Eldritch Magic. There were countless spells within the sorcery system that could be used, but to get the job done efficiently, he had already thought of the perfect move, and it wasn't even a proper spell. Or rather, for this particular situation, he didn't need something complex or ceremonial, because the simplest use was enough, just the raw act of conjuring cosmic energy itself.
He recalled the scene from Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness, where the doctor sliced a bus clean in half with an arc of Eldritch energy shaped like a spinning disk, and that single move sparked an idea. If Stephen could do it, why couldn't he, the cheater, do the same? Surely, he couldn't be worse, at least not when it came to the simplest manipulation of the Eldritch current.
Of course, he wasn't under the illusion that he was on the level of Sorcerer Supreme Strange, even if the system had allowed him to take shortcuts in learning spells and the basic manipulation of Eldritch energy. He had spent just half a month studying sorcery, and of that, perhaps only a week had been devoted to spells, and even then, the spells he had learned were very selective and specific.
Strange, on the other hand, possessed a knowledge of spells that was near limitless. There probably wasn't a book in the sanctum libraries he hadn't read, and his arsenal, combined with the countless ways he could weave and implement them, was what made him such a powerful sorcerer. And that wasn't even counting the Time Stone and the Eye of Agamotto.
But if it came down to shaping and directing raw Eldritch energy, he was confident he could match the doctor's level of control. By now, he had developed a solid understanding of the levels the system set for levels of proficiency. And advanced level, in simple terms, was a very, very high level of mastery, which was exactly where his current level of Eldritch Meditation stood.
Having said that, he hadn't really pushed his advanced-level Eldritch energy manipulation in practice either. Well, until now. Wasn't this the perfect setup?
As he floated in the middle of this apocalypse, surrounded by thundering mushroom clouds and burning, exploding titanic-sized spaceships, he found himself wanting to replicate that same feat Doctor Strange had done so casually, only this time on a far grander scale.
"Honey, make sure you get a good shot of my handsome face. I'm about to go all out."
After sending a mental message to Isabella, he got into position, spread his legs, and slowly lifted his hands, letting them move apart with his fingers curling as if drawing something in the air. Soon, a golden-orange glow appeared between his palms, spinning into a ring of light that pulsed with a low hum and shaped itself into a disk with sharp edges, perhaps even sharper than any blade forged from metal.
It was one of the first things the Sorcerer Supreme had taught him: how to shape cosmic energy into a tool of choice. It could be a weapon, a shield, or, in this case, his choice was a very, very sharp disk-slash-boomerang.
Concentrating, he extended his arms further outward, fingers flexing as he shaped the energy, while from the corner of his eyes he tracked the enormous Kree battleships ahead, now in chaotic disarray since their command had been taken out of the equation.
To their credit, they appeared extremely loyal to the warmonger, with none of them activating their thrusters to escape even after Ronan had been taken out. Or it could just be that they were simply at a loss for what to do, as the escalation from one disaster to the next was far beyond what they had been trained to handle.
But that suited Maverick perfectly. At this moment, to him, they were like sheep in a pen, completely trapped and ready to be slaughtered one by one.
The ring of energy between his palms had now taken shape, and next he needed to feed it more power. He pushed his hands forward, and as his mind focused, the disk began to swell—slowly at first, then faster—expanding outward, thrumming with energy, stretching and stretching until it reached a diameter of about a hundred meters, a monstrous spinning blade of execution looming above his head.
Sparks of Eldritch energy crackled along its edges, and light reflected off the hull, glinting like molten gold across its armored surface. He then tilted his head slightly, adjusting the disk's angle with subtle wrist movements to ensure it would strike the prey perfectly before releasing his hold.
Although it wasn't a complex spell, shaping something this large and powerful was no small feat, and he could barely spare a thought for anything else. But the tool of his choice was now ready, and it was time to unleash it.
Leaning into the motion, he pushed his hands forward as if he were moving something heavy, slowly and steadily. And with the push, the monstrous blade of pure energy looming over his head also began to arc through the air, likewise, slowly at first.
"Haa!"
A cry of power escaped his lungs. Gathering all his strength, he jerked forward, and the spinning monstrous blade also, as if released from a slingshot, streaked forward cutting through the sky like a boomerang. The sound of the energy, the spin of burning air, echoed like a piercing shreeee, spreading wide, and everyone paused, unable to resist turning their heads.
The hum then became a roar as the disk struck its first target. Like a razor slicing steel, it carved through the immense structure with surgical precision, cutting it cleanly in half as effortlessly as a sharp knife through butter.
SHREEE!
Everyone, friend or foe, whether present or watching from afar, widened their eyes. It was simply… too clean.
The titanic spaceship split down the middle, molten metal spilling from the wound, and just a second later—BOOOOM!—it exploded completely, sending a shockwave of fire and force tumbling across the battlefield.
But the disk of execution did not stop there. Maverick's hands moved continuously, fingers at precise angles, guiding the monstrous blade toward the next target, and, just like the previous one, it cleaved the ship cleanly in half.
BOOM! Exploded.
BOOOM! The next one.
BOOOM! Again.
BOOOM! And again.
"What sort of madness is this magic?" Takamura exclaimed in his own language, apparating immediately to a safe distance and taking cover from the aftermath, his eyes wide with a mix of fear and reverence as he watched the efficient execution unfold like a chain reaction. He, too, had taken down a few of those behemoths, but never with such speed or precision.
The others, who had been raining explosive spells one after another, also apparated to a safe distance and simply watched in reverence—some with awe, some with fear, and some with pride.
Dumbledore couldn't help but raise an intrigued brow. Sorcery was not foreign to him, and he had already seen Maverick create the portal several times since the operation began. Of course, he was curious and had more than one question to ask, but that could wait until all of this was over. Regardless, what he had just witnessed was truly eye-opening, and once school started, there would be plenty of time for a proper chat with the young man, who clearly had some intriguing tales to tell.
SHRRRREEEEEEEEEE!
BOOOM! BOOOM! BOOOM!
One after another, without pause, like a saw of infinite sharpness and endless energy, everyone watched with wide eyes and shock as Maverick's single attack shredded Ronan's massive fleet, ripping through the ships like they were nothing but paper under a blade of fire.
Explosions tore across the sky, sending shockwaves that rattled the ground and shook the air. Before long, a blazing ribbon of fire and smoke stretched across the horizon, blotting out the sun for miles and turning the battlefield into a storm of light and heat.
---
IMPOSSIBLE! IMPOSSIBLE! IMPOSSIB—
Boom! Crack... Woosh!
Like everyone else, Ronan and Danvers had also paused their fight, watching the unimaginable chaos and total destruction unfolding before their eyes. While Danvers watched with awe and a sense of satisfaction, Ronan, on the other hand, had completely lost his mind as he witnessed the complete annihilation of his entire fleet.
He could not comprehend how or why it was happening. Or perhaps his subconscious simply refused to accept it. His fleet—his proud, all-powerful fleet that had struck terror across countless civilizations, countless worlds—how could it fall so utterly, so humiliatingly, so completely powerless here?
Here, this world, this primitive, backward world—how could he be defeated here? He screamed frantically, but Danvers, after enduring the first few cries of madness from the warmonger, had enough.
While Ronan wallowed in his misery, she lunged to his side like a streak of lightning, aiming for a decisive strike. Perhaps, triggered by Maverick's spectacular fireworks, she also wanted to end it in a single blow. When she lunged, she unleashed everything into the punch, smashing it squarely against the Kree clown's jaw and cracking a solid chunk of his teeth.
And, coincidentally, or perhaps deliberately, the force of the punch sent him flying like a cannonball... straight toward Maverick.
---
Booom… Booom…
Booom… Booom… Booom… Booom…
Huff… huff.
Bright orange light from the titanic explosions illuminated Maverick's face as he gasped for breath, looking like someone who had just finished a marathon. Even the smile on his lips showed he was deeply satisfied in that moment, much like a runner who had finally crossed the finish line.
But it wasn't tiredness or fatigue from burning through his stamina that made him gasp. It was more like holding his breath to the absolute limit—a temporary, fleeting strain. His brain had worked overtime just now, maintaining the momentum and structure of the enormous cosmic construct until it had harvested every single spaceship.
Regardless, the job was done—and dare he say it, even better than he had anticipated.
Incredible. Truly incredible. He wondered how much stronger he would become if he took his Eldritch Meditation from advanced to mastery-level proficiency. Was that the level the Sorcerer Supreme had achieved?
And just as those random thoughts crossed his mind, his magical sense suddenly flared, detecting an incoming presence, and his head turned instinctively toward the source.
It… was Ronan. The clown he had sent hurling toward Danvers, hurling back at him like a cannonball.
But that wasn't important now. Brushing the thought aside, he drew in one last deep breath, raised his hand, eyes narrowing, and locked them on the bastard rocketing toward him.
Wooosh-Hummm!
Magical energy flared, and midair, Ronan—half his teeth missing—came to an abrupt halt, as if he had slammed into an invisible wall. What was even more unbelievable was that, despite everything, he still clung to his hammer as if it were part of his arm.
Well, not for long.
Moments later, the blue-skinned freak blinked as the stars spinning over his head faded and his vision cleared. The first thing he saw was that dreadful palm again, and a shiver raced down his spine.
But then he realized—it hadn't grabbed his face this time. No, this was worse. He was being held in place by some invisible, incomprehensible force.
"You!" His blue eyes flared bloodshot as he struggled.
It was this bastard who had caused all of it. If he hadn't been dragged from his command deck and forced to clash with that madwoman, his fleet would never have met such a catastrophic end.
Along with his fury, the hammer in his hand began to hum with power, as if echoing its master's rage. But no matter how much he struggled, the invisible force binding him didn't yield, not even an inch.
Then suddenly…
Arrrrhhhh… a guttural growl tore from his throat as a scorching pain surged through his hand. He couldn't move his head, but his pupils darted down just in time to see his own arm rising against his will, the hand clutching the hammer trembling violently.
"What… are you—"
Arrrhhhh… crack… crack… The words twisted into agony as a bolt of pain shot through his nerves. One by one, the bones in his fingers began to snap, each break forcing his grip to weaken, loosening his hold on the hammer.
The Accuser struggled, mustering all his power to resist. He glared, perhaps trying to intimidate or do something with his usual arrogant pride, but all he saw in those eyes staring back at him was complete, and cold indifference.
Never, never in his long, battle-scarred life had he been so completely humiliated like this.
All he could do was growl miserably as one hand—belonging to this monster whose name he didn't even know—reached toward him in a gripping motion, holding him with some invisible force, while the other moved, and as its fingers flexed, he felt his own breaking from the inside.
"YOU… YOU DARE! YOU DARE—"
He growled with raw malice, but even that was stolen from him when the monster made a lazy flick of his finger, and his tongue twisted unnaturally inside his mouth, sticking to the roof and leaving him unable to utter a sound—just a growl.
Arrrrrrhhhh… crack… crack.
Two more fingers broke. Now only his thumb held the hammer. Then, crack—it too shattered, and the hammer, under Ronan's red, furious, and terrified eyes, floated slowly toward the monster.
"Hmm… nice toy."
He finally heard the bastard's voice, but now more than fury, he felt terror. Without his hammer—or even with it—his subconscious, his battle-hardened instincts, screamed that he would be no match for this monster, even if fought fairly. A single motion held him captive by a force he could only describe as telekinesis, completely at the man's mercy.
Meanwhile, Danvers slowed her speed and arrived just in time to see the hammer vanish… simply disappear out of nowhere. She only raised a brow at the sight, having seen far stranger things, and turned her gaze to Maverick, who met her look.
"It's over…" she heard him say.
—————————
Author's Note:
🔥 Drop those Power Stones! 🔥
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