Breaking news!
According to reliable sources at this station, billionaire Tony Stark has recently developed dementia.
Our reporters captured multiple photos of Mr. Stark talking to a conch shell. Afterward, a seagull dumped its droppings all over the billionaire's head.
What exactly happened? Stay tuned for further developments.
Smash!
Tony angrily smashed the television, his eyes flashing with barely restrained fury.
He was in the headlines again, but not with the usual Playboy-style coverage. This was nothing but outright slander!
He hadn't expected his relaxing afternoon to be twisted into such a distorted report, or to be saddled with the ridiculous label of "dementia." His stock had plunged in response.
"Magic Conch, what should I do now?"
Tony angrily tugged the string. He wanted to hear what the culprit had to say for itself.
"Do nothing."
Tony had expected some useful advice, but his expression darkened. What was that supposed to mean? Was it telling him to give up fighting back?
Tony cared about his reputation. People were calling him senile!
"All right, then. Magic Conch, let's put that aside for now. How do I find The Gh'gth Revelations?"
Tony sighed and asked another question. The Magic Conch quickly gave him an answer.
"Do nothing."
Tony's brows drew together, his eyes filled with frustration.
All that humiliation, and this was what he got in return? What a disgrace!
"So you're telling me to ignore everything and stay home, as if that book will just fall out of the sky?"
Tony spoke with a note of irritation and sarcasm, then tugged the string again. The Magic Conch answered him just as solemnly as before.
"Yes."
Fine. This stupid thing.
Tony was convinced, and sank into a funk.
"Sorcerer Supreme, what should we do now? If this continues, we'll lose our Mana. We need to find a new Sovereign Lord."
Baron Mordo's brow furrowed with worry. Mages mainly cast spells by borrowing from powerful beings in the universe—commonly known as gods.
But some time ago, all the gods who had lent them power stopped responding, as if they had never existed at all.
That was good news: it meant they wouldn't have to repay their debts.
It was also bad news: it meant they would no longer be Mages.
Once the Mana in their bodies ran out, they would be no different from ordinary people.
Perhaps the magical artifacts, books, and scrolls passed down through the generations could keep them going for a while, but that would be like water without a source. One day, it would all dry up.
"Mordo, we're only mortals, too. There's nothing wrong with returning to an ordinary life."
The Ancient One took a sip of tea and calmly shared her thoughts, but her heart was nowhere near as tranquil as her words suggested.
Dormammu, the Dimensional Demon God, had also vanished some time ago. Naturally, she could no longer draw power from the Dark Dimension—or perhaps the question was whether the Dark Dimension still existed at all.
Unlike the other Mages, the Ancient One's Mana was draining far faster.
As soon as she could no longer draw power from the Dark Dimension, the years she had held at bay came rushing back. If her Mana hadn't been so vast, she might have crumbled to dust on the spot.
But no matter how vast her reserves, they would eventually run dry.
If the Ancient One didn't find another reliable source of Mana soon, her path would reach its end.
And there would be no one waiting to take her on afterward.
"But Sorcerer Supreme, if we have no Mana, who will protect the world?"
Baron Mordo was deeply troubled. For days, he had lived in fear, worried that he might wake up one morning as the slave of some powerful being.
He had tried every method he could think of to find a new creditor and borrow power. He didn't even care if the "interest" was high. He just needed to get through the present.
But he had failed. There wasn't a single lender to be found.
"Mordo, this world no longer needs Mages to protect it. We—"
The Ancient One stopped herself. She realized there was a problem with what she had just said.
The Dimensional Demon Gods might be gone, but there were still forces intent on invading Earth.
Mephisto the Devil, for instance. For some reason, though, he was still keeping silent.
Perhaps it was because the three Sanctums were still standing. But with Mana draining so quickly, even they wouldn't last much longer.
"Sorcerer Supreme, the world needs Mages to protect it. The Dimensional Demon Gods may be gone, but other evil forces still covet Earth!"
Baron Mordo's voice carried a hint of urgency. He wasn't worried because he might become an ordinary person again. He was worried that, without guardians, the world would be left vulnerable to evil!
"Mordo, wait a little. Let me think this through."
The Ancient One gently set down her teacup, a grave look flashing across her face. She rose and walked to the window, gazing at the sun as it sank in the distance, her mind churning with complicated thoughts.
"Mordo, you're right. The world does need protectors. Perhaps we really do need a Sovereign Lord."
Baron Mordo was overjoyed. Having the Sorcerer Supreme personally seek out a Sovereign Lord was far more reliable than him trying to figure it out alone.
He just didn't know how long it would take to find this new Sovereign Lord, or how much interest the new lender would charge.
Baron Mordo was worried. With so many gods gone, there was no telling whether they could even find this Sovereign Lord.
And even if they did, he had no idea how high the interest would be.
The market was now a monopoly. The other side might demand an outrageous price.
Even with the Sorcerer Supreme negotiating in person, no one could be sure she'd get a good deal.
The Ancient One glanced at Baron Mordo. Well versed in human nature, she knew exactly what he was thinking.
He was wondering whether they could find a creditor, and whether that creditor would be willing to offer them a low-interest "loan."
There was no need to go looking. A creditor had already come to her, offering a loan to her, a professional lender herself.
Though it wasn't quite right to say the other party had come to her. Rather, the Ancient One had heard His call and contacted Him of her own accord.
The terms offered by this possible Sovereign Lord were hard to understand, but not demanding.
He was more than willing to become her creditor and the creditor of the Mages, providing them with Mana. All He asked in return was that they worship Him and expand His church.
Such generous terms were unheard of. Yet when presented with an offer so favorable, the Ancient One hesitated.
That didn't mean it was a good thing. The other party might be plotting something.
Suddenly, the Ancient One's thoughts were interrupted. She frowned and looked in one direction.
"Sorcerer Supreme, did something happen?"
"Kaecilius. He's left."
Before you continue