Reborn as the God-Emperor in Marvel

Some creatures can affect the environment of their habitat simply by staying in one place, like dragons. Vampires, though not as powerful, still influence their surroundings through the negative energy that drives them. As Solomon followed Barnabas up the manor stairs, he felt a chilling aura seeping down the steps, enveloping his living body. The temperature inexplicably dropped by two or three degrees. While not as drastic as entering a tomb, any spellcaster would instantly recognize such negative energy as a sign of dark magical beings residing there.

"My apologies, Vicky (Victoria's nickname), the lady of the house, can't greet you in person," said the vampire. "She's still young and requires a lot of rest."

"I understand, it's still daylight after all," Solomon nodded, but he remained on high alert, wary of being ambushed from any dark corner. He would never lower his guard because of the vampire's display of emotion. Those tragic love stories, while interesting, were just idle chatter for him. Empathizing with a vampire had never crossed his mind. The Supreme Sorcerer had drilled into him a singular concept while teaching him magic: humanism.

Aliens and extra-dimensional beings have no right to exist on Earth. Vampires, being dark magical creatures, even less so. Solomon would shed a few fake tears for them after turning them into spell components, but never while they were "alive." Had it not been for his need to gather materials to verify certain necromancy theories, he would have already imprisoned Barnabas in a mirror dimension and left him to roast under the sun. A vampire of Barnabas' rank, comparable to a progenitor, had immense value.

"After you left yesterday, the Collins family contacted the museum and purchased Angie's collection," Barnabas' cane tapped rhythmically against the wooden floor of the corridor, the sound echoing dully. Since this was a vampire's abode, the curtains along the hallway were tightly drawn, blocking out every bit of sunlight. The temperature here was much colder than on the stairs. Occasionally, rays of sunlight would manage to escape through the thick curtains, only to be devoured by shadows as if they were alive. Though Barnabas might not be incredibly powerful, his rank and supernatural nature were enough to cause anomalies in the Collins Manor.

The vampire continued, "After all, this town doesn't have a long history. Those items could only gather dust in the museum, alongside broken fishing boats and nets. We certainly can't display Native American artifacts in there. Now, they've finally realized their value."

"Mr. Barnabas," Solomon asked, "Didn't you try to study those items yourself?"

"When I was younger, after my parents died — though I never believed their deaths were accidents — I became obsessed with black magic and ancient mysticism," Barnabas glanced back at Solomon. "And indeed, I later discovered they were killed by Angie. What about your parents, Mr. Damonet?"

"I never met my parents. My mother died giving birth to me," Solomon replied.

"My condolences," the vampire said, turning a corner and bowing slightly.

"It's nothing, Mr. Barnabas. I was adopted by the Supreme Sorcerer at birth and raised in Kamar-Taj as the Sorcerer's disciple," Solomon said. "It's an honor to be trained by the most powerful mystic on Earth, a dream for many. Though, the Sorcerer's expectations of me are a bit high. I'm not convinced I can kill creatures sneaking onto Earth from lower planes."

"Lower planes?" Barnabas asked curiously. "What does that mean?"

"It refers to Hell and the Abyss, where demons and devils dwell," the young sorcerer replied with a smile. "The Sorcerer has slain countless beings from other dimensions that have invaded Earth. The title of Supreme Sorcerer alone strikes fear in their hearts. Afterward, the Sorcerer established Kamar-Taj, recruiting disciples and educating sorcerers, guarding Earth for over a thousand years."

Barnabas suddenly realized that the young sorcerer before him was much more formidable than he had thought. If he were dealing with a lone sorcerer or witch, the Collins family could easily erase them. But if this person belonged to a large organization, such a plan was no longer feasible. According to Solomon, the Supreme Sorcerer seemed to be the most powerful mystic in the world, and Barnabas didn't want to invite trouble.

All he wanted now was to quickly hand over the books and send Solomon away. Killing Solomon would no longer solve anything.

Solomon's arrival already indicated that someone had noticed the Collins family. Elizabeth's plans were now completely useless. However, Barnabas still had one question. What was the stance of Solomon's organization toward vampires? If they didn't tolerate vampires, could they actually turn them back into humans?

Barnabas didn't want his relationship with Victoria to drag the Collins family into danger — the family was true wealth. He had always remembered that and had lived by it, which is why he had used the family's treasures to revitalize the estate.

"The spells in that book, 'The Book of Vishanti,' have corresponding counterspells, but I first need to know what the curse is," Solomon offered. But Barnabas couldn't extract any satisfying answer from that.

Amidst their cautious conversation, the two finally arrived at Barnabas' library, located at the highest point of Collins Manor. There were windows on both sides, with frosted glass panes preventing anyone outside from seeing in. Thick black curtains were drawn across the windows, seemingly redundant.

In front of one of the windows stood a brown wooden desk, piled high with thick books and tattered scrolls, all covered in layers of dust. Some even had cobwebs drifting in the faint breeze from who knows where.

These items looked like they had been pulled from some long-abandoned room. Barnabas simply shrugged, indicating he was powerless to change that.

"After all, these things are gibberish to most people," he said. "The police evidence room couldn't hold them all, so they ended up in the museum. It's a miracle they haven't been eaten by moths. Mr. Damonet, I don't think you can expect the local museum to have top-notch preservation."

"Fair enough," Solomon nodded. "I'll begin identifying the items I need."

The process of identifying them was painstaking. Solomon doubted a witch exposed to vast knowledge from the "Darkhold" would have died so easily. He suspected that Angie had only acquired curses to turn humans into vampires and some black magic for extending her life. As for the knowledge within the "Darkhold," she likely had never encountered it.

Thus, Solomon meticulously flipped through the books, knowing the key knowledge might only be hidden in a page or two. Barnabas stood nearby, hesitating, until he finally couldn't resist speaking up.

"That," he pointed at a symbol written in gold on one of the books. "Isn't that Mephisto's mark?"

Solomon looked over. It was a large, golden "M." The moment he saw it, Solomon thought of fried chicken and fries.

"No…" he said, curling his lips. "I think that's probably just a fast-food logo, only the Hell's special edition."

That might count as an unexpected find.

"Seems I need to look into who's really behind McDonald's," Solomon mused silently.

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