Wes stood to the side, montarily stunned.
"What the hell is going on? Why is the new Ghost Rider showing up now of all tis?"
Confused and suspicious, he muttered to himself.
Thankfully, the new arrival seed to be an ally. Wes exhaled quietly in relief.
The Water Demon, however, was trembling violently, clearly terrified. It looked like it was seconds away from fleeing—if Blackheart weren't still present, it probably would've bolted already.
"You're afraid," Wes noted calmly, imdiately sensing the Water Demon's panic.
"You don't have your master's immunity to the Penance Stare. If you leave now, I won't stop you."
Temptation flickered in the Water Demon's eyes, but hesitation remained.
"Why should I trust you?"
"I'm not a Ghost Rider. I have no interest in your sinful little soul." Wes gestured toward Blackheart, who was now being double-tead by two flaming-skulled Riders.
"But if you don't leave now, you won't get another chance."
Hell is vast and endless. If I hide well enough, Blackheart will never find again. Besides, the Earth and Wind Demons are both dead. I only followed Blackheart to beco a Greater Demon, but with things turning out like this... the risk is too damn high.
The Water Demon quickly weighed the odds. In the next second, it dissolved into a rushing stream and vanished without a trace.
Wes finally let out a long breath.
The nonstop battles were beginning to take a toll on him.
I need to reach Level 4 Wizard as soon as possible. This world is getting more dangerous by the day.
Whether it was the Marvel Universe or the Wizarding World, there were plenty of rare opportunities—but obtaining them required matching strength.
And frankly, Level 3 just wasn't cutting it anymore.
Blackheart, seeing the Water Demon flee, let out a furious roar.
"Traitor!!"
"@#￥@￥￥...&*"
A string of harsh, arcane demonic language erupted from his mouth, each syllable brimming with dark power.
Wes didn't dare take any chances. He imdiately cast a spell to seal off his hearing.
He knew very well that demonic speech could infect the soul, spread deadly curses, or worse. He had no intention of getting caught off guard.
The two Ghost Riders fought in tandem, but even combined, they were barely holding Blackheart off, relying entirely on their undead resilience.
Gradually, Blackheart began gaining the upper hand.
"You're just dogs," he laughed wildly. "And dogs can never hurt their master!"
The Riders were starting to falter. Wes couldn't wait for his magic to fully recharge.
"Petrificus Incarcerous!"
"Leviforce!"
"Tarantella!"
Three control spells fired from Wes's wand, striking Blackheart dead-on.
While they weren't devastating, they did slow the demon's movents.
"Wizard!" Blackheart bellowed in fury, his eyes blazing with rage. He charged straight at Wes.
The two Riders gave everything they had to stop him, but couldn't hold the enraged demon back.
"Engorgio!"
Wes swung his wand, enlarging a boulder into a massive, mountain-sized slab.
"Depulso!"
With another flick, the boulder crashed toward Blackheart, slamming into him and knocking him back several steps.
Carter lashed out with his flaming whip. Johnny followed with his chain. They managed to bind both Blackheart's arms, pulling back with all their strength.
Wes seized the mont to manipulate the boulder, pinning it down on his body.
But then—an eruption of surging black fire burst from Blackheart.
In an instant, the massive rock, Carter's whip, and Johnny's chain were reduced to ashes.
Blackheart now stood fully ablaze in hellish black flas. His soulless black eyes were like twin voids—bottomless, infinite—and locked directly on Wes.
"You're dead, wizard."
Wes cast several spells in quick succession, trying to stop Blackheart.
But they barely had any effect.
Don't tell … I can't even handle this guy in his nerfed state?
Wes clenched his wand tighter, his knuckles turning white as he silently cursed his own weakness.
As Blackheart closed to within five ters of him, a radiant golden light suddenly burst from Wes's chest.
A quill slowly floated out from inside his robe.
Ripples of golden light expanded rapidly like water, sweeping through the space.
Blackheart was instantly engulfed in golden flas.
"What is this?!"
Blackheart scread in agony, his voice twisted and tortured as he thrashed about and destroyed everything in sight.
The golden light gradually coalesced—forming the silhouette of the Ancient One.
"The Sorcerer Supre!"
Blackheart's eyes widened in horror. In utter disbelief, he imdiately turned around and fled without hesitation.
The Ancient One calmly said,
"This is just a projection of mine. Wes, since you've already secured the contract, don't stop halfway. Go to San Venganza."
"That goes against what we agreed on," Wes replied firmly.
"Wes, your talent and the opportunities you've encountered are enviable—but you have one glaring flaw."
"What flaw?"
"You're too cautious. Or rather, too timid," the Ancient One said bluntly.
"Whenever you're in danger, your first instinct is always to retreat and regroup until you're fully prepared before taking action again."
Wes fell silent, deep in thought.
He didn't think his approach was wrong.
If I already have the power, why should I risk my life recklessly? What's wrong with moving forward one careful step at a ti?
"Wes, the path of magic isn't always smooth or calm. You'll face problems you can't avoid. Don't let running away beco your habit."
The Ancient One's words hit like a hamr of wisdom.
Wes recalled that nearly all of his greatest gains had co with trendous risk—
Like the first fortune he made in Delicious in Dungeon.
Or the terrifying alchemy explosion that almost killed him the first ti he experinted.
After barely surviving the brutal early stages of his magical journey, Wes had grown increasingly obsessed with safety.
That wasn't necessarily a bad thing.
But… maybe he had gone too far.
"The path of magic is a constant forging of your soul and spirit."
The Ancient One's aning was clear: Wes, you've beco too conservative. Even I, an old relic of the past, can't bear to watch anymore. At this rate, no matter how special your powers are, you'll never achieve greatness.
Wes understood.
You can't grow a towering tree in a greenhouse.
"Spare the lecture," he muttered.
"If I run into sothing that puts my life in danger, I'm bailing. No reward is worth more than my life."
Recently, demonic forces seed to be stirring. Several demon gods were now casting greedy eyes toward Earth.
Every mage at Kamar-Taj was already tied up maintaining the global magical barriers.
Even the Ancient One herself had no ti to deal with a minor nuisance like Blackheart.
"Oh, right—one more thing." She added seriously,
"Until I return in person, do not let phisto get his hands on the contract."
With that final warning, the Ancient One shimred into countless points of golden light and vanished into the air.
The quill gently floated down into Wes's hand.
There was no doubt about it—he had just been dumped with another impossible task.
But still… Wes braced himself and got ready to face it.
°°°
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