The next morning, Hong Fei arrived at Avengers Tower just as dawn broke. Tony had dedicated an entire floor to serve as the Avengers' training base. Outside the door, Hong Fei overheard Steve addressing the team.
"Sam still needs time to recover. Even though Hong isn't here, I hope everyone remembers what he said. Moving forward, individual training is important, but we must prioritize group sparring."
Steve paused, his tone firm.
"Even if you know you'll lose, you have to keep sparring. It's the only way we'll learn each other's fighting styles and develop the kind of teamwork we'll need in future battles."
Banner raised his hand hesitantly, waiting for Steve's nod before speaking.
"You all know I can't control what Hulk does."
"I understand," Steve replied. "So Banner, you don't have to participate."
Banner's shoulders relaxed slightly.
"Then I can focus on my research—"
"But you have to watch," Steve interrupted, his expression serious. "We all know Hulk's destructive power, but you don't understand our individual strengths and weaknesses. Observe first, then you can return to your research. I'll organize recordings and send them to you. Make time to study them carefully."
"That's fine with me," Banner agreed.
Steve turned back to the group.
"I know Hong's words hit hard. He criticized all of us, including me. It wasn't comfortable to hear, but I don't feel wronged or ashamed. He was right. A team isn't just a group of people living, working, and fighting together. What we need most is cohesion. For the Avengers, cohesion means understanding and cooperation in battle—and those are our weakest areas."
"In the coming weeks, I'll focus on improving these aspects. I won't accept half-hearted efforts like before. We don't know when Hong will return. If you want to avoid his sharp tongue, don't drag others down. And remember Sam's situation."
At that moment, Hong Fei pushed the door open and stepped inside. All eyes turned to him, and the room fell silent. But instead of speaking, Hong Fei quietly pulled up a stool, sat down beside the training ground, and put on his sunglasses. He remained still and silent.
Steve exchanged a glance with the team, and soon, the training resumed with renewed energy.
Meanwhile, in a distant mountain range, snow blanketed the peaks, stretching endlessly into the horizon. The landscape was a sea of white, interrupted only by a small black dot steadily ascending the ridge. As Hong Fei passed the mountainside, a fierce gale roared to life, hurling large snowflakes against his thin clothes.
The snowflakes melted instantly upon contact, as if they'd fallen into a furnace. Beneath his feet, the snow left no trace, as though he'd never passed through.
Soon, Hong Fei neared the summit. As he stepped over the peak, the space before him trembled. A wall of sharp, transparent lenses rose suddenly, resembling a mosaic of ice crystals or shattered mirrors. The sound of breaking glass echoed through the air.
Hong Fei stopped abruptly, curiosity piqued. He reached out and gently poked the mirror-like surface.
The moment his finger touched it, it went straight through, and the surface rippled like water disturbed by a stone. This was Kamar-Taj's signature magic: the Mirror Dimension. Though it existed as an independent spell, it could easily be mistaken for an entire magical system.
The Mirror Dimension serves as the foundation for countless magical applications across various disciplines—from Mirror Space manipulation to invisibility, illusions, defensive wards, and offensive spells. Hong Fei found himself particularly drawn to seven core Kamar-Taj magics, their allure being the primary motivation for his journey.
Stepping through the shimmering portal, the world transformed around him. The howling winds stilled, the swirling snow vanished, replaced by verdant foliage and weathered stone structures. His boots met packed earth, then transitioned to timeworn bluestone slabs as he ascended the path. The carved patterns beneath his feet had nearly faded into smoothness after centuries of use.
Rounding a moss-covered corner, he discovered a training field bisected by two groups of mages. Contrary to expectations, they wore form-fitting garments rather than flowing robes. The left group moved in synchronized drills, wooden staves cutting precise arcs through the air. Their counterparts on the right wove intricate patterns with their hands, magical energy coalescing into glowing geometric shapes between their fingertips.
The Ancient One glided between the practitioners, her folding fan fluttering like a butterfly in one hand while the other remained clasped behind her back. Sensing his arrival, she turned with deliberate grace, her smile carrying the warmth of a thousand shared sunrises.
Their path led to her quarters, an unassuming structure that seemed to grow from the mountainside itself. Before taking his seat, Hong Fei cut straight to the point.
"Who's mastered the most Kamar-Taj magic besides you?"
The Ancient One's finger arced gracefully toward herself before she amended, "Present company excluded."
Hong Fei suppressed a grimace. Even with the Eye of Agamotto, he couldn't guarantee victory against her. Movie portrayals barely scratched the surface of her capabilities—let alone her comic book feats or her performance during the Infinity War. This was no ordinary opponent, but a cosmic-level entity who'd maintained her position for centuries. Caution, he reminded himself, was paramount.
"After me," she continued, fan tracing idle patterns in the air, "Kaecilius and Mordo lead, followed by Wong and the Sanctuary Guardians."
Hong Fei's nod faltered mid-motion.
"How extensive is their knowledge?"
"Considerable." Her fan snapped open with a crisp pop.
"Portals are child's play here—standard issue, really. Any self-respecting Kamar-Taj mage would be embarrassed to lack that skill."
"Mirror Dimension?"
"Certainly."
"Sword of the Vishanti?"
"Naturally."
She preempted his next question by snapping her fan shut with finality.
"They know many techniques, but high-cost magics demand more than mere knowledge. Not all possess the will—or the means—to wield them."
This piqued Hong Fei's interest. As they settled into opposing cushions, the Ancient One began her tea ritual with ceremonial precision. Steam curled between them as he voiced his confusion.
"I understand magic requires payment, but must every spell exact a toll?"
"Without exception."
"Why?"
"Because the energies we channel are neither limitless nor unclaimed."
Her fingers danced around the teapot, tracing invisible sigils in the steam.
"Every incantation constitutes a negotiation, a temporary lease of power. The greater the magic, the steeper the terms."
Her eyes gleamed with centuries of hard-won wisdom.
"This is why we train both mind and body here. When the bill comes due, physical resilience often proves as valuable as arcane knowledge."
Hong Fei's fingers stilled around his teacup as understanding dawned. The combat drills, the emphasis on physical conditioning—it all served as hedge against magic's inherent cost. His gaze drifted to the training field visible through the window, where mages now practiced disarming techniques with ritual daggers. Every movement spoke of economy, of conserving resources for when they'd matter most.
"The first approach strengthens their physique to increase their chances of survival, while the second teaches them to dispatch opponents with minimal magical expenditure."
Ancient One tilted her head toward Hong Fei, her smile deepening.
"Precisely. Combat's purpose is to defeat or kill—why complicate matters?"
She adjusted her robes.
"Kamar-Taj rarely engages in petty rivalries."
"But you guard against interdimensional invasions. Surely you've faced countless enemies."
"Not human ones."
"Fair point."
Hong Fei leaned forward.
"So you must know spells like Fireball?"
Ancient One's fingers traced the rim of her teacup.
"Naturally. Centuries ago, such flamboyant magics were standard curriculum. Mages could dazzle commoners with parlor tricks—but mastery demanded endless repetition. Each casting exacted its toll."
Her voice grew somber.
"In those days, practitioners aged decades in years. Many died young."
"So you reformed everything."
"Discarded the ostentatious arts. Abandoned spells that traded life for lethality."
She snapped her fingers—a tiny golden spark danced between them before vanishing.
"Simplified what remained, retrained generations of mages. Now our practitioners live full lifespans, often longer than mundanes."
Hong Fei chuckled.
"Doesn't that cheat your energy lender out of business?"
Ancient One's lips curved as she sipped her tea. The unspoken truth hung between them—the cosmic entity who fueled white magic certainly noticed when an entire civilization stopped paying interest. And here sat its greatest debtor, serenely refilling her cup.
"Tell me," Hong Fei pressed, "can that price be transferred?"
The teacup clinked against its saucer. Just for an instant—so fast an ordinary eye would miss it—Ancient One's hand faltered.
"It can," she admitted, voice measured. Hong Fei hid his smirk. He'd read the comics. While Kamar-Taj's collective bore some burden, the main universe's Ancient One had kept ten thousand personal disciples solely as magical capacitors. Compared to that, this tea-sipping variant seemed almost wholesome. Her reaction confirmed the method existed. Whether she'd employed it? That remained unclear. Draining his cup, Hong Fei stood.
"I'll learn some magic now. Arrange sparring partners—one at a time or all together, I don't care. Just make it quick."
Ancient One raised an eyebrow: "I know you have special abilities, but magic demands respect. Recklessness only courts disaster."
She rose, sleeves whispering against the floor.
"The library first. Master the texts I select, and you'll have your opponents before sunset."