Kamar-Taj Library.
Li Feng forced a polite smile as he handed the Ancient One's parchment slip to the librarian. The man's lips pressed into a thin line, irritation flickering across his face.
Knowledge was sacred here gathered through centuries of toil and sacrifice. Outsiders weren't meant to touch it. Even as a "guest sorcerer," Li Feng earned only scorn. And this note bore the Ancient One's seal, granting access to her private shelves. That alone deepened the man's resentment.
Li Feng didn't care. Let him glare. As long as the books made it into his hands, the man's disapproval meant nothing. He wasn't about to start a fight inside Kamar-Taj—he wasn't that reckless. And in the back of his mind, he remembered the librarian's fate: someday Kaecilius would cleave him down with twin axes. Maybe I'll save my gloating for then. A scowl's not worth it.
He accepted the volumes and carried them back to his chamber. Pressing them against his enchanted grimoire, he began the tedious process. Unlike Balthazar, who could simply imprint knowledge, Li Feng had to read aloud, letting the tome capture each word in living script.
It wasn't foolproof. Noise crept in. Once, he imagined the book might transcribe a spell punctuated by honking car horns. Mispronounce a word, and the grimoire dutifully etched nonsense. It never corrected him—it only recorded. The burden of editing fell on him.
Still, even with errors, it was faster than copying by hand. Within a month, he'd transferred the bulk of the basic spell texts. The most precious among them were the Ancient One's own treatises on manipulating the flow of time.
Combined with Balthazar's notes, the picture sharpened. These weren't rewinds of the cosmic river—not the Eye of Agamotto's mastery—but techniques to accelerate or stall temporal currents. Enough to ripen an apple instantly or preserve it for a millennium. Not for living beings—not yet—but the principle itself was a revelation.
The thanks belonged to Balthazar. Since the Ancient One couldn't step into another world to deliver it, Li Feng's grimoire became the bridge.
Weeks of study passed. At last, Li Feng began to pack.
The Ancient One intercepted him in the corridor. "You're leaving."
He scratched his head, embarrassed. He'd eaten her food, borrowed her wisdom, mined her library, and given back only one battered book. That same book now sat in his bag. "Did you need something?"
She raised a hand. The walls folded, reality shimmering as she drew them into the Mirror Dimension. "Before you go, I want to see it. Show me how you travel between worlds."
Li Feng hesitated only a heartbeat, then set his bag aside and stripped off his outer layers.
"One thing, Master. I never know how time flows while I'm gone. Supplies—especially food—rot. I can afford a little bread, but…" He patted his belly sheepishly. "Money's tight."
Her eyes softened. To her, a few rations were nothing. She could have fed him for a lifetime, had she chosen.
Prepared at last, Li Feng slid the Sling Ring onto one hand, the ruby-set ring forged from Sun Long's stone onto the other, and clutched his grimoire tight. He drew a deep breath, summoned the storm within, and began. Agony tore through him as sparks carved a circle in the air.
A blue-white portal bloomed, laced with a twisting filament of green. It flared, lunged—and swallowed him whole. His discarded shorts crumpled to the floor.
The Ancient One stood silently, hands clasped, tasting the residue in the air. Envy slipped through her calm. Such a gift. A bridge across infinite worlds. Had I possessed such a vessel, I would never have needed the Dark Dimension.
Moments later, another portal erupted open.
Li Feng tumbled out—naked, face rough with stubble.
The Ancient One blinked. By her reckoning, he had been gone mere seconds. Yet the man before her looked months older.
He steadied himself, pulled an overcoat from his bag, and arched a brow. "You're not planning to camp out in my room every day waiting for me, are you?"
"I haven't left," she said evenly. "To me, you vanished only moments ago."
Li Feng froze. "…So I spent half a year in another world, and here only seconds passed?"
Her gaze sharpened. "Half a year? Then you used the time well. You're growing more comfortable with the power." She leaned forward. "If you are not too weary, tell me—what world did you walk?"
Li Feng sighed, sat heavily on the bed. "Same rule as always. It had to be an Earth. One with magic woven into its bones."
Slowly, he recounted. An Earth scarred by civil war. A soldier named Jonah Hex, betrayed, cursed with the power to speak with the dead. Li Feng had followed whispers to the Raven tribe, learning their ritual—touch a corpse, draw its soul back briefly from the underworld.
A crude trick, really. A variation on astral projection. The living saw a lunatic raving at cadavers. But to him, the spirits shone clear.
The tribe had other "remedies" too—doses of narcotics before surgery, half medicine, half hallucination. He'd passed on that.
No, the only gift he carried back was the communion with the dead—and the revelation of warped time. Half a year there. Seconds here.
He chuckled ruefully.
The Ancient One urged him to rest. He declined. His path was already set.
Back in New York, stepping through a portal, Li Feng's mind was already turning to his next move.
But before he could vanish into the city, the Ancient One called him back to the reception hall.
With a wave of her hand, the walls folded, drawing them once again into the Mirror Dimension. Li Feng hesitated before following. His pulse spiked—had she uncovered the secret of his soul? But when she turned to face him, her voice was calm.
"Austin," she asked, "do you know the nature of your magic? Its affinity?"
Relief washed through him. So this is about my mana, not my origin. In Kamar-Taj, even whispering about the Dark Dimension was dangerous—one slip, and a disciple could brand him corrupted.
He nodded silently. Of course she had seen it. Balthazar had too. A sorcerer who'd lived centuries? There was no way she wouldn't.
But her warning took a different shape. Balthazar had told him to hide it, to avoid the dark at all costs. The Ancient One spoke of balance. Of learning to master the pull instead of letting it master him.
The irony wasn't lost on Li Feng. Here was the woman who had herself drawn from the Dark Dimension without falling—at least not entirely. If anyone could teach him restraint, it was her. His affinity was fixed. Better to wield it with control than deny it and lose everything.
She didn't confess her own bargain, of course. Instead, she wrapped her lesson in parables.
She spoke of evolution—fish that once breathed water, but adapted slowly until they could breathe air.
"Most sorcerers," she said, "remain in their lakes. Safe. Stagnant. The ambitious seek the shore—some as amphibians, some as true land-walkers."
Her gaze sharpened. "But the ocean is different. The ocean is the dark. Throw a carp from a pond into the sea, and it dies. Rush headlong into the tide, and you'll be consumed."
Li Feng understood immediately. He was the carp. His magic was already tugging him toward the sea. His only hope was to grow stronger—to find shallows where fresh water mixed with salt, to adapt before venturing into deeper currents.
Her face softened, shadowed with a trace of regret.
Li Feng bit back a smirk. You didn't find the shallows, did you? You dove straight into Dormammu's sea. Too much salt, even for you.
Still, he bowed with respect. "Don't worry, Master. I'm not looking for shortcuts. I have countless worlds to draw from. Power will come step by step. Gambling with my life isn't on the menu."
Her eye twitched at the barb laced in his words, but she pressed on. "Even the ocean has hidden currents—pockets deadlier than the rest. Remember that, even when you've adapted. Never let your guard down."
Li Feng's expression was grave. He promised he would tread carefully.
Satisfied, she let it rest. She had given him enough—enough to bind his regard for Kamar-Taj, if not his loyalty. That would have to be enough.
When the portal opened, they parted. Li Feng stepped through into the New York Sanctum.
Outside, he lingered, staring at the stone facade. The thought nagged at him: the Ancient One fussed over him like a mother with her son.
He shrugged it off. "Son or not, doesn't matter. If I find something interesting, I'll bring her a gift now and then."
Then he smacked his forehead. "Right—the used car guy. Louisiana. New Orleans, wasn't it?" His stomach growled. "Hope they've got fried chicken."
He turned down a side alley, intending to practice portals along the way.
That was when the growl of a Harley split the air. Two punks rolled up—leather jackets, steel studs, gaunt from drugs.
Robbers.
Why bother with finesse when intimidation worked faster? Flash a knife, flex some muscle, and most targets folded.
And there he stood, backpack slung over one shoulder. A perfect mark.
So carrying a bag makes me rich? Great. That's my entire fortune you're eyeing.
He sighed inwardly. Two years in this world, and he'd been mugged more times than he cared to count. Always at night—until now. Broad daylight. New record.
He checked his pack, made sure it was secure, then glanced around for cameras. A slow grin spread across his face.
"Gentlemen," he said lightly. "How about a deal? Hand me your cash, and I won't mess up those pretty faces."
One sneered, flicking open a switchblade. "Do you even know who you're talking to?"
The other's eyes had locked onto Li Feng's ring, the blood-red stone gleaming. "Bag. Ring. Or you bleed."
Seriously? A couple of threats and you think I'll hand over enchanted artifacts? What are you, running Talk-no-Jutsu?
Li Feng barely heard them. His attention had already shifted—to the Harley. Sleek. Customized. Expensive.
Do I practice portals today… or ride in style?
"Hey!" one of them barked. "Look at me when I'm talking!"
This time, Li Feng did. His gaze sharpened, dangerous.
This is getting old. You really think I'm weak? Fine. I'll show you what it means to cross a sorcerer… even if all I've got are fireballs.
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