He was a violent man. His physique and scars both spoke of grueling battles and unimaginable victories. He was a warrior; even his breath carried the scent of blood. Stephen Strange had been dragged out of the cramped apprentice quarters assigned to him by Mordo early in the morning. After washing up, still bleary-eyed, he had wandered around Kamar-Taj before the apprentices' morning lesson and spotted the man standing in the middle of the square. He had thought that, after yesterday's experiences, nothing here could surprise him anymore. Yet when he discovered that the wooden door through which he had entered Kamar-Taj did not lead to the streets of Kathmandu, but to a precipitous snow-covered cliff halfway up the Himalayan Mountains, he was once again struck speechless.
He had even seen snow leopards concealed among black rocks and snowdrifts. Not only had those ferocious predators not harmed him, they had approached him and lazily rolled around at his feet. It was not until another robed Arcanist emerged carrying a bucket of raw meat and methodically fed the snow leopards that Stephen Strange realized those wild animals were actually beasts raised by Kamar-Taj. Beyond that, countless animals that would have thrilled any wildlife expert could be found everywhere here. Stephen Strange had never seen so many wild animals in his life.
Now he witnessed another astonishing sight. Arcanists dressed in neat combat attire attacked the tall man with fists, kicks, and spells alike. Faced with scorching sparks hot enough to char stone, the man relied solely on his own agility and strength, his movements almost too fast to see, and efficiently knocked the Arcanists down one after another without suffering so much as a scratch. Stephen Strange, who had watched collapsing magical sparks ignite fallen leaves and cause a small commotion,