"So, when I get the other ring, I'll need a hobbit to prevent me from succumbing to the temptation of wearing the other ring?" Salomon asked.
"Yes, to wear all the rings at once and completely control Vishanti's magic." The Sorcerer Supreme nodded. "This experiment is to verify whether you have the ability to control Vishanti's magic."
"So I also need a good person who can't say 'my precious.' I know this kind of temptation comes from the bones." Salomon rolled his eyes quietly, recalling the high temperature released by Vishanti's ring when it came into contact with magic. But where could he find someone with no contact with magic?
As if sensing Salomon's doubts, the Ancient One readily offered one of her apprentices. "Master Wong hasn't signed a pact with Vishanti yet. He's currently studying only the mysteries of Kamar-Taj. He hasn't made any significant contributions to Vishanti's magic, and doesn't involve Vishanti's magic…"
Salomon and the Sorcerer Supreme happily decided on the Hobbit's selection. After bidding farewell to his teacher, he returned to his room—a fruitful experience, allowing him to slowly browse through the memories of one of the Archmage's spells.
He didn't intend to leave Kamar-Taj again until he had mastered the first two levels of this mage's spells.
Yes, not even the Child Rights Protection Agency could find him. Yes! That's right! Unplug the internet cable in this room! The magical world doesn't need the internet.
Well… for now.
Salomon had a plan: he intended to use Vishanti's magic to power the magic of Toril and other worlds.
You have to understand that the magic provided by the Weave is essentially True Aether, or MANA. As long as the spell is constructed correctly, any type of magic can be used.
Of course, due to Vishanti's luminous power, some necromancy spells still require his own magic to support them.
However, things didn't go as planned. While Salomon was studying the magic of the Toril universe, Baron Mordo came to visit.
This mage, a fellow disciple of the Sorcerer Supreme, was quite friendly to Salomon. Furthermore, upon meeting him, Baron Mordo kept mentioning silly things like, "I held you in my arms when you were little." Well, now he knew why he had been feeling so uneasy.
Baron Mordo had come to train Salomon in the use of magical instruments… The magical instruments of Kamar-Taj were a little different from those of other faculties.
For example, the Living Tribunal's staff… actually, it was not really related to the Living Tribunal; it was more of a whip than a staff. Then there were the Boots of Fodo, which weren't really called magical artifacts, but rather magical artifacts. Their primary function was to allow a double jump… not exactly the most powerful, but not that bad, either. It was something even a demon with hairspray hands couldn't achieve.
"You've learned how to fight with your body, haven't you?" Baron Mordo grinned like a fox that had stolen a chicken. "Now you need to practice using your weapons in combat. We're not the wizards in fairy tales who cast spells with just a small stick."
"Well… I don't think there's anything wrong with that, Brother Mordo… just enough for close combat…" Salomon tried to shirk the training, but Baron Mordo had seen enough sly children to get away with it.
He grabbed the back of Salomon's collar and wrenched him out like a kitten.
"This is a misconception, Salomon," Mordo said gently. "Creatures from other dimensions will not give us time to chant spells."
Salomon gave up struggling completely. Although he could not see the expression on Baron Mordo's dark face, he knew that he could not escape.
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"So, the Sorcerer Supreme asked you to come here to get a magic weapon, and you asked me to be your Hobbit?" the increasingly "strong" Wong said, dissatisfiedly.
To be honest, Salomon did not expect Wong to look so old. Wong said, "Do you think I am Frodo? I think I look like Sam."
"The body shape is indeed similar, my friend, but you can't cook," Salomon said, "and I think I need your fist."
"Have you finally realized that fists are more effective than magic?" Wong said happily. "See, even if I hadn't signed the Vishanti contract, I could still defeat you in training."
"Bah! If you hadn't taken advantage of me while I was chanting…"
It was 2007, and twelve-year-old Salomon had already learned some Toril and Kamar-Taj magic and had mastered the basics of magical flame shaping.
The two of them arrived in London through Kamar-Taj's portal to the London Temple. The city seemed to have just rained. The bricks and stones were slippery, but the rain seemed to have purified London's air, making it much fresher with a small amount of ozone.
While it wasn't as cool and crisp as Kamar-Taj, it was much better than some big cities—the only problem was that Salomon accidentally stepped into a puddle, soaking his Kamar-Taj-issued shoes.
"Don't look like that, Salomon. Mordo has granted you British citizenship. You'll have to get used to this weather," Wong seemed to be gloating. "The Sorcerer Supreme seems to want you to attend a secular school, right here in England."
"To be precise, it's basic logical thinking education. Most of the mages who come to Kamar-Taj to become apprentices have attended secular schools." Salomon shook his head, lifting his legs and continuing forward, his shoes squeaking. "Mathematics, physics, chemistry. The Sorcerer Supreme said these are essential qualities."
"But I didn't learn them."
"It's likely because you were born in Kamar-Taj. You don't even have health insurance. But I think once you gain magical power, Kamar-Taj will create an identity for you." Salomon concealed part of the truth. The Sorcerer Supreme had told him to tell others that he had signed a contract with Vishanti.
No one could have guessed that Salomon was simply exploiting Vishanti's magic—a method the Sorcerer Supreme was well-versed in. This is how the Ancient One gained Dormammu's power, though now it was being used on Vishanti.
"And this artifact needs to be held by someone with fewer deep magical connections to avoid backlash," Salomon glanced at Wong from the corner of his eye.
As expected, Wong was still a little upset about not being able to sign the contract.
"Don't worry," he reassured Wong. "The Sorcerer Supreme must have her own reasons, but you're more powerful than those who can use magic now, aren't you?"
"You mean in terms of not needing to sleep?"
"Uh… that counts."
"So, what do we do?" Wong said, somewhat dissatisfiedly.
"First, we need to go inside." The moment Salomon and Wong entered the British Museum, located in Russell Square, north of New Oxford Street, they sensed something amiss—the magic here seemed much stronger than elsewhere.
"Did you notice anything?" Wong also noticed something, but he looked around and saw nothing.
"Look over there," Salomon pointed at the exhibits: a bronze statue of Shiva, a wooden statue from the Nicobar Islands, a marble statue of the Yaksha goddess Ambika, murals from the Parthenon, a head of Pharaoh Amenhotep III, and most importantly, the sacrificial vessels from every pantheon on Earth. Each pantheon had its own.
Although the Sorcerer Supreme had already mentioned to Salomon the divine power contained in those artifacts and magical instruments, the sheer magnitude of this power still startled him.
"You mean… we're going to rob the museum?" Wong lowered his voice. "Are the magical instruments one of the collections here?"
"No, they're not…" Salomon also lowered his voice, and the two of them whispered nervously, "Are they the guardians of this place?"
"Haven't you noticed?" Salomon glanced to the side. "Those spiritual beings?"
-End Chapter-
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