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Chapter 229: Ch.228 Magic Prince

Monarch\'s father was a British missionary who, in 1620, took his family to India. Unfortunately, things didn\'t go well. In the rainforest, they were attacked by a primitive tribe that worshipped an evil god.

Monarch\'s parents were sacrificed to the deity, but he was just a baby at the time. Since they didn\'t need such a small amount of flesh for the ritual, the tribe\'s chief spared him.

An orphan, raised as a devoted follower, was the perfect candidate to mold into a loyal servant.

As he grew up, Monarch\'s magical talents became increasingly apparent. The tribe\'s chief was skilled in voodoo and black magic, but even he was soon outmatched by Monarch.

Eventually, the chief considered passing his position to Monarch. After all, the stronger the tribe\'s priest who served their god, the greater the blessings the tribe would receive.

Monarch grew up in the jungle tribe, surviving in the harsh environment and learning a vast amount of occult knowledge. He had extensive experience dealing with black magic and even learned some voodoo.

Because of frequent raids and battles with other tribes and witch doctors, his combat ability was exceptional. He became the one who eliminated the most enemies and brought home the most spoils of war. Slowly, the people of the tribe began to follow his commands.

However, on the night before he was to take over as chief, he had a dream in which a god revealed the truth to him. His biological parents had been killed by the chief. He wasn\'t an orphan after all—it had all been a lie.

He was nothing more than a pawn for an evil god, a mere tool.

Monarch had spent decades growing up with the tribe. He had deep feelings for them. They had only done what was necessary to survive, just like the other tribes in the rainforest.

The elders treated him like their own child, and his peers saw him as a brother. He couldn\'t bring himself to avenge his parents, nor could he simply ignore the truth. Unable to accept the harsh reality, he fled the tribe, unsure of what to do.

With nowhere to go, he wandered the world, witnessing many things and gradually learning right from wrong. He began to feel guilty for the things he and his tribe had done.

Many things could not be learned in the rainforest. Humanity needed a complete society to flourish, and stepping out of the jungle, into society, was the right thing to do.

Monarch eventually decided to return to his tribe to take over as chief and lead them down a better path—away from the evil god.

But he was too late. The evil god had already sensed his intentions and acted ahead of him.

After Monarch left, the tribe had been disappointed but continued to survive by raiding. One day, they accidentally targeted a British colonial expeditionary force sent to India.

Although the old chief was powerful, he couldn\'t stand against a professional army of seventy thousand soldiers.

By the time Monarch returned to the rainforest, he was met with nothing but ashes. Everyone was dead.

The old chief, having used black magic for so many years, finally paid the price, and the entire tribe became collateral damage, serving as the "interest" the evil god had extracted for its loan.

The evil god manifested in front of Monarch, demanding that he serve it and help it invade Earth, or else face death.

Monarch refused, even if it meant dying. At the critical moment, the Ancient One arrived and saved him. She banished the evil god from Earth and began thinking about how to deal with these sudden and elusive threats from other dimensions.

After Dormammu\'s invasion of London in 1666, the Ancient One decided to establish the three sanctums and use Kamar-Taj as the focal point for a protective array that would shield the entire planet.

That came later, though. Monarch only stayed at Kamar-Taj briefly and didn\'t become the Ancient One\'s disciple. He felt he needed to atone for his and his tribe\'s mistakes, so he became a wandering mage, helping people across the globe.

Monarch mastered more black magic. While his talents and experience were limited to dark arts, he was confident that he could use this terrifying power for good.

After resolving his internal conflicts, his strength grew rapidly. Through a series of battles and opportunities, he gained near-immortality.

Though he appeared to be in his early thirties, Monarch was actually over 300 years old.

In the comics, that was the extent of the information known about him. In reality, Su Ming still needed to observe the situation. However, he could be sure that the foul odor wasn\'t coming from any corpses.

It was coming from Monarch\'s rabbits.

Black magic carried a heavy cost, and Monarch had to find sacrifices to offset it. Since sacrificing people was no longer an option, he had turned to animals instead.

But it wasn\'t easy. Ordinary rabbits didn\'t satisfy the evil gods.

Monarch had to pour his heart and soul into raising these rabbits, hypnotizing himself into treating them like his own children. He cared for them, nurtured them, and grew to love them. Then, after casting black magic, he would drown a few of the rabbits in water with his own hands.

These rabbits, slowly dying and filled with Monarch\'s parental affection and his self-inflicted agony of killing them, served as the barely acceptable sacrifices for the evil gods.

The evil gods enjoyed flesh and souls, but they occasionally appreciated a little human emotion as seasoning.

This was how Monarch had survived so long, and he intended to keep going. However, this process had a side effect—his mental state was not very stable.

He was extremely emotional, prone to mood swings from euphoria to despair, much like someone with a split personality.

The house likely had only one room fit for receiving guests. The other rooms, though their doors were closed, likely held hundreds of rabbits, each nurtured with Monarch\'s love and care.

If it had been up to Su Ming, he wouldn\'t have been able to handle this while continuing to do good deeds, so he had some respect for Monarch. The title of "Magic Prince" was well-deserved.

Considering he was also a centuries-old black mage, his power would be invaluable in battle. Few sorcerers on Earth could overpower him.

These thoughts merely passed through Su Ming\'s mind. He didn\'t mention anything about the rabbits.

"Thank you for your hospitality, Master Monarch," Su Ming said as he accepted a glass of whiskey Monarch handed him—likely Johnnie Walker. Unfortunately, he couldn\'t smell anything through the sensory-blocking spell. "I assume the Ancient One has already told you why we\'re here."

Monarch thought Su Ming knew his name from the Ancient One, so he smiled as they clinked glasses. British custom frowned on diving straight into serious matters—first, they had to talk about the weather and have a drink before getting down to business.

Still, Monarch understood the urgency of the situation.

"Just call me Monarch. The Sorcerer Supreme has sent me the details, and I am happy to help," he said, adjusting his attire and checking his magical tools. His smile remained gentle. "The Nazi war is unjust, and their sorcerers are hunting civilians as sacrifices, dabbling in forbidden knowledge. As you can see, I am fully prepared to join the fight."

Excellent—an incredibly powerful black mage was joining their team. With a warrior, mage, and healer forming the classic triad, they would have a solid chance against any foe, though their healing equipment was lacking.

Su Ming smiled and nodded. "Thank you. I\'m Slade, code name Deathstroke, and this is Holloway, code name Avenging Angel."

As Su Ming introduced them, Holloway removed his mask and greeted Monarch. Both men eyed each other\'s mustaches.

Holloway had an American-style mustache, with the top trimmed slightly to create space between it and his nose. Monarch, on the other hand, sported the traditional British style—thick and bushy, like a dense shrub.

Despite the difference in styles, they immediately found a bond and mutual respect, confirmed by their mustaches.