Method of Breaking Boundaries

At nine o'clock sharp, accompanied by a flash of blue light, He Shenyan returned to the door of his temporary residence.

He stood before the entrance, his fingers twitching slightly, and the door creaked open of its own accord. As usual, the man changed into his slippers and walked into the living room, only to find someone standing there with their back to him, their Cloak of Levitation billowing.

"Why am I not the least bit surprised, Strange?"

He Shenyan didn't even look at him, heading straight to the kitchen to open the refrigerator and grab a can of Coca-Cola for himself.

"It's not too late to give up, He."

The man known as Strange turned around. He wore a form-fitting robe and his red, high-collared Cloak of Levitation, and he was actually hovering in mid-air.

"What are you referring to?"

He Shenyan chuckled.

He walked into the living room, flicked his fingers, and another can of Coca-Cola flew out of the fridge, heading straight toward Strange.

Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, the bustling night view of New York bore witness to the scene. Outside, the traffic flowed like a river, lively and vibrant.

Strange raised his hand and caught the flying soda but did not drink it.

He descended to the floor, his expression complex, a trace of pleading hidden in his eyes.

"I know what you want to do, He. But it's impossible to succeed—you are widely respected here, why must you insist on leaving?"

He Shenyan shook his head.

He sat there quietly, sipping his Coca-Cola in small intervals.

A muffled sound drifted in from outside the window; the high-rise apartment in the heart of New York enjoyed the best view the city had to offer. This also meant that those who lived here were often quite lonely.

You could see the endless stream of traffic and the neon lights, but you couldn't hear their specific sounds. It was as if one were cut off from the world.

"How many times have I saved this world, Strange?" He Shenyan asked suddenly.

"I've lost count," the current Sorcerer Supreme replied.

"Yes, you've lost count—and as for me, I'm starting to forget what my hometown looks like."

Strange pursed his lips. He sat on the sofa opposite and asked, "Can't this place be your home?"

"You know the answer to that." He Shenyan smiled again. "Let's get down to business. What do you want?"

"I want to convince you to stop." Strange gritted his teeth, feeling strangely ashamed to bring it up.

He Shenyan didn't answer him, which made his heart sink. A few seconds later, he raised his hand, and the ancient pendant on his chest began to rotate, blooming with a lustrous green light: "I have seen it."

The man who had entered Kamar-Taj before him, the one who was more of a mentor to him than the Ancient One, looked up, a hint of disappointment appearing in his eyes—a look Strange couldn't quite decipher.

He heard He Shenyan say, "What you see are merely possibilities, Strange. I told you a long time ago that the Eye of Agamotto can only—never mind, how many possibilities have you seen?"

"Ten thousand," Strange said. "And there are many more I haven't had time to look at yet."

"Ten thousand."

He Shenyan stood up and walked to the floor-to-ceiling window. With his back to Strange, he spoke slowly.

"At every moment, the future births different branches. We once studied the topics of prophecy and the future; do you remember the conclusion we finally reached?"

"I remember."

"And what was that conclusion?"

"...That it's all bullshit."

He Shenyan burst into laughter: "Yes! It's all bullshit! So, even if you've seen ten thousand possibilities where I fail, I still firmly believe that among those countless failures, I will succeed once. I only need this one time."

"...You are far more excellent than I am, He."

Strange closed his eyes, his voice carrying the weight of a sigh as he brought up a topic unrelated to what they were currently discussing.

"I don't understand why the Ancient One chose me to succeed her as Sorcerer Supreme, and I don't understand why you accepted it. It was you who wiped out those Skrulls, and it was you who killed Thanos with your own hands."

"Why, He? Why must you leave? Even at the cost of your own life?"

"Because I must try."

He Shenyan turned his head sharply, his black hair fluttering as dark, fluorescent magic ignited in his eyes: "I have to do this—for ten years, everything I have done has been nothing more than a byproduct of this goal."

"I once turned to science, but science couldn't help. So I turned to magic. I spent ten years becoming the strongest, mastering every spell. I even drove those Dimensional Gods out of our world, allowing magic to truly belong to us, so that using spells no longer requires a so-called price."

"But that doesn't mask the deep longing in my heart, Strange. Between this longing and my life, there is no second choice. Yes, I know that according to existing theories, there are many different worlds out there, and I might spend ten thousand years and still not find the one I belong to."

"But I don't care. I must try."

Strange knew that he could no longer persuade He Shenyan.

So, he began to discuss the feasibility of the matter in earnest: "If you want to break through the World Barrier and leave according to the theories left behind by those madmen in history, then how do you intend to deal with the gaze of the Outer Gods?"

He Shenyan laughed again—he had finally brought it up.

The Outer Gods were entities that floated outside the World Barrier, crowned with the title of gods, yet they were entirely incapable of communication and impossible to even look upon directly.

No one knew their intentions, and no one had ever had a happy ending after coming into contact with them.

Not only that, but in the long history of this world, there had been two instances where the World Barrier had been breached.

Those two incidents had resulted in countless deaths and had simultaneously brought vampires, werewolves, and all sorts of dark monsters into this world.

Some say that even a curious glance from Their eyes would cause this world to crumble into dust.

"I don't want to lecture you now; you've already graduated. So I'll keep it brief, Strange. Throughout all the magical texts in the world, you will only find one spell regarding interdimensional travel."

"The Madman, Vaivan Dukevich," Strange said in a low voice. "That notorious madman."

The Madman, Vaivan Dukevich. He was the founder of existing cross-boundary theories and the discoverer of the World Barrier. His name carried great weight, but he held a poor reputation in the history of mages.

The spell he invented had no name; it was even said to have originated from one of his dreams. Vaivan believed that beyond the world beneath our feet, countless magnificent worlds awaited human exploration.

He was the strongest mage of his era and considered himself a pioneer of humanity. He spent thirty years researching the method of breaking boundaries, and at the age of one hundred and seventy-eight, he succeeded.

Relying on a so-called dream, Vaivan researched the complete cross-boundary spell. Not only that, but he even located the weakest point of the World Barrier.

Next, he spent forty years killing a Hell Demon Lord and imprisoning the latter's soul. Then, he summoned an Intelligence Angel from Heaven at the weakest point of the World Barrier.

—Then, he killed the Intelligence Angel, mixed the souls of both, and added his own magical power. The moment these three opposing forces touched, they erupted with unimaginable energy.

At the end of his life, Vaivan must have been smiling. He had succeeded, but he had also died. From beginning to end, he never considered how he might survive such an explosion, and then the consequences arrived.

The "Basterville" incident.

When the explosion occurred, only three of the seventy mages accompanying him survived on the spot. At the same time, above that transparent sky, a mass of flesh and blood appeared, though no one knew it.

Three days later, it had devoured the lives of more than half the planet.

When it was destroyed, it stood three hundred meters tall, and the corruption on its body was so potent that ordinary mages would be instantly tainted, becoming part of the rotting flesh on its frame. Only those with powerful magic, wearing protective artifacts for their minds, could barely resist.

The mages called for angels, but the angels refused. They turned to sacrifice to summon demons, but the demons also refused, even declaring that the Earth was about to be destroyed—but in the end, Ancient One solved it.

"Vaivan was brilliant, yet still shackled by his era. In his time, spells like portals hadn't even been discovered. Standing on his shoulders, we should do better than him. In fact, I believe I can improve it."

Strange gave a wry smile—yes, of course you can.

He wouldn't deny this; no one could deny He Shenyan's talent on the path of magic.

He had improved countless theories and ultimately summarized a method of casting that relied on using the mind to distort reality, supplemented by magical power. The difficulty had increased, but the power and efficiency were five times greater.

In the magical world, they said every mage should thank him. Strange had no objection to this; he was one of the beneficiaries.

"What do you want to do?" he asked.

He Shenyan smiled slightly: "Come with me."

He snapped his fingers, black magical power gathered between his fingertips, and a portal appeared in an instant.

Action followed thought; the man snapped his fingers. Black magic gathered between his fingers, opening a portal. Behind the door was his laboratory, cluttered yet displaying a strange sense of order.

Strange followed him inside, and a familiar scent of potions immediately jolted his mind. He knew this special fragrance was a potion called "Lucidity."

It allowed one to remain rational and clear-headed; its effect was just as its name suggested. The only drawbacks were perhaps the production process and the unappealing raw materials. However, all potions were like that.

He Shenyan walked into the center of the laboratory with his hands behind his back, his casual wear instantly transforming into a simple, ancient black robe, the hem fluttering without a breeze. Flickering light-blue magical fluorescence appeared in an instant, and the results of various complex inferences and data calculations were presented before Strange.

"How is it? My research results." He Shenyan smiled faintly. "You can study for a while to catch up with my progress. After reading these, you should have more confidence in me."

Strange sighed helplessly, but a few seconds later, he laughed abruptly.

"Drafting me as cheap labor? Just like before?"

"You followed me in yourself, Strange. I never forced you."

"Yeah."

The current Sorcerer Supreme rolled his eyes: "You certainly didn't, but you always throw these data points right into my face. How am I supposed to refuse after seeing these things?"

"If you refused, you wouldn't be much of a mage."

He Shenyan laughed heartily: "Let's begin, Strange. Let us surpass this era for once."

A note at the beginning.

If later readers find that the comments and chapter content do not match, this is normal.

Because when the author first wrote this book, I treated it with a casual attitude, and many parts were just cobbled together.

However, as I kept writing, I found the income wasn't bad, and furthermore, I truly found joy in writing something.

A reader suggested that I rewrite some of the unsightly parts from the beginning, and I think he had a point.

So, I did just that. For now, this work is still in progress.