Harry opened his eyes, and the sight of the Kamar-Taj library reflected in them.
In other words—had he returned?
He raised a hand and snapped his fingers.
There was no Sling Ring, nor were there any awkward incantations.
The instant his fingertips rubbed together, a ball of pure white flame abruptly sprang to life and burned quietly.
Harry stared at the light, his mind racing.
He could indeed clearly touch the boundaries of the White Magic dimension now. As long as he wished it, he could draw upon that dimension's magic through his own will.
This was the administrator authority the Vishanti had granted him—
But there was no such thing as a free lunch, was there?
He had never promised to serve as the Vishanti's agent, so why were they giving him such a benefit?
Even if the Vishanti were gods aligned with Order, this was still too strange.
"You—could it be—"
Seeing this, Ancient One stepped forward and asked hesitantly.
Harry extinguished the flame on his fingertip and looked up at Ancient One.
"Let's make this clear first. If Earth runs into an alien fleet or some extradimensional demon god, I can lend a hand.
"But if you want me to take over as some kind of Sorcerer Supreme, forget it."
Harry took a deep breath and turned to Ancient One as he spoke.
Ancient One stared at him for a full ten seconds before slowly nodding.
Upon hearing this exchange, King, standing nearby, gaped.
For the mages of Kamar-Taj, the Sorcerer Supreme was the faith of their entire lives—the supreme throne of the magical world.
Yet Harry Osborn had actually treated that throne like a hot potato, with an expression of utter disgust?
King felt a crack form in his worldview.
Over the next several hours, Harry