Bella had no intention of taking the conventional route. She knew the location of the New York Sanctum, and she knew the little house in Kathmandu led directly into Kamar-Taj—but so what?
She wasn't going to any of those places. You invited me to Kamar-Taj, so I'm coming straight there. Being funneled through a portal, escorted by acolytes through eight twisting corridors—that was beneath her dignity.
Kamar-Taj wasn't a matter of desperation for her. Bella wasn't like Doctor Strange, who'd be crippled for life if he didn't come, who had no hope without learning sorcery. She wasn't at that point.
She wasn't here to beg. This was a visit. If she learned something, she'd be grateful. If not, no hard feelings.
Bella hopped onto a tree and scanned the horizon. The ambient magical interference here was intense—her divination spells returned absolutely nothing. She'd have to ask for directions the old-fashioned way. After questioning three separate herders, she finally found a narrow trail and, after considerable effort, made her way through the mountain passes into a valley. In the distance, nestled among the peaks, lay an ancient town.
"Ha ha, what a stubborn young woman. I sent Wong to Kathmandu to meet you—why didn't you take that route instead of wandering through the mountains?"
The voice was clear, like a stream flowing into the heart. The Ancient One stood on a nearby boulder in milky-white robes, watching Bella.
Truthfully, her voice wasn't warm. But it wasn't cold either. It was a kind of politeness—a refusal distilled from indifference.
The vibe reminded Bella of Professor Xavier from the X-Men. Strip away the pleasantries and the masks, and their inner worlds were closed to everyone. Whether it was Cyclops or Jean for Xavier, or the Ancient One's many disciples—even Doctor Strange—they were all just travelers, fleeting scenery along the road of an impossibly long life.
People like that didn't need outsiders to understand them and had no desire for deep connections. It was a philosophy that kept the world at arm's length while somehow making you feel respected all the same.
Bella started with a chuckle—the way martial arts grandmasters always laughed when they met, as though the longer and louder the laughter, the deeper the friendship.
"Heh heh heh heh heh heh—" She stood there giggling to herself for a good ten seconds. The Divine Dragon stared at her, wondering if something had gone wrong with her brain.
She skipped all the bravado about storming the gates and establishing dominance. No matter how you looked at it, the Ancient One was stronger than her. That was the hard truth. When you held the upper hand, you pushed hard. When you didn't, you didn't hesitate either.
Hesitate, and you lose. She promptly threw someone else under the bus.
"This is so embarrassing—it's all Little Sakura's fault! She said she knew the way to Kamar-Taj, and I ended up going in circles for hours!"
The Divine Dragon's face turned scarlet. She popped out to argue. "I pointed out this exact route three hours ago! You're the one who insisted on following the river! Something about 'snowmelt carves rivers, walk upstream and you'll find Kamar-Taj.' Well? Did you find Kamar-Taj? You found a snow-capped mountain!"
"...But I did narrow down the general area, didn't I? That's better than you pointing every direction on the compass!"
The Ancient One said nothing, standing to the side with a faint smile as she watched them bicker.
A full ten minutes passed before she spoke again. "Youth is a wonderful thing. Perhaps you'd both like to come inside for some tea?"
The real Kamar-Taj was just a small city tucked into a mountain valley. By Bella's estimate, the population was roughly a thousand—and only a small fraction of them possessed any magical ability.
Most were ordinary people whose ancestors had produced a sorcerer or two. They understood the hidden workings of the world and simply preferred not to live among regular society, choosing to settle in Kamar-Taj instead.
The residents showed no particular reverence toward the Ancient One. Those who knew her gave a nod. Those who didn't either looked straight through her or actively changed course to avoid her.
Here, the Ancient One was neither a queen nor a deity. She didn't seem to mind in the slightest, leading Bella calmly toward her quarters.
When the Ancient One greeted a man dressed like a Taoist priest and he completely ignored her, walking past without so much as a glance—even Bella felt secondhand embarrassment.
She had to ask: "Master, you're learned and wise, and your magical power is unfathomable. Why do they treat you like this?"
The Ancient One's expression didn't change. "Knowledge? Power? Knowledge doesn't belong to me—it belongs to everyone. The same goes for magical power. Someday, it will return to the world in some other form. What role did we humans play in any of it? We brought nothing into this world, and we'll take nothing out. They have no reason to worship me, and I have no need for reverence—genuine or otherwise."
She gestured at their surroundings. "To Kamar-Taj, you and I are no different. We're both just passing through."
Bella wasn't one to parrot other people's philosophies. She had a thoroughly developed worldview of her own. "With respect, I think that's a bit too fatalistic. Something always endures—our perspectives on the world, the mistakes we've made, the lessons we've learned."
The Ancient One replied with a mildly questioning tone: "Do the mistakes of those who came before actually prevent those who come after from repeating them?"
Bella didn't consider herself some peerless genius, but she was extremely well-read. Before the Ancient One even finished, she could see where this was going.
She preempted it with her own argument: "Hegel did say that 'the only thing we learn from history is that we learn nothing from history.' But the very fact that this quote has survived to the present proves that someone took the lesson to heart. Humanity isn't foolish. On the whole, we're still moving forward."
The Ancient One didn't press the debate further. It was the eternal impasse—the old could never convince the young, and the young could never truly understand the old.
They entered a quiet chamber. Someone poured tea. Both women sat on their heels and sipped in silence. A long while passed before the Ancient One finally broached the purpose of her invitation.
"Sadako poses a considerable threat to the world at large. The videotapes she's produced, in this era of upheaval, will trigger disasters both foreseeable and unpredictable. Fate rarely bends to individual will. I hope you can assist her in tracking down and destroying every tape that's still circulating out there."
Even delivering what amounted to a lengthy request, the Ancient One's composure never wavered. This wasn't a crisis-level concern for her—if things truly spiraled out of control, she could handle it herself with some effort.
Bella blinked. She'd spent months speculating about why the Ancient One had summoned her, running through a dozen scenarios—and it turned out to be about Sadako.
Had Sadako's videotapes set off some kind of chain reaction? The Ancient One offered no further explanation, and Bella didn't push. Whatever the reason, the solution was the same: clean up the tapes.
She nodded. "Understood. I'll take care of it."
She watched the Ancient One's right hand drift toward her teacup—the unmistakable prelude to a polite dismissal. On impulse, Bella bowed.
"Master, I'd like to study sorcery under your guidance."