Hell March (Second Update)

"Phoenix, how many devils are there?" Salomon rode Pegasus, looking down from above at the densely packed monsters beneath the cliff. He wore a full suit of silver armor, with the sacred sword and its sheath strapped to his back. Phoenix perched atop Pegasus’s head, one of its favorite places to sit. Pegasus did not mind Phoenix’s behavior at all; it even shared its whiskey with Phoenix.

"My Lord, there are many. I suggest we go around them." Phoenix tilted its head and looked down alongside Salomon. "We should leave before we are discovered."

This was Salomon’s second day in Hell, and also the second day since entering the Hell Gate from Europe. He desperately did not want to recall what had happened that day. Whenever he thought of the Witch’s gaze, he knew there would definitely be no pleasant outcome when he returned home. Thus, before he had fully mastered the Sacred Spear, he hurriedly signed up for Kamar-Taj’s first conflict with Hell—he had to go sooner or later anyway, so going early or late made no difference. Going now would even let him avoid a domestic dispute. In any case, he did not want to go back now. The Witch really would hit him, and it hurt terribly. He had no way to resist, either. He could only wait for the Witch to calm down.

The expedition into Hell was led by the older Arcanists. Without the Sorcerer Supreme participating, those Arcanists would not be of much use even if they went. At most, they could kill a few mid-ranking devils under Mephisto and disrupt the normal operations of devil society. The one who could truly settle the matter was Salomon, wielding the sacred sword and Sacred Spear.

Because the core territories of the Hell Lords were protected by anti-teleportation magic, only a sufficiently powerful spellcaster could forcibly open a portal and enter. That was beyond what the old stewards could accomplish, so the Arcanists could only march there on foot. As a deterrent, the Sorcerer Supreme, who had only appeared briefly, ordered Salomon to act alone, remain hidden, and take a detour to rendezvous with Kamar-Taj’s Arcanists, creating a safe marching environment for Kamar-Taj’s forces.

As for S.H.I.E.L.D., their mission had already ended. Danny and his mother would live under Kamar-Taj’s supervision, ensuring that Danny would not draw power from devil blood. At the time, Nick Fury had proposed an incredibly bold idea—he wanted to go into Hell with the Arcanists and see it for himself, regardless of whether he could return. All the Arcanists thought the mortal had gone mad, but Salomon knew that Nick Fury truly wanted to understand Hell, to understand a place that posed an enormous threat to humanity. Therefore, the old stewards agreed to let Nick Fury come along, though they would not guarantee his safety.

Salomon’s guide in Hell was Phoenix, the thirty-seventh demon god. Otherwise, unfamiliar with the place as he was, he would have had no way of finding Kamar-Taj’s main force.

Since this operation targeted Mephisto, Phoenix could not bring along the ten legions it commanded. Otherwise, Kamar-Taj’s actions would be seen as an attack against all of Hell, driving the other Hell Lords to unite with Mephisto. The devils’ unity was a joke. If Kamar-Taj’s Arcanists passed through the territories of other Hell Lords, those lords would turn a blind eye. They would be more than happy to see Mephisto suffer, and might even secretly fan the flames. But no matter how much the devils schemed against one another, they would retaliate whenever demons intruded upon their territory. To isolate Mephisto, Salomon could only venture deep into Hell with one horse and one bird.

Pegasus snorted, nearly throwing Phoenix off. Pegasus deeply hated Hell’s dreadful air.

The air here reeked of sulfur, as though it could ignite at the touch of any flame. When fierce winds rose without warning, there was also the pungent smell of volcanic ash and the sound of wails drifting through the wind.

Anyone breathing such terrible air for too long could easily be poisoned or fall ill. Salomon did not even dare remove his helmet here. Only upon reaching the territories of those Hell Lords did the environment improve slightly. It was not as hot there, either. Only there could he take off his helmet and wipe away the sweat and grit.

He felt certain that he reeked of sweat by now. The Endure Elements spell had been useful at first, but after they passed through some exceptionally harsh environments, such as lava pools, it had stopped working. Salomon could only wear his helmet to shut out the utterly foul air.

Hell’s expanse was infinite. Phoenix could only find a suitable location beyond the detection of all Hell Lords for Salomon to teleport to. They were still some distance from Mephisto’s territory, and they also had to avoid all manner of infernal creatures to preserve their strength.

This was a grueling march. Salomon could only hope to arrive before his food ran out. Otherwise, he would have to return to the Prime Material Plane in disgrace, then go directly to rendezvous with the group.

This was not a matter of losing face or not, but of whether it would hurt. The former came at no cost, while the latter was the Witch’s twisted amusement. He was not sure whether a safeword would work on the Witch.

A tall tower stood amid Avalon’s endless sea of flowers. At the top of the tower was a vast balcony, where two figures stood. One of them had been watching Salomon’s march from beginning to end. "You simply sent your heir into Hell like that? You should know how tempting the Seventh Throne is to your heir. What if he really sits upon it?" A white-bearded man smiled. "If he truly takes that seat, the Battle of Camlann will be repeated."

"I have already learned my lesson. How many times are you going to bring this up?" The Sorcerer Supreme glared impatiently at Merlin, who sat beside her with a cheerful smile. Even the honey cakes baked by the fairies on the table could not soften her attitude toward Merlin in the slightest. As one of the architects of Camelot’s tragedy, Merlin was still resented to this day.

"He will not take that seat, at least not now. Salomon is an obedient good child, though his interests are somewhat strange," the Venerable One said. "To him, sitting upon Satan’s Throne would mean never being able to step down again. Unless those Hell Lords took the throne, Salomon would only contend for the Seventh Throne in order to protect the Prime Material Plane."

"Don’t you think your disciple resembles you greatly?" Merlin ignored the Sorcerer Supreme’s excuse and kept smiling. "He bears the same lofty ideals, the same extraordinary talent and power, and even the same stubborn personality. I always feel that your disciple is imitating you, and that he may very well repeat your mistakes. Humanity cannot learn its lessons. There is never anything new under the sun. I feel as though your disciple was molded from clay by your own hands. He seems too perfect, too perfectly aligned with your ideals in every action."

The Sorcerer Supreme knew Merlin was not wrong. Although Salomon’s character had not been shaped solely by her, it had still been influenced by Kamar-Taj and by her. The current Salomon was practically identical to King Arthur of the past. That was precisely why the Sorcerer Supreme had adopted him in the first place. It could be said that everything he displayed now matched her original plan exactly. He truly was someone capable of taking over her work and protecting Earth.

Yet halfway through the plan, the Sorcerer Supreme had become increasingly unable to tolerate her own actions. That was why she had allowed Salomon to meet the Witch and come into contact with mundane society. She wanted Salomon to retain those ideals while becoming something that could be called a "person," rather than a tool like King Arthur.

The experienced Merlin had immediately seen Salomon’s problem. He himself had created King Arthur as a tool, and he knew the same process intimately—instilling ideals, training skills, disregarding circumstances, and making a person devote his entire being to realizing a vision. The result was a person filled with obsession. Now, because of the Sorcerer Supreme’s softheartedness, Salomon’s psychological problems were not yet so severe. The Witch’s appearance had softened his mindset even further.

"My King, you are far too conflicted. What kind of person do you truly want him to become?"