Serious People, Who is Learning Magic at Marvel?

Mordekaiser.

An ancient tyrant, a mortal man of admirable courage, a... venerable mortal.

Yes, that's what the mage said about him. He doesn't hate ambitious people, what's more, Mordekaiser promised to challenge death, and he did.

Based on this alone, he is entitled to He Shenyan's respect. But this trivial respect is not enough to make him turn a blind eye to Mordekaiser's recovery at this time. After all, there is an evil god from outside the realm watching him above his head.

The mage could feel his eyes full of interest in him. That kind of disgusting look that mixes love, desire, appreciation and destruction. In order not to be disturbed by His fiery eyes, He Shenyan even had to close his own perception.

Time to do the right thing.

The blasphemous scene in the hall began to reorganize little by little. They were assimilated by pure magic, and turned into tiny molecules in the air, their existence could not be observed by the naked eye. It won't be long before these poor people who were carved alive into works of art while they were alive will be gone with the wind. Their depraved corpses were transformed into their former pure form by the hands of the mages.

It was the only thing he could do for these people.

Among them are civilians, soldiers, dignitaries or beggars on the street. That woman was really playing with the lives of mortals purely out of her own interests, treating them as toys, or useful toys. This kind of thing is not uncommon, and He Shenyan gradually began to realize that people like himself are different.

A strong person... A strong person with a bottom line and self-discipline like him is very rare.

His complicated thinking didn't last long, and He Shenyan lowered his head expressionlessly. The scarlet magic flashed around him, and the restless dead underground were driven back. He heard a dull roar, like a piece of steel being struck by a hammer, and like the whining of the dead from the throat.

A wave of malice locked him, He Shenyan smiled, look at me?

Then I see you too!

He threw more than a dozen mental tremors towards the consciousness that locked him with his backhand. After he was sure that Mordekaiser was hit hard, he stopped moving.

As for now... time to deal with the invasion of Slaanesh.

To call it an invasion, it would be better to say that it was LeBlanc's active call. With her depraved rituals and the mortals sacrificed, Slaanesh was able to set her sights on this new place tens of thousands of worlds away.

So,

How do we do this?

While he was still thinking, a cold consciousness sent him a 'communication request'.

is the emperor.

He Shenyan sighed, "Okay, what exactly do you want to do?"

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Still that dark space.

The man changed his clothes. At this time, he was dressed like a farmer who cultivated the land. He was wearing a linen shirt, and it was even stained with soil. But here is the consciousness space, where did he come from?

Glancing at him, He Shenyan asked calmly, "What's the matter?"

"I'm here to remind you, or rather, a warning."

The man didn't care about his attitude and seemed calm: "I just want to tell you that his influence is not so easy to be clear - in some parts of the world, corruption may have begun. Plague, War, love...and those who seek wisdom and power. Be careful, mage."

"I just want to know one thing, how to get this hellish purple beam of light out of this place."

The man smiled: "About that, you don't have to worry about it."

"What's the meaning?"

"Someone is ready to help...a ​​very beautiful creature." He commented, and then the conversation changed: "It's you, Mage, I rarely see someone like you."

"Me?" He Shenyan asked rhetorically. "What kind of person am I?"

The man with an ordinary face did not answer this, he lowered his head and his expression became a little solemn. The dark space around him began to slowly change, and a spinning blue planet appeared behind him. Both the man and He Shenyan were so familiar with this planet that they could no longer be familiar.

He said slowly: "It doesn't matter - Mage, my evaluation is nothing to you, is it? You are not my sons who are not good, nor do you regard my approval as Kronos. A mad believer in life. You are a rare person who has a clear understanding of me and a clear understanding of the world."

"That's the hardest thing to do."

"I thought a human god like you would prefer everyone to believe in you."

"On the contrary," replied the Emperor. "I hope that one day humanity will completely abandon me and sweep me into the rubbish heap of history, preferably completely forgetting my existence. Don't let anyone mention a single thing about me. Only then the best."

"You're completely different from the gods I've seen."

"Have you seen many gods?"

"There are not a hundred, there are eighty. But most of them are native gods, and they don't have the power of you. They just enjoy the worship of mortals with peace of mind all their lives, and they are not concerned about the suffering they suffer. Turn a blind eye to it. That's what I hate in particular."

The Emperor nodded calmly, and said, "Religion is useless to humans."

"But you seem to be using religion to control your empire now, His Majesty the Emperor." The mage smiled narrowly, and the Emperor shook his head helplessly. Then he laughed too.

"You're right, Mage. That's exactly what I'm helpless about - what I hate is now one of the solutions that can keep humanity going. Even if it's a chronic poison, it will bring The same goes for countless corruption, wrongful convictions, and cannibalism. Religion... alas..."

He sighed deeply, and at this moment, he didn't seem to have anything to do with the emperor's identity. It's more like a middle-aged man who can't do anything about his impoverished family.

He Shenyan looked around, he knew it was just an illusion, but he didn't want to pierce it.

Countless beautiful planets are slowly rotating, and the huge fleet of mankind is slowly moving in the galaxy. People come and go freely on various planets, live and work in peace and contentment, and travel around. Longevity has been raised to a very high level by technology, and there is no serious disease that cannot be cured. People are free to choose how they want to live.

No war, no killing, no fighting. If you want to be a painter, go for it, you want to be a hover taxi driver, too. You are neither high nor low - because the oppressor is gone.

All are equal.

This ridiculous empty talk actually came true at this moment.

He Shenyan smiled and shook his head. He realized that this might be the reason why he was unwilling to burst this beautiful bubble. This scene was so beautiful that even if he knew it was just a bubble, he was reluctant to burst it. Who can refuse such a future?

The Emperor smiled and asked, "It's beautiful, isn't it?"

"Yeah...Unfortunately, this is just an impossible dream."

"It will come to pass - one day," said the Emperor firmly.

Something in He Shenyan's heart was touched, and some people just didn't know how to say good things. The more they try to express their emotions, the more hurtful what comes out of their mouths. Just like him at this time. The mage said mockingly, "Why are you so stupid?"

"It's just Yugong moving mountains, haven't you heard of this ancient myth?" The Emperor smiled lightly, paying no attention to his mockery.

He smiled and said, "Of course I know what kind of race humans are - defiant, arrogant, war-mad, indifferent to environmental damage, killing their own kind in ever-changing ways. But I also know one other thing."

"One thing you know very well, right, Mage? You know that too."

He Shenyan's mouth was tightly pursed, and he was still stubborn: "No, I don't know. You are really annoying."

The Emperor smiled: "I remember that you firmly believed that I was a god."

Their conversation could not continue, and the Emperor continued: "It was a pleasure chatting with you, Mage, but I have to leave first - they've spotted you, watch out..."

The Emperor's last words disappeared without a trace along with the shattering of the surrounding galaxy, and He Shenyan stood in the hall of the Immortal Fortress. The blasphemous aura above his head had disappeared, and his face was calm.

Only the hands are clasped tightly.

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Tyra.

Also called Earth.

This homeworld, common to all mankind, has now become a pitiful planet in a hive world, in the Emperor's palace.

On the throne in this sacred palace, you will not see anything related to the word 'Emperor'.

Instead, most people lucky enough to come here see nothing but a carrion sitting on a throne. His face and body have become rotten, and many of those rotten muscles are even hanging between his bones.

He sits on the throne, the golden throne—the countless unaltered skulls that represent the purity of mankind are piled at his feet. The sentences that recorded his sacred words were carefully pinned to his hand after being copied by the most devout nuns.

The holy incense was burning slowly, but the calming smell did not relieve his pain in the slightest. After all, he is still alive.

Numerous iron pipes glowing with a cold metallic luster were inserted into his body from the throne behind him, barely maintaining the life of this carrion. Yes, as unbelievable as it may be, he is alive.

In the unacceptable way, in the blasphemous way, in the most painful way.

The sound of the instrument rang monotonously in the palace, and there was nothing else - until at a certain moment, the carrion let out a painful moan from its throat. In the next second, dozens of shadows appeared out of nowhere, came under his throne, knelt down on one knee, and lowered their heads reverently.

But the carrion didn't speak any more, and a tear flowed out of the empty black eye socket on his head that was no different from a skeleton.

"He mourns?" a voice said affirmatively.

"Why mourning?"

No one answered.

"Emperor..." Someone said reverently, and even hoped that he could share some of the pain on himself. And the carrion did not move, as if the tears were an illusion. After all, his lacrimal gland had already been removed, so how could he cry?

A few whispers sounded, and soon faded away. The carrion stopped moving, and the shadows disappeared.

In the monotonous beeping of instruments, in the slowly burning scent of holy incense, the rotten, dilapidated and terrifying human emperor sits on his golden throne, continuing to bless in unspeakable pain Humanity.

He was happy with the pain.