Pummeling Sun Long into the pavement had been satisfying, but unease gnawed at Li Feng. Not fear of revenge—without his magic stone, Sun Long was nothing. What worried him was Balthazar. If the sorcerer thought he'd disrupted destiny, he might cut Li Feng off from the one thing he wanted most: magic.
In the film, Dave had scorched Sun Long with his first fire spell while Balthazar landed the finishing blow. Here, Li Feng had turned Sun Long into a background extra. Would Dave still chase magic? And if not, would Balthazar blame him?
Li Feng pictured himself turned into leather shoes under Balthazar's heel and decided it was time for damage control.
He scooped up a scrap of paper, thrust it into Dave's hands. "Want to see if you can summon fire? Imagine…flames in your palm. You think girls won't notice that?"
His grin was sly. He knew Dave's age, knew the lure. Magic wasn't just power—it was peacock feathers.
Dave's thoughts leapt to Becky Barnes, the girl he'd never gotten over. Ten years had passed, and fate had dropped her back into his orbit. If he could show her, he wasn't just Dave the outcast, but Dave the sorcerer…
He looked down at the scrap. First, I have to know if this is real.
Li Feng clapped him on the shoulder. "Step one: clear your mind. Step two: believe. Trust yourself."
Then he stepped back beside Balthazar, smirking. If the kid pulls this off, he's locked in. No turning away after that.
Balthazar's jaw tightened. He didn't doubt Dave—the boy was Merlin's heir. What grated was Li Feng dangling women like bait. This wasn't a game. Horvath was free, Morgana's return loomed. But for Dave's sake, he let it pass. If romance anchored him to magic, so be it.
Sure enough, after a few shaky attempts, the scrap flared to life. Dave yelped, dropped it, then shouted with delight. "I did it! I actually did it!"
Balthazar's sternness softened. Gone was the talk of leaving once the doll was safe. Instead, he said warmly, "Yes. You succeeded. If you want to go further, we need a place away from eyes and ears."
Horvath would be searching too. They needed somewhere to hide the doll—somewhere its aura couldn't be traced.
Dave's eyes lit. "I know a place."
Minutes later, a cab rattled them down to an abandoned subway terminal. Dave tugged open a rusted gate. "They used to let me run experiments here. Dangerous ones. Nobody comes around anymore."
Inside, Balthazar cloaked the doll from sight. From his pocket he drew a small tome, no larger than a matchbox, and placed it in Dave's hands. "Your grimoire."
Dave frowned. "That's it? I thought it'd be… bigger."
Li Feng's chest tightened with envy. A living book, self-updating, recording magical history in real time. He'd kill for one. Imagine: tracking Sanctum sorcerers, mapping the Ancient One's movements. Knowledge like that was priceless.
Balthazar began sketching Merlin's circles on the floor, inducting Dave as an apprentice. Li Feng gripped the stolen magic stone, watching every stroke, desperate to memorize them. But by the time the ritual closed, the patterns slipped away like water.
When Dave left to scrounge protective gear, Li Feng moved fast. He stepped beside Balthazar. "Mr. Blake. I'll trade. My unique spells for your guidance."
Balthazar folded his arms. "Unique? You sound sure of yourself."
"Of course." Li Feng's smile didn't waver. Unless the Ancient One's dropped by, I'm the only one with these tricks.
Balthazar had already been tempted to train him. Now he leaned closer. "Show me."
Li Feng inhaled, let his spirit slide free. His astral form hovered, the body left behind still breathing. The projection glanced around with ease.
Even Balthazar's eyes widened. Astral projection. Soul-related, but distinct. Something rare.
Li Feng slipped back inside, scratching his head. "There's also the mirror dimension. I haven't tested it, but I know the method. You can try it yourself."
By the time Dave returned, sealed head to toe in protective gear, Li Feng and Balthazar had struck a bargain. No vows, no formal apprenticeship, Balthazar didn't have the time. But he gave Li Feng a personal grimoire.
Because Li Feng's astral trick sparked an idea.
The mirror dimension severed the world completely. If Morgana were trapped there, no rituals, no summoning. Even if she succeeded, she'd rule a dead army sealed with her, rotting in isolation. And if astral projection could separate souls… maybe that was the key to freeing Veronica from Morgana's grip.
When Dave returned, Balthazar carved a second Merlin circle, large enough for both apprentices. He tossed Li Feng a pair of enchanted shoes. "Stay inside the circle and listen. For now, you observe. Questions later."
Li Feng didn't argue. He wasn't strong enough to.
Dave's progress was slow. In the film, he'd mastered the ion cannon in minutes. Here, it took a week before he managed even one clean blast.
At last, after blocking a fireball with a vacuum sphere, Dave declared himself a sorcerer. He wanted to celebrate—food, maybe a date.
Li Feng waved him off. He had no interest in girls. He sat alone, glaring at the sputtering ember in his palm.
A week of effort, and all he had was a tiny flame. Enough to light a cigarette, maybe scorch an ant.
He swore under his breath. "What the hell am I supposed to do with this? Burn ants?"
The clang of subway gates echoed through the empty terminal. Li Feng smirked. He knew exactly where Dave had gone—straight to Becky, eager to play the hero.
Sure enough, when a mugger had snatched Becky's bracelet, Dave had chased him down, returned it, and—high on adrenaline—blurted out an invitation. A "study session" at the abandoned station.
Li Feng scowled at the memory. Great. Dave hasn't even told her he's a sorcerer and he's already landing dates. Meanwhile, I've been a single mutt in the Marvel universe for years. I don't even remember what a girl's hand feels like—smooth or calloused.
And tomorrow, Becky would be showing up at their makeshift lab. He's the apprentice. What about me? I can't even cough up a shadow of the ion cannon. Still wrestling with a fire spark—and now I get to sit around while you two make eyes at each other. Nobody ever considers the feelings of the single guy in the room.
Still muttering, he sat cross-legged inside Merlin's Circle. Then it struck him. Idiot. You've been ignoring your biggest advantage.
He slipped into astral form. Energy flowed more freely this way, his spirit drinking in the currents with ease.
He wasn't alone. Balthazar had just returned with Dave—and a sack of burgers. Dave frowned at Li Feng's motionless body. "He's so obsessed with power he's lost it. Look—he's even fallen asleep in the circle."
Balthazar didn't bother correcting him. Unlike Dave, he could see the shimmering astral form floating above the circle. He could feel Li Feng's magic swelling at a startling pace. But there was something else, buried deep in the boy's soul. An irregularity. A danger.
He waited until Dave was distracted, then called softly, "Austin. We need to talk."
Dave blinked. Talk? To a guy asleep on the floor? Before he could quip, Li Feng's spirit slipped back into his body. He stood instantly. "Perfect timing. I wanted to talk too."
Dave's jaw dropped. So much for deep sleep. He wakes faster than a mosquito bite.
Balthazar drew Li Feng aside. "All sorcerers manipulate energy, yes. But most have affinities—natural leanings."
Li Feng nodded. He knew the pattern. The Ancient One favored dark energy yet wielded countless spells. Dave might dabble in fire, but electricity was his true nature—the ion cannon wasn't a trick, it was his core.
Balthazar's eyes narrowed. "When you projected your spirit, I saw it. Your affinity leans toward time and space—rare, but not impossible. And your dominant ties… to the soul. And to fire."
Li Feng stiffened. Time—that must be quantum energy. I was drenched in it when I crossed dimensions. No wonder it clings to me. Space? Maybe the Sling Ring, or my soul jumping worlds. Fire—ordinary enough. But soul? Necromancy?
What he didn't know was that Balthazar was holding back. Even his fire wasn't normal flame—it carried the undertone of hellfire, fire that burned souls. But Balthazar would never hand that knowledge over.
Instead, he warned, "Sorcerers who meddle with souls—who consort with the dead—never end well. They defile in life, and in death they are damned."
Li Feng almost laughed. In a world of demons and sorcerers, you ask if Hell exists? Morgana summons the dead. And in the wider Marvel cosmos? Lady Death herself. If I ever get back… He buried the thought. Best not to tempt Balthazar's suspicion.
After a long silence, Balthazar pulled a compact book from his pocket, flicked his fingers, and expanded it. He held it out. "This belonged to Sun Long. Now it's yours."
Li Feng's grin split his face. A real grimoire.
Balthazar pressed a finger to the cover. "Sun Long filled it with black magic. I purged that. I replaced it with fire spells. That will serve you better."
Better? It was perfect. Li Feng wanted to cheer. Hell, if you'd added nuclear fusion theory, I'd worship you. A fusion fireball? What could survive that?
Of course, when he cracked it later, there was no fusion. Just fireball, fire rain, fire walls. The flashiest was a treatise on flight—ignite air, expand it, ride the propulsion.
He sighed. Jet engines. You give me rocket science but not fusion? You think I can't handle it?
Still, he devoured the pages greedily.
"Now, your stone," Balthazar said, pointing to the gem in his palm. "Give it here. I'll forge it into a ring. Easier for casting."
Li Feng handed it over with a bow. "Thank you." Inwardly, he also thanked Sun Long. The sorcerer had lost everything—stone, grimoire—while Li Feng gained it all.
The next morning, seated once more in Merlin's Circle, his astral form cultivated steadily. But when he sank back into his body, the pain came sharp, ripping and burning through every nerve.
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