Chapter 37

The person surrounded at the center moved with unbelievable agility. The shield seemed to come alive in his hands; every block erupted with a heavy, muffled impact, and every swing sent an enemy staggering back.

But his room to move was being compressed bit by bit, the encirclement growing thicker and thicker.

"Who is that?"

Kamidar narrowed his eyes, his tone carrying undisguised surprise. "Ordinary people don't have skills like that."

"An old soldier."

Zhao Yu stopped, his gaze falling on that iconic round shield. "People call him ** Captain."

"I see."

Kamidar nodded, seemingly recalling some rumor.

He looked at the congested battle ahead, then glanced at Zhao Yu. "Should we help? It looks like he needs some room."

Zhao Yu said nothing. He merely took a step forward.

His fingers twitched slightly, and an almost imperceptible tremor rippled through the air.

The next instant, several Chitauri soldiers at the outermost edge of the encirclement seemed to be struck by invisible sledgehammers. They were flung violently to either side, forcibly tearing open a gap in the airtight formation.

The pressure suddenly eased, and the figure in the star-spangled uniform at the center immediately seized that fleeting opportunity.

The edge of his shield smashed hard into one enemy's jaw. Using the momentum to spin, he delivered a fierce side kick that sent another soldier trying to ambush him flying backward, knocking down several companions.

More than a hundred translucent chains burst from Zhao Yu's body. Dark crimson patterns wound across the surface of each chain, pulsing faintly like blood vessels.

The spikes at the ends of the chains gleamed coldly beneath the sunlight, producing a fine metallic scraping sound.

A rusty, bloody stench spread through the air.

The chains writhed in midair as though they possessed wills of their own.

Without hesitation, they shot straight toward the Chitauri wreaking havoc in the streets.

One chain pierced an alien soldier through the chest, bringing up a mist of black blood as it burst through his back.

A second chain followed close behind, wrapping around another enemy's neck. When it tightened, the sound of bones shattering was clearly audible.

In less than three breaths, more than a hundred Chitauri were nailed to building walls or the ground. Some had their limbs pierced through, while others were bound into grotesque poses, their struggles growing weaker and weaker.

The battlefield suddenly fell silent.

Zhao Yu lowered his head and glanced at his palm. After the chains retracted into his body, only a faint, nearly imperceptible tingling remained.

That familiar voice sounded in his ear again—the chains had absorbed the enemies' life force and returned it to him as a warm current.

Several suppressed gasps came from behind him.

The young mage on the left took half a step back, his lips moving soundlessly.

Another mage gripped his Sling Ring so tightly that his knuckles turned white, his gaze darting between Zhao Yu and those **.

Kamidar's brow furrowed into a deep crease.

He had lived for decades and had seen most of the magic recorded in the secret tomes of Kamar-Taj's library—defensive formations made of golden geometric patterns, cutting spells borrowed from spatial dimensions.

But he had never seen anything like this.

Crimson Chains, he remembered.

It was one of the basic spells. The chains of energy it released were used for binding and repelling, and their toughness was limited.

In the versions he had mastered, the chains would dissipate at most two seconds after touching a physical creature.

But the chains Zhao Yu had summoned—he crouched down and touched a lingering dark red mark on the ground with his fingertips.

It felt cold, like some hard mineral.

The energy fluctuations radiating from the chains' surfaces were wrong as well.

They were not pure magical constructs. Mixed within them was some viscous, warm power, like blood flowing through a living creature.

Kamidar stood and stared at Zhao Yu's back.

The young man stood in the middle of the street, Chitauri ** scattered around him, his expression as calm as if he had merely finished an ordinary chore.

This truly was not Crimson Chains.

Or rather, it was no longer Crimson Chains.

When the end of the chain sank into that man's chest, a faint rusty smell drifted through the surrounding air.

Several young mages standing in the distance widened their eyes, their lips parting slightly, yet they could not make a coherent sound.

Everything they had learned—how energy transformed, how spells were woven—shattered at their feet like sun-cracked clods of earth.

Kamidar's Adam's apple bobbed.

He saw the dark crimson chain pulse faintly, like the blood vessel of a living creature.

This was wrong. Completely wrong.

Magic should cause searing pain, leave scorch marks, and warp the air with intense heat.

Yet in that instant, he had distinctly heard the brief, clear tearing sound that came only when a blade sliced through flesh.

A physical, tangible cut.

"You..."

He forced out half a word, his fingers curling unconsciously.

The person on the ground moved.

Only slightly. The position where his shoulder blade rested against the broken bricks shifted a little.

But it was enough to make Kamidar swallow the rest of his words.

Only then did he notice that around the section of chain embedded in the body, tiny beads of blood were slowly receding, as though some force were drawing them back in.

It was not an attack.

At least, not entirely.

A sharp intake of breath came from behind him.

An apprentice mage took half a step back, his boot heel striking a pebble with a crisp clack.

Zhao Yu did not look up.

His gaze remained low, fixed only on the ring where the chain met the skin.

A dark red halo flickered there in an erratic rhythm, like an unwilling heartbeat.

He felt a subtle resistance from his palm—the thing was sulking.

The healing was much slower than usual. As the wound closed, the sensation of fibers pulling together became dull and drawn out.

"The efficiency has dropped."

He spoke softly, unsure whether he was speaking to himself or to that emotional chain.

Kamidar finally found his voice again.

He stepped forward, gravel crunching softly beneath his feet. "Stop!"

The moment those words left his mouth, even he froze.

He had been too hasty, his pitch pulled a little too high. "Even if he isn't one of us,"

He tried to lower his tone, but his words still wavered. "The rules cannot be broken.

Using magic on ordinary people is taboo. You know that."

Wind swept in from the end of the street, carrying the smell of gunpowder and another, sweeter stench of blood.

Several young people exchanged glances, then quickly looked away.

Their minds were still filled with the scene from moments ago: those alien creatures had been sliced apart with ease, the cuts so neat they seemed measured by a ruler.

This conflicted with every tome they had memorized.

Magic should not be like this.

Or rather, the magic they had been taught should not be like this.

The chain pulsed again.

This time, it was weaker, almost impossible to detect.

The person on the ground began breathing more heavily, his chest rising and falling more noticeably.

Zhao Yu finally raised his eyes. His gaze swept past Kamidar's tense shoulders and settled on those young faces filled with confusion and fear.

"I'm saving him."

His voice was flat. He was not explaining himself, merely stating a fact.

Kamidar opened his mouth.

He wanted to ask why magic could be like a blade, what exactly that chain was, and where such an operation that defied every principle came from.

But in the end, he only watched Zhao Yu withdraw the chain—slowly, with an almost weary detachment.

After the dark crimson sheen faded, the chain looked like the most ordinary piece of metal, resting in his palm, unnaturally quiet.

There were still sporadic ** sounds in the distance, dull and muffled, as though wrapped in something heavy.

None of the young mages moved.

They were still processing everything before them: the beliefs that had been overturned, the chain capable of sulking, and this person named Zhao Yu—his magic seemed to come from an entirely different world from the one they knew.

There was obvious urgency in Kamidar's shout.

The sound made the very air tighten.

As he rushed forward, the hem of his robe stirred a gust of wind, nearly brushing the young mage's arm. "You can't do this!"

He repeated himself, each word seemingly squeezed through clenched teeth. "Rules are rules—using magic on ordinary people comes with consequences you cannot bear."

He stared at Zhao Yu, his gaze mixed with concern and an unquestionable warning.

Kamar-Taj's precepts were carved into every ancient stone slab, and even more deeply into every mage's bones and blood: power was meant to protect, not to stand above others.

Any act that crossed the line would invite the judgment of the Sorcerer Supreme.

Yet Zhao Yu did not stop.

He turned slightly, allowing Kamidar to see the situation on the ground clearly.

A chain-like object with a dark sheen extended from his palm, its other end embedded in the chest of the person lying there—the unconscious Captain from earlier.

At the torn portions of the Captain's uniform, flesh was visibly drawing together and healing. Even the deep furrow between his brows had relaxed somewhat.

"Look carefully."

Zhao Yu's voice was low, nearly a whisper. "This isn't an attack."

Kamidar froze.

He bent down, his gaze shifting between the Captain's increasingly peaceful complexion and the chain that seemed to possess life.

The wounds were indeed disappearing. The breath of life was returning to this body.

But only moments ago, he had personally witnessed the same magical glow tearing through the alien invaders' formation and harvesting countless lives.

How could destruction and salvation come from the same source?

The several mages behind him were also rooted to the spot.

Someone unconsciously edged half a step forward, then forcibly stopped.

Their faces were filled with confusion, as though some law they had long believed in had silently shattered before their eyes.

An offensive spell... how could it be reversed into a warm current of healing? This defied every record in the tomes and overturned their understanding of the nature of magical power.

Wind swept across the empty ground, stirring fine dust.

Kamidar straightened up and stared blankly at the silhouettes of ruined buildings in the distance.

The world seemed to have quietly changed its rules without him noticing.

He opened his mouth, but in the end could not make a sound. He merely turned his gaze back to the young mage's calm profile and the strange chain still pulsing faintly, connecting two lives.

What had just happened had thrown his thoughts into chaos.

Not to mention the sight before him now.

How could this be?

This was not how Kamar-Taj taught magic at all!

A wave of unwillingness rose in their hearts.

Could Kamar-Taj have taught them wrong?

But how could Kamar-Taj's inheritance be flawed?

Yet the spell flowing through Zhao Yu's hands was right there, leaving them no choice but to believe.

On one side were the teachings of the Sorcerer Supreme.

On the other was the miracle Zhao Yu had displayed.

They felt some long-held understanding shattering.

Their expressions had all frozen, revealing their bewilderment.

"Roar—!"

Amid their wavering, a roar suddenly exploded.

Even the nearby buildings trembled faintly with it.

The mages shuddered and hurriedly turned around, nearly scared out of their wits.

In the distance, a massive green figure nearly three meters tall was charging toward them.

The pressure brought by that green body was overwhelming.

Nearly three meters tall.

Muscles bulged in great blocks, gleaming dark green.

He looked like a beast that had completely gone berserk.

Hulk still retained a trace of clarity at this moment.

Banner's consciousness could still seep into this body.

Unlike before, he had not completely fallen into madness.

At the very least, he could still distinguish friend from foe.

At the very least, when facing former companions, he did not attack them all in blind rage.

Therefore.

When he saw that person lying on the ground, with Zhao Yu standing quietly beside him.

A crimson chain pierced straight into that person's chest.

The chain **.

Dark red, bloodlike magical energy slowly flowed.

Hulk's fury ignited in an instant.

"Roar!!"

Witnessing all this, he completely lost control.

Even more surging power erupted from within him.

The fatigue that had accumulated in his body somehow vanished without a trace.

In its place came a heavier, more solid power, rising from the depths of his limbs.

Thud.

Thud.

Thud.

With every step he took, the ground gave a dull echo, as though something enormous were awakening beneath the earth.

The faces of those young mages had long since drained of color, their lips pressed tight and white.

They were apprentices who spent their days dealing with tomes. When had they ever witnessed such a scene firsthand? The fact that they could barely remain standing instead of collapsing to the ground probably already counted as proof of their rigorous training.

Kamidar stood a little farther away, his body trembling slightly as well, but he could at least force out a few words. "Zhao Yu... can you handle this guy?"

He swallowed. "If you're not confident, we'd better retreat first.

There's no need to fight him head-on."

Zhao Yu rubbed his temple.