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Chapter 82: Drain The Dark Witch! The World Is Upside Down!
🕑 Added 2025-03-14 16:36:37 +0000 UTCUnder the coercion of magic, the stone pillars were shattered at an alarming rate.
Naturally, Aaron couldn't use his body to resist.
He wasn't stupid.
Although this level of offense couldn't deal a fatal blow to him, he had no habit of standing still and taking unnecessary damage.
Aaron rubbed his hands together, and a golden circle appeared before him.
The powerful stone pillars, imbued with Agatha's magic, collided with it, only to be transformed into countless butterflies fluttering through the air.
"What?! Did I see that right? The Ancient Body of Hogarth!"
"He... he learned it!"
"How is that possible?!"
Wong suddenly screamed.
He had assumed that Aaron had temporarily given up because the magic was too difficult.
Yet, in such a short amount of time, Aaron had mastered it! And he wielded it with such ease.
"The Ancient Body of Hogarth? That magic?!" Mordo turned his head, seeking confirmation.
"What else could it be?" Wong responded, his voice filled with disbelief. "Agatha's magic is nothing compared to that! As long as that god remains unwavering, he is invincible in the sky! No magic can harm a single hair on his head before his power is exhausted!"
Wong frantically clutched what little hair he had left. It was incomprehensible how someone could learn the Ancient Body of Hogarth so quickly.
That spell was renowned as absolute defense!
"Did you know? Just before Kaecilius came, he took the spellbook, and when he returned, he was like this!"
Wong pointed to the battle unfolding in the mirror dimension.
The fluttering butterflies were both beautiful and humiliating.
Mordo remained silent.
For a moment, he was completely speechless.
"As expected of the God of Magic... even Kamar-Taj's techniques are within his grasp!"
Agatha was equally stunned by Aaron's display.
She had dealt with Kamar-Taj before—how could she not recognize their signature magic?
Even with her eyes closed, she could feel the distinct fluctuations of the spell.
Aaron wasted no words.
He removed his protective magic and let himself free-fall.
A portal appeared, taking him away.
When he reappeared, he was directly above Agatha.
Although she had been on high alert, she still failed to react in time. She barely managed to adopt a defensive posture.
But her feeble attempts at combat were no different from a street thug before Aaron, whose fighting skills were nearly maxed out.
With a swift kick, he knocked Agatha’s hands aside, then grabbed her throat with one hand, lifting her like a ragdoll.
"Agatha, today I will show you that magicians don't have to rely solely on magic. Sometimes, fists are far more useful."
With that, Aaron swung her and slammed her hard into the ground.
A searing pain shot through Agatha’s entire body.
Before she could react, Aaron had already lifted her by the ankle and smashed her down again.
Again. And again.
Aaron continued this brutal assault for several rounds, still unsatisfied.
Along the way, he even transmuted gravel into solid rock to maximize the damage.
The ground beneath them shattered under the repeated impact. The sheer force sent debris flying like shrapnel.
"Pfft—!"
Even though Agatha had used protective magic to mitigate the damage, she still sustained significant injuries.
Judging by her dazed expression, she hadn't yet recovered from the overwhelming attack.
Damn it!
Is he really the God of Magic?
Why does he seem more like the God of War?!
Are all Asgardians this barbaric?
Even with the divine presence of the so-called God of Magic, aren't the other gods even more brutal and ruthless than demons?
Finally catching her breath, Agatha looked into Aaron’s eyes, and a trace of fear flashed through her mind.
This can't go on.
If she didn’t fight back, he would beat her to death with sheer physical strength alone!
Magicians should battle with magic.
"Your defense is impressive, and your reflexes are sharp. If it were anyone else, they wouldn’t have had time to cast a protective spell."
Aaron’s voice carried genuine admiration.
This dark witch was no ordinary opponent.
Her reaction speed was undoubtedly at the master level.
Living for hundreds of years had its advantages—her combat experience was vastly superior to most.
"What a savage god!"
"He's more of a beast than me!"
Logan muttered in fear after watching the battle unfold.
Aaron's fighting skills surpassed everyone present.
Every move was precise, without a single wasted motion.
It was seamless.
Logan was certain that if he were in Agatha’s place, he would have already fallen.
At the same time, he was surprised by Agatha’s endurance.
Under normal circumstances, any other person would have been beaten to death by now.
Yet Agatha, a magician, had managed to survive it all.
Impressive.
"Professor, are you sure they called him the God of Magic?"
"Because to me..."
"It’s correct," Charles confirmed before offering a theory. "Perhaps this is Asgard’s fighting style? Even magicians might learn warrior techniques."
"But he looks more professional than me!"
Scott had undergone professional combat training, and ordinary people were no match for him.
Yet before the God of Magic, he seemed insignificant.
That speed and technique—Aaron was more professional than a professional like him.
"Maybe he was a warrior before he learned magic?" Charles speculated, though he found the idea implausible.
Why would the God of Magic train as a warrior instead of dedicating himself to magic?
Yet Aaron’s performance was undeniably impressive.
Agatha had made up her mind not to let Aaron get close again.
She quickly fired two magic bullets to block his movements before soaring into the air.
Opening her arms, eerie purple energy spread from her body, dyeing the clouds above.
The sky darkened, bathed in violet light.
"The entire world is under my magic!"
"Your every move is within my sight!"
"Let’s see how you fight me now!"
Agatha laughed maniacally.
As long as she could force him to use magic, she could absorb it and grow stronger.
But Aaron didn’t react as she had hoped.
He simply raised his index finger.
Magic surged from his body—not in wild, chaotic bursts like Agatha’s, but forming into a monstrous sea of flames.
The inferno consumed the sky.
Agatha’s summoned phantom, forged of dark magic, was instantly engulfed.
The sea of fire continued expanding, consuming her magic barrier bit by bit.
"Why can’t I absorb it?! This isn’t magic!"
"You transformed magic into fire!"
"No... there’s something else!"
"That red energy..."
Agatha’s eyes widened in horror.
Deep within the flames, a phoenix-like figure roared at her.
"Phoenix?!"
Jean stared at the inferno, and for a brief moment, an even fiercer phoenix flickered in her own eyes.
A surge of the Phoenix Force stirred within her subconscious.
She struggled to suppress it.
"He possesses the Phoenix Force?!"
"No... it's different from the one inside Jean..."
"His phoenix lacks a will—it’s empty, like an imitation."
"But Jean’s Phoenix Force... is wild, full of rage!"
Charles took a deep breath, his mind racing.
Aaron wasn’t just a magician.
He was something else entirely.
Charles took a deep breath, his mind racing.
He was one of the few who had witnessed the power hidden in Jean’s subconscious.
That encounter had occurred when Jean was still young, yet even a single glimpse had left a lasting impression on him.
It was a god—the world destroyer Phoenix, the entity that annihilates everything.
The phoenix within the sea of flames conjured by Aaron, while visually identical, felt more like an unconscious pet. Its oppressive presence was nowhere near as overwhelming as Jean’s.
Even so, for Agatha, it was still an unstoppable and terrifying force.
"Although it absorbed only a faint trace of the Phoenix Force, barely replicating its abilities, it is still a far cry from the true Phoenix Force," Aaron calculated silently.
The Phoenix Force was not magic, meaning Agatha could not absorb it.
Aaron’s version of the Phoenix Force, however, was a special energy attack created by the materialization of magic—something that transcended the limits of ordinary magic.
In essence, as soon as magic materializes into a physical attack, its original nature aligns with what it imitates, making it no longer classified as magic.
Simply put, Aaron had the perfect counter to Agatha.
Knowing Agatha’s abilities, he would never make the mistake of engaging in a direct magic duel with her.
Right now, he was attempting to replicate the Phoenix Force.
So far, he was only halfway there.
The Phoenix Force was of an extremely high level, and his LV6 physical magic couldn't fully reproduce its essence.
But it was more than enough to deal with Agatha.
She watched in horror as the phoenix, surrounded by a raging sea of flames, closed in on her.
Desperately, she summoned her magic to block its advance.
Yet, the moment her magic touched the phoenix, it ignited—then was assimilated, becoming part of the very flames that threatened her!
Assimilation?
Why is my magic being assimilated?!
Agatha was dumbfounded.
If Aaron had simply overpowered her magic, she would have understood.
But why was he able to absorb and integrate her magic into his attack?
By all logic, she was the one who should be absorbing his magic!
Was the situation completely reversed?
Although she couldn’t grasp what was happening, Agatha had no time to ponder. She had to figure out how to counter the Phoenix Flames.
But no matter how she analyzed it, there was no solution.
Gritting her teeth, she turned and fled.
"God of Magic, you may have won this time, but remember—I will return!"
"Next time, I will finish what I started!"
"Running away? You think I’ll let you?"
Aaron had no intention of letting Agatha escape.
She was a significant threat.
She had already tried to absorb his magic—and worse, she was likely in possession of the Darkhold, a tome filled with Chthon’s forbidden magic.
If she got her hands on an even more dangerous spell, she would become an even bigger problem.
Without hesitation, Aaron opened a portal, effortlessly closing the 10,000-meter gap between them.
Agatha smirked, her expression revealing a well-laid plan.
The magic she had been secretly accumulating erupted.
"I’ll admit your magic power is overwhelming…"
"But you fell for it!"
"Die!"
Facing her ambush, Aaron remained completely unfazed.
With a mere wave of his hand, the space in front of him shattered like glass.
Agatha’s attack was absorbed into the Mirror Dimension, where, without a guiding force, her magic scattered aimlessly.
"Damn it! Mirror Dimension! Those Kamar-Taj meddlers are always in the way!"
"One day, I’ll destroy Kamar-Taj and Sorcerer Supreme along with it!"
Agatha spat out her threat viciously before turning to flee again.
"Don't go just yet," Aaron called casually.
"We should have a proper talk."
"Talk?! I have nothing to say to you!"
Agatha kept flying, refusing to look back.
"Oh? Why not? I think we should discuss something important—like you handing over all your magic to me."
"…What?"
Agatha looked at him as if he were joking.
She was the one trying to steal his power, and now he was the one coveting hers?
Was the world truly upside down?!
Before she could react, she felt herself being pulled backward.
A powerful force seized her, and suddenly, her magic began to drain away!
"Impossible! You’ve mastered dark magic too?!"
"No… Your method is different from mine!"
"Who the hell are you?!"
For the first time, true fear gripped Agatha.
It was a terror she had not felt in centuries.
It reminded her of that fateful day when her mother and the coven had bound her to a stake, preparing to execute her.
Back then, she had turned the tables by draining their magic and life force.
But now, she was the one being drained.
And worse—her opponent knew exactly how to counter her abilities.
Throughout the battle, Aaron had deliberately avoided direct magical attacks, denying her any opportunity to absorb his power.
Now, she was helpless.
For the first time in centuries, Agatha felt powerless.
"No! No! You can't do this!"
"I know magic! So much magic!"
"Spells beyond mortal comprehension, knowledge linked to countless ancient secrets!"
"The God of Dark Magic is watching! The demons are already lurking, waiting for their chance!"
"You will need me! I can help you! I will serve you—I swear!"
"Great God of Magic, I will be your most loyal follower! Just show mercy and spare me!"
Moments ago, Agatha had been brimming with arrogance.
Now, she was nothing more than a coward, desperate to survive.
She feared death.
She feared losing her power.
She still had unfinished goals, desires unfulfilled. She didn’t want to become powerless—or worse, perish.
"Wait! I can offer you something!"
"The Darkhold! It contains all of Chthon’s ancient black magic!"
"You need it! With it, you’ll become even stronger!"
"It even records a forbidden spell… one that holds the power to create everything!"
Agatha trembled as she spoke—the embodiment of pure terror.
But Aaron was unmoved.
If she had dared to attack him, to try and drain his magic, then she had to be prepared for the same fate.
She had only herself to blame.
Absorbing magic?
She would now experience what that truly meant.
Aaron’s LV7 Energy Absorption ability allowed him to siphon magic from others at will.
Having already absorbed the Casket of Ancient Winters, his magic reserves far surpassed anything Agatha had amassed over the centuries.
She was nothing compared to him.
And now, with her will shattered, she no longer had the strength to resist.
Strands of purple magic were pulled from Agatha’s body, flowing into Aaron.
The process was swift—far beyond what an ordinary magician could comprehend.
His already vast magical reserves surged even higher.
Agatha had been powerful, second only to himself and the Ancient One.
But now, her power was his.
Aaron’s gaze was cold, devoid of mercy.
Unlike Wanda, who had left Agatha with a fraction of her power, Aaron had no such kindness.
He wouldn't imprison her in a powerless, miserable existence.
He wouldn't care about whatever consequences her death might bring.
A dark witch like her…
Deserved nothing.
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