Reborn as the God-Emperor in Marvel

Jeanne's demeanor shifted strangely when Solomon repeatedly mentioned Cereza and Bayonetta, as though something momentarily disrupted her thoughts. However, she quickly regained her composure.

"Do you think without the remote, I can't launch the missiles?" Jeanne sneered, once again pointing her gun at the sorcerer. But by the time she had hesitated, Solomon was already standing on the railing, holding a piece of parchment in his hand.

"Magic with the 'Command' property is highly effective. I know exactly what it can do," Solomon said, waving the parchment in front of Jeanne. "So, I've prepared this."

"A piece of paper? What can that possibly do?" Jeanne, unfamiliar with scrolls, had no idea what Solomon was planning. Solomon didn't bother explaining. Instead, he quickly tore the scroll open, activating the magic embedded within. Solomon had always adhered to the philosophy that there were no "strongest" spells, only the most suitable ones for a given situation. The spell within the scroll was perfectly tailored to the current circumstances.

It was a second-circle evocation spell, Dason's Furnace, capable of raising the temperature of an area to extreme heat, harming both living beings and objects within. Due to Solomon's magical power, the spell could last for a significant duration. Fire had always been a witch's weakness, as Bayonetta had demonstrated many times. She had made no secret of her dislike for Solomon's fire spells, even when hunting angels together. Now, that same weakness was being applied to Jeanne.

As the spell took effect, the entire rooftop, except for the corner where Solomon stood, was engulfed in blistering heat. The cement ground of the rooftop rapidly dried, the puddles of water evaporating into white steam that quickly dissipated into the air. Even the raindrops that fell never reached the ground, turning into vapor before returning to the leaden clouds above. The rooftop became bone-dry, and a layer of white mist rose from the heat. But Solomon wasn't finished yet—he conjured a half-circle of orange magic and threw it, not at Jeanne, who had leaped off the rooftop, but at the weapons.

Then, Solomon let himself fall over the railing, tumbling toward the ground below.

The Ring of Raggadorr Solomon had cast was a modified version by the sorcerer supreme. Although it no longer possessed its powerful defensive capabilities, it was extremely sharp against physical objects. The ring spun across the rooftop, slicing deep gashes into each missile. As the insulation (if these missiles had any) and metal casing were cut open, the solid fuel inside was instantly ignited by the intense heat.

Flames erupted from the missile casings, rapidly spreading to engulf the entire missile launchers. The launchers, once standing like a crown of thorns, now spewed flames skyward, like an Olympic torch, the blazing inferno lighting up half of Sun Island.

Even if Jeanne had tampered with the missiles, there was no way they could be launched now. The fuel would burn up before it ever reached the engines. Solomon's next task was finding a way to land safely. The building was tall enough to give him time to chant a spell. Although he was out of feathers, he had other methods to descend without harm. A simple cantrip would suffice.

"Boya, why do you always put yourself in such dangerous situations?" Before Solomon could finish chanting, he felt strong arms wrap tightly around his waist, squeezing the air out of him. His spell was interrupted as a familiar figure embraced him from behind. For the second time, Solomon, in his 14-year-old body, experienced the overwhelming sensation of "heavy pressure."

"I thought you were still fighting," Solomon sighed in relief.

That voice was all too familiar. Even as he fell, Solomon abandoned the idea of continuing his spell. After all, no one could expect a soul that had been calm for decades to remain focused in such a situation. Before Bayonetta could use her unique witch magic, manifesting butterfly wings to slow their fall, they both crashed through a massive mirror of shattered glass suspended in mid-air and vanished.

Baron Mordo was always methodical in his actions. As one of the sorcerer supreme's right-hand men, he was also the person Solomon least wanted to encounter. His stern, piercing eyes seemed to silently say, "Go ahead and explain yourself, but I won't believe you." His adherence to the Ancient One's orders bordered on rigid, and he was the most loyal patron of Kamar-Taj's kitchens. Of course, his skin color may have made his eyes seem more prominent, though no apprentice would be foolish enough to test the truth of that theory.

"Good evening, Brother Mordo," Solomon greeted him as Bayonetta let him go. Mordo's expressionless face gave away no emotion, but it was clear he was not in a pleasant mood. Behind him stood the demon Phoenix, one wing extended, beneath which peeked a pair of short legs and a fluffy gray tail.

"The sorcerer supreme instructed me to bring Cereza here," Mordo stated flatly.

"Mummy!" A little girl emerged from under the golden-red wing, clutching a doll and an utterly miserable gray cat. As soon as Cereza saw Bayonetta, she rushed forward and clung to her, tightly hugging her leg despite the witch's obvious disdain.

Though Bayonetta's expression was one of extreme annoyance, she allowed Cereza to cling to her. During her battles with the angels, she had frequently heard Balder's voice, reminding her that to uncover the truth, she needed to protect Cereza and bring her to the center of Sun Island, Isabel Tower. Cereza was the key to solving the mystery. Originally, Bayonetta had asked Solomon to bring Cereza, and now the actions of the sorcerer's conclave aligned perfectly with her plans.

Mordo's timely intervention with the Mirror Dimension wasn't just to prevent Solomon from falling to his death—it was also because Solomon had overestimated the missiles' safety. Even from within the Mirror Dimension, they could see the top half of the building collapse under the explosion's force, with still-burning missiles crashing into the ruins and causing secondary blasts. The skyscraper, made of reinforced concrete, was like a soda can stuffed with firecrackers, completely crumbling under the impact. The series of explosions utterly destroyed the foundation, and the towering building collapsed like a falling giant. Even the torrential rain couldn't stop the dust cloud that billowed up.

Several nearby buildings, caught in the blast radius, also suffered varying degrees of damage, revealing twisted steel and broken concrete—this included Isabel Tower. Glass windows on more distant buildings shattered from the shockwaves, and a rain of broken glass descended across all of Sun Island.

Cereza clung even tighter to Bayonetta in fear.

By some strange fortune, the island was devoid of civilians—only Ragna Church devotees populated it, thanks to the heightened security measures for the Easter celebrations. The Ragna followers had gathered near the island's largest cathedral, awaiting the coming resurrection, so there were no casualties from the explosion. But if the sage's plan succeeded, their survival wouldn't last long. The fanatical atmosphere had already influenced everyone's thinking, and even life-loving Ragna devotees might soon take up blades to end their own lives.

As for Solomon, he didn't particularly care about the fate of the Ragna Church followers. After all, they were ready to sacrifice their souls. Even if they stopped this resurrection, there would always be another attempt. Kamar-Taj wasn't their babysitter, watching them every second. Mordo made no comment about the impending deaths of the Ragna faithful, and neither did Bayonetta, for the next matter at hand was far more important.

"Thank you, Brother Mordo," Solomon sighed. He suddenly felt the challenges of evocation magic and the urgent need to improve his spell levels. Evocation spells, straightforward and raw in their power, would be critical in his future battles.

"Now for the sorcerer supreme's next orders," Mordo said. "She has permitted you to continue with the upcoming task—but only if you manage to keep yourself alive."

"I'll do my best," Solomon said, glancing at Cereza clinging to Bayonetta's leg (along with the fat cat squashed in between). "I have to make sure the final mission is completed, right?"

"I don't know what orders the sorcerer supreme gave you," Mordo said, eyeing Bayonetta warily, "but letting a witch handle this instead of Kamar-Taj's full force… You should know your limits. That witch won't be looking out for you."

"I'm not that stupid. I know when to run," Solomon waved a hand dismissively. "Now, send us to Isabel Tower. My magic reserves are nearly spent."

"The sorcerer supreme anticipated that," Mordo said, handing Solomon a vial of potion. He then began casting a spell to open a portal. "Remember this…"

"Stay alive, I got it," Solomon interrupted with a wink. "You'd make a great babysitter, Brother Mordo."

The portal Mordo opened led to a gap in the shattered remains of Isabel Tower. Bayonetta, holding Cereza's hand, stepped out of the Mirror Dimension, followed by the ever-faithful Phoenix and Cheshire, the gray short-haired cat. Solomon followed closely, stepping onto the hallway littered with shards of glass, the crunch of broken glass echoing beneath his feet.

As soon as he left the Mirror Dimension, the metallic tang of the rain hit his nose once more. The glass shards reflected the distant firelight, glowing like embers scattered across the marble floor.

Just as he stepped out, his phone rang again.

"Did you see that explosion?!"

 Luca's panicked voice came through. "If I hadn't taken cover in Isabel Tower, I would've been—"

"I did it," Solomon admitted casually.

"You! You actually… Well, you did a good job. At least no one got hurt. Except me—I almost died!"

"Enough whining," Solomon replied. "There's a bigger fight coming up. I suggest you run while you still can. No one will be able to protect you when it starts."

"You're as cold-blooded as ever, Solomon," Luca huffed. "But I've come this far for the truth. I can't just give up now! Of course, I don't want to die in some meaningless explosion either…"

"Well, good luck," Solomon said into the phone. "If you survive the next battle."

"What?" Luca sounded confused, but Solomon wasn't about to explain. He hung up the phone, stepped forward, and moved Cereza behind him. Bayonetta halted as well, staring ahead.

There, standing before them, was a woman in red leather—the very same Jeanne who had escaped the rooftop explosion.

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