Chapter 318: Language! (Mid)

Behind the hill at the far end of Forest Hill Park, in a very hidden narrow cave, Schiler bent down and squeezed through the tight entrance, inside which the space suddenly opened up.

It was a natural cave formed at the foot of the hill, but its original landscape had been modified: on the left side stood a workbench and shelves, on the right lay a jumble of instruments, a single lightbulb hung from the ceiling, and spotlights provided additional illumination.

Peter, walking ahead, removed his mask and said to the others: "I don't know when I first got this idea, but I thought finding a cave as my base would be a good plan—it's truly a great spot, close to my home, convenient for changing clothes, and very discreet."

"Indeed," Steve nodded, looking around the cave. "But you should reinforce the structure. New York's bedrock isn't that stable."

"That's the next step," Peter said, helping Steve subdue the black sleeping bag he was dragging, which continued to writhe and occasionally emit black smoke.

Strange stood behind them, arms crossed, staring at the sleeping bag. "This thing is pathetically weak."

"It doesn't seem built for combat," Steve said, tossing the bag to the ground and frowning. "Neither Peter nor I used even three-tenths of our strength, and its arm broke."

Steve unzipped the sleeping bag to reveal a skeleton wreathed in black mist. He pressed one hand on its neck and grabbed one of its ribs, snapping it with a sharp crack—Peter shuddered.

After Peter discovered the skeleton, Strange and Schiler went to the site, while Steve went down to help Peter subdue it. Strange opened a portal, returned to Kamar-Taj, and brought back a book on necromancy.

Schiler walked over and joined Strange in studying the book. Facing an unfamiliar field, none of the four had expertise; Schiler and Strange chose to start with theory, while Steve and Peter planned direct experimentation.

Schiler found the book recorded numerous necromancer cases—Kamar-Taj's sorcerers had stopped many such evil practitioners from attacking villages and towns, and compiled methods to counter them.

After reading for a while, Schiler joined the experimental group, staring at the skeleton: "Let me see… adult female, around fifty, with a history of childbirth, cause of death likely abdominal trauma—probable car accident, right-handed, previously engaged in light physical labor—possibly a cleaner or kitchen assistant…"

Steve opened his mouth, eager to ask how Schiler deduced all this—but the eerie silence of the cave was already thick enough; no need for more horror stories to amplify it.

"We need more deceased samples to determine the necromancer's target. Since Peter encountered two skeletons at Forest Hill Cemetery, the next target is likely still here—you'll need to stake it out…"

"No problem," Peter hesitated. "The base has decent supplies, and if we run low, I can buy more. But I'm worried—my uncle and aunt live nearby. My aunt was already terrified by will-o'-the-wisps last time…"

Peter hated seeing his family hurt. Steve crouched, turning to Peter, also half-crouched: "So you just need to guard the source of danger. There's no other cemetery nearby for him to haunt."

Thus, Steve and Peter stayed at the base to wait for the necromancer's return, while Schiler and Strange returned to Arkham Sanitarium. Emerging from the portal, Schiler turned to Strange: "What do you think?"

"This is more complicated than we thought," Strange said, his expression grave. "First, I can confirm this power itself carries necromantic properties—its source must be tied to death."

"Once you touch that concept, it becomes especially troublesome. More importantly, I tried using white magic to dispel this death energy—but perhaps because I've studied magic too short a time…"

Strange looked at his hand, where a strand of white light suddenly appeared. "This is the novice sorcerer's 'Wrath of White Magic,' drawn from the ancient Star Spirits at the edge of the Eternal Wastes. It demands almost no cost—negligible—but is relatively weak, though easier to control…"

"When I used this to dispel the dark energy, it had no effect. So I switched to another power…"

Strange's hand now glowed with brighter white light, surrounded by fluttering leaves. "This is the radiant power of the World Tree, closer to us. Though I don't know why it's weaker than usual, the World Tree's light—symbolizing life and renewal—should dispel darkness and death…"

"But it didn't work, right?"

"Correct. That means this power's rank isn't low—it's beyond what a novice sorcerer can handle. Though I inherited part of the White Magic of Vishanti from my teacher, Ancient One, I haven't used it lightly."

Strange frowned, sat on the sofa, and said: "When two opposing yet equally powerful forces collide, they could trigger massive fluctuations. Peter and Steve have no magical resistance—they might not survive the shock."

"Then what are you planning…"

"Alright, since I'm the heir to the Sorcerer Supreme, I can't just stand by while an unknown power wreaks havoc on my turf. I think we need to return to the cemetery, find another specimen, then conduct experiments somewhere safe…"

Schiler thought for a moment but didn't object to Strange's use of "we."

He glanced at the umbrella beside his desk—the new one he'd brought from the DC world.

To obtain a powerful, indestructible, unreplaceable umbrella, Schiler decided he needed to strengthen the cursed embryo trapped inside it, so it could protect his umbrella.

Though he didn't know the relationship between dark death and curses, their natures sounded similar—perhaps they could be fused.

So Schiler and Strange returned to Forest Hill Cemetery. Strange enchanted a compass, and they followed its direction, seeking the point with the densest dark energy.

American cemeteries are well-maintained, and Forest Hill Cemetery was no exception—it was part of Forest Hill Park, and on weekends or holidays, many people walked or rested on its lawns. Yet the enchanted compass led them farther and farther from the cemetery, deeper into the forest.

"Not surprising," Strange speculated. "Necromancers need hiding places. He wouldn't build a house in the park—he's hiding in the forest."

He turned to Schiler's umbrella. "The snow has stopped. Why are you carrying that?"

Schiler used the umbrella to part the surrounding weeds, moving effortlessly; Strange, however, trudged forward, weeds scratching his expensive pants and shoes. Schiler held out his hands. Strange scowled and kept walking.

"He might be hiding in the forest, but don't you think we've gone too far?" After another twenty minutes, Schiler stopped Strange.

"This is way beyond any sorcerer's casting range. He couldn't be hiding this deep in the forest and casting spells at the cemetery."

"I think we're close enough," Strange raised the enchanted compass. Schiler saw its needle trembling violently, as if influenced by an invisible mystical force.

Suddenly, the needle clicked to a stop. Both Schiler and Strange turned toward it—a dense thicket of trees blocked all light in the night, obscuring what lay beyond.

Strange's fingers glowed as he rubbed them over his eyes; a flash of light, and his pupils became vertical, like a beast's—he had borrowed night vision from some mysterious beast entity.

Schiler abandoned sight. Invisible gray mist particles spread, transforming the world into an impossibly clear 3D model in his mind—far more accurate than mere vision.

Schiler and Strange pressed deeper into the woods. Once off the path, progress grew difficult; they spent over ten minutes covering a short stretch.

Only when fully inside the grove did Strange, who entered first, cry out. Schiler ducked under low branches and stepped in to see a charred patch of earth at the center, surrounded by towering trees—a distinct mark, like a miniature magical array.

Strange halted at the edge of the scorched ground, not advancing. Under Schiler's gaze, he slowly reached into his pocket and pulled out… a phone.

"Hello, Sanctum Sanctorum? Yes, it's me, Stephen. I've got a sigil here—seems left by a demon lord controlling death and darkness. Broadcast it via the universal frequency to the Demon Network. See if anyone recognizes it?"

loubiqu.

The operator replied quickly: "Image received. Cosmic signal transmitted. No response yet. Estimated wait: about ten minutes…"

Strange hung up and turned to Schiler with a smug grin. "Can't just keep helping them, right?"

"After N'al's invasion, some of the residual power was infused by Ancient One into the magical array beneath the Sanctum. That array broadcasts magic into the universe—similar to human broadcasting, but far more efficient. No towers or base stations needed…"

"So far, it's only been used to summon demon lords for meetings or resolve neighborhood disputes. But Nick told me he's planning a universal entertainment broadcast. He's picked a few directors and writers from prison with proven moral character—it's coming soon."