in hand, eyes closed, William focused on what his magical clone was seeing. Soon, he spotted an old man who looked exactly like Victor the vampire.
But the moment William's clone saw him, he knew—this man wasn't Victor. Though he carried the same dark vampiric energy, the faint sulfuric scent hidden within his soul—undetectable to most—confirmed it: this was a demon.
No wonder Queen Amelia had said she could sense Victor had returned from Hell, yet couldn't feel their blood pact.
Now it all made sense.
The demon had taken Victor's appearance knowing William's vengeful nature. He'd bait William into returning to the Blood God altar in hopes of trapping him and turning him into a dark creature.
Mephisto, now amused, walked up to a kneeling demon named Bena. "You dared enter Earth without my permission, like those lesser siblings of yours? That's betrayal, my child."
Bena trembled and pressed his head to the floor, voice quivering as he explained, "Father, I didn't betray you. I was trying to acquire the space bridge technology from William Devonshire as a gift for you.
That's why I took the form of his enemy—to lure him into a trap."
"I just… didn't expect him to be so strong. The plan failed. But Father, everything I did—was for you."
"Silence, Bena," Mephisto snapped. If he bought that excuse, he wouldn't be a demon king.
He knew better than anyone—demons had no family bonds, no gratitude. Everything Bena said was just to protect himself.
If Bena had really gotten his hands on the space bridge, would he have handed it over? Not a chance.
He'd have used it to gather forces from Hell, enter Earth en masse, and declare himself king.
But Mephisto wasn't bothered. To a demon, such betrayal was normal.
He pressed his staff to the back of Bena's head. "Give me the Spear of Longinus, and I'll forgive your mistake."
At that, Bena, who had been trembling the entire time, suddenly froze.
Mephisto's face darkened. "What? You can't bear to give it up?"
"Sorry, Father. I no longer have the spear."
He slapped away Mephisto's staff and raised his head—there was no fear on his face. The trembling had just been him holding back laughter.
"I promised Mammon I'd give it to his followers in exchange for getting me to Earth. I don't even know where the spear is now.
Besides—"
Bena shed Victor's disguise and transformed into a hideous, two-meter-tall demon with razor-sharp fangs, looming over Mephisto.
"My dear Father," he sneered. "Did you forget? This isn't Hell."
Bena clenched his fists, locking eyes with Mephisto. "In Hell, you're a king. But here, in the material world, you're a pathetic thing who can't even beat an archdemon.
Once I get the space bridge, Earth will become my second Hell. I will become the one true Satan."
"Heh heh... heh heh…"
Hearing Bena dare to dream of the Satan throne, Mephisto finally grew truly angry. Smiling coldly, he said, "You'll soon learn why none of your traitorous brothers ever succeeded, Bena."
Mephisto continued smiling as he slowly backed away.
"When you crawl back to Hell, I'll be waiting.
And I'll swallow you.
Bit by bit.
See you soon, my child."
______
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