Chapter 249: Kamar-Taj Melee

Some came from Vanaheim, some from Nidavellir, and others from ancient civilizations that had long since vanished from the Nine Realms, but none of them were Hela’s target.

Hela walked to the deepest part of the vault, where a silver casket floated.

The surface of the casket shimmered with a dark red light, as if liquid were slowly flowing across it.

She reached out and lightly touched the casket; the sealing runes lit up and then extinguished, and the casket slowly opened.

Inside was a mass of dark red energy, resembling liquid fire.

It rotated slowly within the casket, each rotation emitting an eerie glow—it was the power of the Reality Stone, the power to rewrite the rules of the Universe.

Aether Particle.

Hela reached out and grasped the mass of dark red energy.

She walked out of the vault, passed through the hall of the Golden Palace, and walked past the guards and servants who were cleaning up the battlefield.

She arrived at the control console of the Bifrost Bridge, where Heimdall stood, his golden eyes gazing into the distance; he could see every corner of the Nine Realms, could see the battlefield in New York that was being reversed, and could see the flames rising in Kamar-Taj.

“Heimdall,” Hela said, “send me to Earth, Kamar-Taj.”

Heimdall did not ask further; he gripped the key to the Bifrost Bridge, and golden light coalesced in his hands.

The Bifrost Bridge activated, and seven-colored light shot out from the top of the bridge, enveloping Hela.

“I wish you a triumphant return,” Heimdall said.

Hela did not answer; her figure became blurred in the seven-colored light and then disappeared.

On the battlefield of Kamar-Taj, the battle had fully erupted.

Strange hovered high above the sanctum, hands forming seals, as golden magic energy coalesced into countless magic circles around him.

His opponent was Ebony Maw, that gaunt, corpse-like mage who was gliding through the air as if dancing, stepping on floating rubble and magical debris.

His hands continuously released black telekinetic energy, which coiled toward Strange like tentacles.

Strange’s magic circles and Ebony Maw’s telekinesis collided in mid-air, black and golden light intertwining and exploding into dazzling sparks of light.

The battle between the two was like a precise game of chess, each move testing the other’s bottom line, every counterattack searching for the other’s flaws.

A smile played on the corners of Ebony Maw’s mouth.

“Young Sorcerer Supreme, your Talents are not bad, but your experience is too little.”

He raised his hand, and the black telekinetic energy transformed into countless fine needles, shooting toward Strange from all directions.

Strange pressed his hands together, and golden magic energy coalesced into a circular shield, blocking those fine needles.

But the shield developed cracks under the continuous attack, and beads of sweat seeped from his forehead.

He suddenly expanded the shield, and a golden wave of energy Swirled outward, shattering all of Ebony Maw’s telekinetic needles.

Taking advantage of the moment Ebony Maw retreated, he formed seals with his hands and opened a Portal; on the other side of the Portal was behind Ebony Maw, yet Strange himself flew in another direction.

A flash of surprise crossed Ebony Maw’s eyes; this young mage actually knew how to use a feint.

He turned around, and the black telekinetic energy coalesced into a wall, blocking the beam of magic energy shooting out from the Portal.

But just at this moment, the real Strange appeared from another direction, his hands coalescing into two magic daggers, stabbing toward Ebony Maw’s back.

Ebony Maw dodged sideways, but the daggers grazed his shoulder, leaving a gash on his black robe.

He looked down at the gash, then raised his head to look at Strange, the smile finally vanishing from his eyes.

“Interesting,” Ebony Maw said, “but not enough.”

He raised his hands, and the black telekinetic energy surged out frantically, like an enraged Beast, pouncing toward Strange.

Strange was forced back continuously by that power, and he had to re-coalesce his shield to protect himself within it.

On the ground, Thor and Loki were facing a more severe situation.

Black Dwarf gripped his warhammer and charged toward them like a moving mountain.

His strength was astonishing; every swing of his hammer smashed a deep pit into the ground, rubble splashed, and the Impact blew the surrounding mages away.

Thor blocked a hammer blow with Mjolnir, was shaken back a dozen steps, and his arm went numb.

“This guy has some serious strength!” Thor shouted.

Loki did not answer; he was locked in a struggle with the Eternals—or, to be accurate, was being swarmed by them.

Although the nine Eternals were being controlled, each possessed unique abilities; they were like a pack of hounds, constantly attacking Loki and Thor, their coordination suffocatingly seamless.

Gilgamesh lunged at Thor, his fist wrapped in Cosmic Energy, smashing toward his face.

Thor dodged sideways and backhanded a hammer blow onto his shoulder.

Gilgamesh’s body swayed, but he did not retreat; he was controlled, feeling no pain, no fear.

Tina rushed in from the side, two daggers stabbing toward Thor’s waist; Thor blocked with his hammer and was forced back two steps.

Kingo’s energy blasts shot in from a distance, hitting Thor’s back and arm in succession, leaving scorched marks on his skin; although the wounds healed rapidly under the power of the Ode of Resurrection, the pain was real.

Ikaris hovered in the air, golden Cosmic Energy shooting from his eyes like two beams of light, blasting toward Thor.

Thor had no time to dodge and was hit in the chest; he went flying, crashing into the wall of the sanctum, causing the wall to cave inward and rubble to rain down.

“Thor!” Loki shouted.

Loki was also in a bitter fight; Sersi’s transmutation ability greatly diminished the effectiveness of his illusions, as she turned the phantoms he created into real objects, making him unable to distinguish which were his magic and which were her transmutations.

Druig’s emotional manipulation constantly assaulted his will, preventing him from concentrating.

Sprite’s illusions layered on top of Sersi’s transmutations, trapping him in a fog where the false and the real were intertwined.

Makkari’s speed was so fast that he could barely see her; she darted around him, each sprint leaving an afterimage, each attack precisely aimed at his weak points.

Phastos’ energy weapons shot in from a distance, continuously bombarding his magic shield, while Kingo’s energy blasts were also constantly draining his DEF.

Thor stood up from the ruins and wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth; he looked down at his hands—the layer of golden fire was still there, his wounds were healing, and his stamina was recovering.

But his expression was grim; he knew they were not facing ordinary enemies.

Each of these Eternals was a god-level warrior, and each possessed unique, powerful abilities.

Although he was stronger than any single one of them, he truly could not hold out against eight of them at once.

“Loki, hold on!” Thor shouted.

Loki did not answer; he was focusing all his energy on maintaining his magic shield, resisting the attacks coming from all directions.