The shift in Sebastian’s expression stemmed from sensing that the crystal he’d given to Namor, king of Talokan, had been shattered—meaning Namor was in grave danger. A peril so dire that the fiercely proud Namor had no choice but to crush the crystal and call for Sebastian’s aid!

Others might not know, but Sebastian was certain: the superhumans who abducted Skye were, with ninety-nine percent certainty, Earth’s Inhumans. Now, with trouble brewing among Talokan’s underwater Talokanil race, the timing was too coincidental. It was so precise that Sebastian couldn’t help but suspect someone was orchestrating these events.

“Tony, you’ll have to handle the superhuman issue,” Sebastian said. “I just got a distress signal. I need to leave immediately. We’ll discuss the rest later.”

“Sebastian, hold on, you—” Tony began.

Before he could finish, Sebastian vanished from sight.

Watching Sebastian disappear in an instant, Tony exhaled, his face tightening as he turned to Fury. “Fury, Sebastian’s got trouble on his end, and we’ve got our own mess. Isn’t this too much of a coincidence? Could these incidents be connected?”

“I’m as lost as you are,” Fury admitted. “We’ll need Sebastian’s input to clarify. For now, our priority is finding Skye and bringing her back. Everything else can wait.”

…

Tracking the shattered crystal’s location, Sebastian stepped through a swirling vortex of warped space, emerging before a cascading waterfall churning with turbulent waters.

Why would Namor, king of Talokan, crush the crystal here? Did he encounter danger in these lands, or was he pursued, forced to flee here and shatter the crystal in desperation?

Fortunately, it was nighttime, or might have drawn unwanted attention.

With a deep breath, Sebastian steadied himself. His wand materialized in his hand, and he began using it to locate the crystal’s remnants.

The crystal he’d given Namor was custom-crafted. When shattered, it left a traceable mark, extending from the point of destruction to the person who broke it. By finding the crystal’s location and its mark, Sebastian could follow it to Namor.

As the crystal’s creator, Sebastian quickly pinpointed its position. With a flick of his wand, casting Oculus Revelio, he tapped his temple. His pupils glowed faintly white, revealing a simple white raven mark on the ground, invisible to ordinary eyes.

The mark was here.

Without hesitation, Sebastian transformed into a wisp of black smoke, following the mark’s trail.

The mark led into the river’s depths. Without the crystal’s unique enchantment, tracking it would have been nearly impossible. Following the mark, Sebastian soared northward, tracing the river’s upstream path.

Near Sichuan’s mountainous region, the mark veered from the water, leading into nearby forests.

Sebastian didn’t pause, pursuing the trail. Along the way, he noticed footprints: three types—human, webbed toes, and fully webbed, non-human. They were chaotic, especially the human prints, faintly stained with blood.

With a clear direction, the rest was straightforward.

With a thought, Sebastian’s form twisted into a vortex, vanishing instantly.

Emerging from another warped space vortex, Sebastian materialized before a gravely wounded Namor, blocking his path. Facing Tiger Shark, wielding a trident sword, and a clawed, fanged humanoid shark-like figure, Sebastian waved his wand, casting Protego Maxima. An invisible barrier sprang up, repelling Tiger Shark and the humanoid shark, forcing them to retreat and widen the distance.

“Cough… cough…” Namor rasped, smirking weakly. “Sebastian Shaw, you’re late.”

“Calling your savior by name?” Sebastian retorted. “Still as rude and graceless as ever.”

“If I weren’t so badly injured, I’d teach you a lesson for that,” Namor shot back.

Sebastian glanced at Namor’s feet, noting the small wings on each. The left wing was severely damaged, fractured and bloodied. Those wings were the source of Namor’s flight, explaining why he hadn’t escaped by air, instead navigating water and land.

Clearly, Tiger Shark and the humanoid shark knew Namor’s abilities and had preemptively crippled his flight to prevent escape.

“Namor, those two,” Sebastian said. “Tiger Shark’s with the Shadow Council, which has clashed with me and my friends twice. But who’s the shark-like one? Does Talokan have people like that?”

“Talokan has no such creatures,” Namor growled. “He’s just a lab-grown knockoff, stealing my genes.”

The humanoid shark bristled at Namor’s words, visibly enraged.

Tiger Shark spoke up. “Let me introduce you. This is Sharkman, a secondary member of our Shadow Council. We’re here to hunt Talokan’s false king, Namor. This is an internal Talokanil matter. Stay out of it, or when I become Talokan’s king, I’ll have no choice but to declare war on your human nations.”

“Declare war?” Namor scoffed. “With me here, who do you think you are to speak for Talokan? There’s only one king of Talokan—me, Namor!”

As he spoke, water surged from the ground and air, coalescing in Namor’s hand into a trident of liquid, solid as steel.

Gripping a trident formed of flowing water, Namor whispered to Sebastian, “Be careful. It’s not just the two of them.”

Sebastian nodded, understanding. It made sense—Tiger Shark and Sharkman alone couldn’t have pushed the formidable Namor to such dire straits.

The two sprang into action. Namor, wielding his water-forged trident, charged at Tiger Shark. Sebastian spun, transforming into a wisp of black smoke and streaked toward Sharkman.

Seeing Sebastian approach, Sharkman sneered mockingly. From the shadows of nearby trees, figures in black ninja garb—the Hand—emerged, drawing katanas and slashing at the black smoke.

As their blades swung, a red halo erupted from the smoke, casting Petrificus Totalus and freezing the Hand assassins in place. Sebastian materialized from the swirling vortex, wand raised, and aimed at Sharkman without hesitation.

Stupefy!

These were valuable materials—Sebastian wasn’t about to kill them.

A clawed hand, covered in black scales, shot out from the side, intercepting the spell and crushing it in its grip.

The claw’s owner stepped from the darkness—none other than the Mandarin.

“It’s been a while, Mandarin,” Sebastian said.

“The shame of my severed arm is unforgettable,” the Mandarin growled.

Sebastian shrugged. “Your arm was lost to Doctor Doom, not me. Don’t think being a terrorist gives you the right to sling false accusations—I could sue you for slander.”

The Mandarin snorted coldly. His claw, which had blocked Sebastian’s spell, ignited with tendrils of black, oil-like flames. The fire surged as he waved his hand, exploding into a wave of viscous, dark flames that roared toward Sebastian.

Sensing danger in the sticky black fire, Sebastian vanished with Apparition, reappearing on open ground nearby.

The black flames consumed the Hand assassins, not fully incinerating them but seeping into their bodies through their orifices, burning from within. Their forms twisted into black skeletons wreathed in oily flames and smoke, a grotesque transformation.

If that were all, it would merely be a horrific death. But as the flames faded, the skeletons stirred, gripping katanas now cloaked in the same dark fire. With alarming speed, they lunged at Sebastian.

This magic…

The Mandarin’s magical talent was far greater than Sebastian had anticipated. Previously, the Mandarin’s focus was on immortality, relying on the Ten Rings for combat. With the Rings destroyed, their energy manifesting as a gravitational force, he’d lost that power. Yet, in just over a month, he’d not only grafted an evil-infused claw but mastered potent dark magic. His talent was astonishing.

Sebastian eyed the charging black skeletons—magical necromantic soldiers, as he dubbed them. Normal tactics wouldn’t work. He’d either need overwhelming magic to crush them or bypass them to target the caster.

With a crack, Sebastian’s form burst into black smoke, dispersing.

Silently, he reappeared behind the Mandarin, wand aimed at his back.

A pumpkin-shaped bomb dropped from above, landing at Sebastian’s feet.

Recognizing the pumpkin bomb, Sebastian waved his wand, casting Protego, erecting an invisible shield. The bomb detonated, leveling the ground around him.

As the blast cleared, the black skeletons charged again, accompanied by the Mandarin’s dark flames. Sebastian transformed into smoke, grabbed Namor—locked in combat with Tiger Shark—and soared skyward.

The Hand’s sudden appearance, the Mandarin’s startling magical growth, Sharkman’s addition, and the pumpkin bomb’s user—the Shadow Council’s strength had grown unimaginably in a short time. Sebastian wasn’t afraid to fight, but he knew Victor Doom. As friends, they understood each other; as enemies, neither would hold back. The Council likely had a countermeasure for him.

Sebastian was certain at least one or two of them held something designed to neutralize him. If he were trapped or injured, Namor’s survival would be impossible.

Atop a skyscraper in a distant city, Sebastian and Namor materialized.

Though hot-tempered and belligerent, Namor wasn’t ungrateful. Knowing Sebastian’s strength, he understood that fleeing the ambush meant there was a reason.

“Sebastian, what was the danger back there?” Namor asked.

“Call it a sorcerer’s instinct,” Sebastian replied. “I’m almost certain they anticipated me. They have something to counter me. If I’m taken down or trapped, you’d be as good as dead. The Shadow Council’s growth exceeds my expectations. Their speed in recruiting superhumans is alarming. We can’t face them alone.”

“So what do we do? Hide from them forever?” Namor demanded.

“Of course not,” Sebastian said. “But before we confront them, we need to form our own organization—one dedicated to countering the Shadow Council!”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep