The Darkhold?
When she heard that name, Agatha Harkness's face showed no surprise—only a knowing look.
She now understood why Ronan had come looking for her.
But that knowing look quickly turned into mockery.
"I didn't expect that, as the Ancient One's disciple, you'd follow in her footsteps."
"She once promised that Kamar-Taj would never covet my Darkhold."
"So, what—she's playing that dirty trick where she keeps her promise, but her disciple doesn't?"
Agatha Harkness's face clearly carried a trace of anger.
It was obvious she was deeply displeased with Ronan's request.
As for her words, Ronan didn't believe a single punctuation mark.
The reason was simple—standing before him wasn't some innocent soul, but an old hag who'd lived for centuries.
To put it bluntly, the number of partners she'd "unlocked" might outnumber the salt Ronan had eaten.
If someone was so honest they could live for centuries without dying, it could only mean one thing.
All the bad guys were dead!
A person can be naive and honest, but they can't stay that way forever.
Ronan secretly flashed an internationally recognized friendly gesture in his mind, but his face remained unchanged.
"Whether Master Ancient One made a promise to you or not, I don't know, I don't want to know, and I don't have the ability to meddle in your business with her."
"But if Master Ancient One knew that soon, Earth—maybe even the entire universe—would be destroyed, if there was such a promise, I'm sure she'd take it back."
Ronan glanced at Agatha Harkness, speaking coolly.
No matter what, he couldn't lose the upper hand in momentum.
Right now, the two of them seemed like equals on the surface, but in reality, Agatha Harkness would never see Ronan as on her level.
It was the pride of the strong, but also the ingrained mindset left after centuries of living.
"Heh, do all young people these days love talking big?"
"Earth and the universe destroyed?"
"Not to look down on you, but with your current abilities, can you even leave Earth and venture into the wider cosmos beyond?"
Agatha Harkness sneered, just as Ronan had guessed—she didn't think much of him.
Ronan shook his head—with his current power, he could leave Earth, sure, but without oxygen, the outcome was obvious.
He wasn't one of those main Marvel characters who could explore any planet without needing oxygen gear, whether human or alien.
"Then I suggest you leave now, or by the time the Ancient One comes looking for you, whether you're still alive—or what I've turned you into—don't blame me."
Agatha Harkness eyed Ronan's body—hmm, it'd make a decent puppet, maybe a manservant.
Ronan's face darkened—this old hag was definitely thinking something shady.
"A while back, a massive surge of energy hit Earth—you felt that, right?"
Weighing their respective strengths—and the fact that this was her turf—Ronan decided to reason with her.
"Indeed, but I couldn't tell who unleashed that energy."
Agatha Harkness didn't deny it.
Ronan couldn't help but roll his eyes—this old hag, nine out of ten sentences were lies.
Even that one truthful sentence was utter nonsense!
"I know full well you must've sensed that energy was chaos magic erupting."
"And I know you've got your own ambitions for chaos magic, but that doesn't matter to me."
"I just want to tell you that the chaos magic that day didn't come from our universe's Wanda."
"That energy came from another universe."
Ronan shook his head—Agatha Harkness had been seeking a breakthrough, having exhausted nearly every path available to her.
For a witch, that was an agonizing thing.
So, she'd once tried to study at Kamar-Taj, hoping to find a new way.
But the Ancient One had turned her away.
Ronan knew all this from Kamar-Taj's records—for a dangerous figure like Agatha Harkness, capable of summoning evil gods, Kamar-Taj still showed her respect.
And the reason Ronan dug into this was simple—when tracking down someone more villain than hero, not fully understanding them was the dumbest move.
"What a joke—another universe?"
"Another universe's Wanda, how could that…"
But before Agatha Harkness could finish, the sneer on her lips froze.
She wasn't an idiot—she instantly grasped what Ronan meant.
He'd mentioned the Darkhold earlier, then another universe's Scarlet Witch—so there had to be a connection.
And what was that connection?
No doubt, it was tied to the Darkhold.
As it happened, Agatha Harkness, who'd read the full Darkhold, knew of a spell called "dreamwalking."
It let your consciousness, your soul, cross into the body of your parallel-universe self.
And the cost was…
"Looks like you've figured it out."
Seeing fear start to creep onto Agatha Harkness's face, Ronan was secretly delighted.
Go on, say it—come on, why'd you stop talking?
I was dying to hear your next line.
At that moment, Agatha Harkness's expression could be described as spectacular.
Fear, confusion, unease—even a flicker of realization.
In short, it was pretty ugly, to say the least.
"Why should I believe you?"
After a long pause, Agatha Harkness finally managed that one sentence.
Ronan shrugged, looking completely unbothered.
"Whether you believe me or not doesn't matter—I can't beat you, and I can't force you to believe me."
"But as long as Master Ancient One believes me, that's enough."
"If she finds out about this, it won't be me coming to you—it'll be her paying you a personal visit."
Ronan said with a grin.
Hearing this, a flash of anger crossed Agatha Harkness's face.
Because after mulling it over, she caught the subtext seeping through his words—two little words.
Threat!
A blatant, barefaced threat!
But Agatha Harkness had no counter.
Because she clearly saw that after Ronan finished speaking, he pulled a small necklace from his pocket with slow, exaggerated movements and slipped it around his neck.
Hanging from that necklace was something resembling an eye.
Agatha Harkness recognized it—one of Kamar-Taj's sacred relics, the Eye of Agamotto.
And she'd also seen that when the Eye of Agamotto opened, it revealed another thing Kamar-Taj had long guarded.
The Time Stone!
F***!
After centuries of being a lady, Agatha Harkness couldn't hold back and let out a curse.
She never imagined the Ancient One valued this disciple so highly!
Not only did she boldly entrust Kamar-Taj's authority to this kid, but she'd even handed over the Eye of Agamotto and the Time Stone!
The Ancient One…
Thinking of that "old friend's" face and those all-seeing eyes, Agatha Harkness snuffed out her last shred of hope.
She couldn't kill Ronan.
Forget whether she could even break through the Time Stone's limits and take him out in a temporal gap.
The real issue was that if Ronan wasn't an idiot, he'd have told his allies where he was going before acting.
After this brief "clash," the idea that Ronan was a fool had been chucked out the window by her second sentence.
And if anything happened to Ronan, Agatha Harkness would be suspect number one.
As long as she was on Earth, she'd never escape the Ancient One's judgment.
Leave this universe, then?
Agatha Harkness hadn't even considered it.
If she had other options, fine—but her only trick was "dreamwalking."
She knew the consequences of dreamwalking, knew its limits.
Even if every parallel universe had an Agatha Harkness, she could keep dreamwalking between them before a universal collision.
But could she guarantee that the guardians of every parallel universe would let her run wild like that?
If she landed in a terrifying parallel universe, she might die the moment she arrived.
So, she couldn't fight, and she couldn't flee.
Sly little punk!
Agatha Harkness shot a glance at Ronan, her anger bubbling over.
Because for some reason, Ronan had closed his left eye, peering at the Eye of Agamotto up close with just his right eye.
Like he was studying what was inside.
And his meaning was crystal clear to her—he was reminding her there was some good stuff in there.
Hiss…
Huff…
Agatha Harkness took several deep breaths, telling herself over and over, don't get mad, don't get mad.
It wasn't that she didn't want to—she just had no way out!
"What I can tell you is that the last time I knew anything about that book, it was ages ago."
"But after all these years, I don't know whose hands it's fallen into."
"The only thing I can say is that all sorts of factions are after it—countless mortals want to use it to glimpse the power of the mystic arts."
"I've heard that Joseph Bauer from the Momentum Energy Lab might know something about its whereabouts."
Agatha Harkness dragged her feet before finally giving Ronan a scrap of useful info.
Momentum Energy Lab…
Joseph Bauer…
Ronan narrowed his eyes, committing the name to memory.
But at the same time, he looked at Agatha Harkness.
For some reason, her body shivered, like she felt she'd been played.
"If I'm not mistaken, Ms. Harkness, you've got a copy of the Darkhold."
"Mind if I take a look?"
Ronan said with a grin.
Hearing that, Agatha Harkness couldn't help but suck in a deep breath.
F***!
That was her second curse of the day.
When it's casual, she's the old hag; when it's serious, she's Ms. Harkness.
And that book was her precious baby—she'd never hand it over to Ronan!
"Oh, don't worry—I'll just look, I won't take it."
Ronan added, as if he'd just thought of it.
He wasn't some sleazy guy promising to sleep together but keep his hands off.
Saying it's just a matchstick and sandpaper rubbing together, no fire—then lighting it anyway.
"Just look?"
Agatha Harkness swallowed her fury.
She didn't quite trust Ronan's words.
"I swear on Wong's life—I won't covet Agatha Harkness's Darkhold copy. If I break this, may the ancestors smite me!"
Ronan immediately swore with a straight face.
So your name's Wong…
Agatha Harkness glanced at Ronan, finding the name odd.
It was more common in a few Eastern countries, but Ronan didn't look mixed—did it really fit?
Either way, Agatha Harkness locked the name "Wong" in her memory.
If she ever got the chance, she'd make this "Wong" pay!
In the end, Agatha Harkness extended her hands, slowly casting a spell.
A reddish-brown energy lifted an ancient-looking book into the air, its slightly tattered pages inscribed with dense text.
She glanced at Ronan, then slowly pushed the book forward.
It landed in front of Ronan, flipping open to the first page.
"Kid, I may hate you and wish you'd drop dead, but I've got to warn you."
"This thing's packed with seriously terrifying dark magic—some of it can't even be called magic anymore."
"If you cast these spells, it'd be a devastating blow to Earth."
Agatha Harkness seemed to be giving Ronan a well-meaning heads-up.
Ronan glanced at her, barely holding back a smirk.
Was this a warning?
She was telling him the spells in here were powerful—some off-limits, but not mentioning the rest were fair game.
And she didn't breathe a word about sinking into Chthon's corruption after being tempted.
Typical stingy hag—definitely not a good person!
Ronan mentally sent another round of greetings to her friends and family, then fired back.
"Don't worry—Chthon can't come to Earth, and I won't let him have his way!"
Ronan emphasized "him," though it wasn't clear if he meant her or Chthon.
After that retort, Ronan didn't bother checking Agatha Harkness's reaction—he turned his gaze to the Darkhold in front of him.
This book, dubbed the Book of the Dead—what unknown secrets did it hold?