Chapter 21

If Portals and the Mirror Dimension had originally shared the same source, then Magic Shield and the Ring of Raggadorr should have belonged to the same category as well—yet they remained separate **.

"Could it... require the same level?"

The shield was the earliest spell he had mastered, and also the one he had practiced most diligently.

Whether he focused on it or not, it had always been quietly operating, steadily rising.

Its level now far surpassed the others, having reached Level Six. Even veteran sorcerers who had studied for years might not possess such mastery.

Most of his other spells remained at the threshold of Level Three or Four.

"This might be the key."

He tucked the thought away.

He would have to find an opportunity to test it later.

The lingering warmth of magic remained on his fingertips, like he had just touched heated pottery.

Zhao Yu lowered his gaze to his palm. Beneath his skin, some unfamiliar pulse seemed to be flowing slowly.

He curled his fingers, then released them, repeating the motion several times.

The fused spell truly was different.

Not only had it retained its original effects, it had gained something else as well.

He could not say exactly what it was, but it felt like dropping ink into clear water. It was still liquid, yet its nature had completely changed.

Thicker, darker, capable of reflecting a different kind of light.

What if every spell in his body underwent such a change?

When the thought surfaced, he felt the muscles in his jaw twitch on their own.

He had not meant to smile, but the corner of his mouth did curve into a faint arc.

Images flashed through his mind: opponents staggering backward before sudden, unclassifiable power, as though invisible waves had smashed them against reefs.

"I need to learn more."

He spoke to himself, so quietly that he could barely hear it.

The more spells he mastered, the more shared foundations he could find.

It was like gathering threads of different colors. Once there were enough of them, he would always be able to weave an unexpected pattern.

Opportunities for fusion would come eventually.

This was Kamar-Taj.

A place where ancient characters and echoes of energy seemed to float even in the air.

The Sorcerer Supreme who walked along the edge of the world had swept her gaze across the ruins and hidden places of countless civilizations, bringing back lost, forbidden, and newly born knowledge one piece at a time.

She herself was a moving library, a source from which new rules constantly emerged.

So here, spells were not treasured artifacts, but things as natural as breathing.

As long as he remained here, like roots sinking into the soil, he would always be able to absorb enough nourishment.

If that nourishment could blend together...

He did not continue the thought, but a heavy expectation had already taken shape in his chest.

That would be his trump card, hidden up his sleeve, a trump card no one knew about.

Tomorrow.

The word carried weight now.

What new runes would he encounter tomorrow? What sort of energy structures? Which existing parts would they resonate with? Questions surfaced one after another. Rather than making him anxious, they made his fingertips grow faintly hot.

He rubbed his chin with his thumb again, as though the sensation of unconsciously pressing there while thinking still remained.

Then he sat down cross-legged.

The air around him seemed to freeze for an instant before slowly beginning to circulate around him.

Those newly settled, newly transformed magical powers were awakened once more, driven and tempered.

There was no time to rest. Not even for a moment.

***

The sound of the door hinge turning was light, yet it was still clear in the silent early morning.

Daylight poured through the widening crack in the door, cutting an ever-changing patch of brightness across the floor.

The one standing in the light was not Master Wong, who always appeared on time.

It was Hamir.

They had not seen each other for several days.

Yet his appearance made Zhao Yu pause halfway through rising.

Hamir stood there with his back slightly hunched, as though carrying some invisible weight.

His complexion was a bloodless grayish white. His eye sockets were deeply sunken, the skin around them bluish, as if he had not slept for several nights in a row.

Even the robe he usually kept crisply washed and pressed looked wrinkled now, hanging in weary folds.

His breathing was heavier than usual, and every inhale carried a faint, strained tremor.

He merely stood in the doorway without saying anything, yet an almost exhausted aura had already spread into the room.

Hamir leaned against the doorframe, his eyelids lowered.

The beard on his chin had lost its usual neat outline, several gray-white strands sticking out in different directions.

Ink stained his cuffs, and the top button of his robe was undone.

"Did you... not rest well?"

The young man standing opposite him shifted his gaze from Hamir's disheveled hair to his bloodshot eyes.

He remembered this sorcerer's usual habits—his robes were always crisp, his nails neatly trimmed and clean, and he always carried the scent of lemons mixed with old books.

But now, the bitter smell of overnight tea drifted through the air.

Hamir let out a short breath through his nose.

"What do you think?"

He was Kamar-Taj's acknowledged master. At least, before a doctor from London appeared, all the elders had believed him to be the most gifted apprentice of his generation.

Then Kaecilius had come, and now there was this young man before him.

Hamir rubbed his brow with his knuckles, the veins beneath his skin faintly throbbing.

For the past seventy-two hours, he had relied only on strong tea and meditation to stay awake, repeatedly working through those complex spell structures.

By the time the morning light had climbed over the window lattice, he had already been waiting at the end of the corridor—if not for the possibility that the other man needed sleep, he would have knocked on this door at midnight.

"They told me you can already construct the Mirror Dimension?"

There was something urgent suppressed in his voice.

"I succeeded once yesterday afternoon."

The young man moved half a step back, his elbow brushing the cold stone wall. "Does that have some special significance?"

"Significance?"

Hamir suddenly straightened, and his bloodshot eyes lit up. "It means we can test those dangerous spells.

Using them in real space might tear open walls, or make the ancient trees in the courtyard suddenly bloom—Ancient One would not appreciate that sort of surprise."

As he spoke, his fingers unconsciously kneaded the corner of his robe. The movement made him look less like the serious sorcerer he usually was and more like an apprentice preparing a prank.

That sharply defined face should have been full of authority, yet it was now shrouded in a childlike excitement.

Zhao Yu looked at that face and somehow sensed an awe-inspiring air from it.

"What spell does Master wish to test?"

He raised a hand and rubbed the back of his neck, his voice full of curiosity.

The Mirror Dimension was essentially a replica of reality.

Besides being used in battle, it was more commonly used by sorcerers as a testing ground.

In the circulating visual records, the man later known as Doctor Strange

had learned this technique from the Sorcerer Supreme only after mastering the ancient incantations hidden deep within the library.

In a sense, using it for surveillance work was like using a blade to cut paper.

He truly wanted to know what Hamir intended to demonstrate that required the use of this space.

"We'll talk inside."

Hamir's words were as brief as a stone hitting the ground.

Though he did not understand the intention, Zhao Yu was certain this elder would not harm him.

He extended his fingers, and the air cracked open like shattered glass as a distorted entrance quietly appeared.

"Hm?"

Hamir tilted his head, surprise flashing through his eyes. "You brat... you mastered it far too quickly."

He paused, then narrowed his eyes. "And your Mirror Dimension isn't quite right."

He shook his head and carefully examined the rippling phantom, yet he could not discern anything unusual.

"Interesting."

Hamir's lips seemed to rise, though not quite into a smile.

Other than the Sorcerer Supreme, he was perhaps one of the most knowledgeable people in Kamar-Taj.

Yet even he could not see through this spell's nature. He could only confirm once more that the brat before him was indeed extraordinary—even a Mirror Dimension could become this baffling in his hands.

He stopped dwelling on it and stepped forward.

Zhao Yu was brought directly into the Mirror Dimension.

Everything around them was too quiet, making even his own breathing sound abrupt.

Hamir stood across from him, wearing that inscrutable smile.

"What exactly are you planning to do?"

Zhao Yu finally could not help asking.

The curiosity felt like something lightly scratching inside his stomach, making it impossible for him to remain calm.

"Teach you something."

Hamir lowered his voice, carrying a sense of secrecy. "Something special."

"Does learning magic need to be this... secretive?"

"Of course it does."

The curve of Hamir's lips deepened, revealing undisguised pride. "What I'm going to pass on to you isn't some trick you can see everywhere."

Zhao Yu's gaze lingered on Hamir's face for a moment.

This sorcerer always seemed to have many things that were "exclusive"

to him.

Still, learning was always a good thing. Zhao Yu was not picky.

"Then I'll have to trouble you."

He gave a slight bow.

Hamir casually waved a hand, as though brushing dust from the air. "No need for such formalities.

Let's begin."

As soon as he finished speaking, Hamir raised an arm.

Without warning, a length of dark golden chain condensed between his fingers. It did not seem to be made of metal, but rather some kind of solidified light.

Zhao Yu recognized it.

It looked very much like something the sorcerer named Strange had once used. It was simply another variation of the shield incantation, a condensed magical weapon.

This was worth calling "exclusive"

?

"Don't look at it like that."

Hamir had clearly caught the subtle change in his expression, and his voice suddenly rose. "Watch carefully."

With a short shout, the quietly hanging chain abruptly came alive.

It did not simply lengthen or split—it exploded outward in an instant, dividing into hundreds of writhing streams of golden light.

Each one seemed to possess ** life, winding through the air, reaching out, crossing over one another, and making faint hissing sounds like snakes flicking their tongues.

Their paths of movement never repeated, like an abruptly blooming metallic forest filled with aggression.

Zhao Yu froze.

He was not completely unfamiliar with this sight, but the scale before him and that exquisite level of control truly exceeded everything he had known.

Doctor Strange had once used this move to bind Thanos, though Thanos had quickly broken free.

Hamir noticed the young man's unconvinced expression, and his brows immediately furrowed. "What kind of look is that?"

There was obvious displeasure in his voice. "This is not some trick derived from ordinary runes."

He took two steps forward, the hem of his robe sweeping over the stone floor. "The chains are entwined with the power of a demon god—we call them the Shackles of the Vishanti.

To release them, you must tear the power of a god into hundreds of fine threads, then weave them together one by one."

The old sorcerer's tone carried a hint of pride.

He had prepared this spell specifically to test Zhao Yu.

How could it be something a beginner could easily touch? It required a mind as precise as an embroidery needle, along with reserves as inexhaustible as a deep well.

Hamir even felt that those called ** masters might not necessarily be able to master it easily.

This had nothing to do with talent. It was purely a skill honed by time—only those who had lived alongside magic for years could possibly find the knack.

If one could truly learn this, the road to becoming a ** master would basically be paved.

As for the young man before him? Hamir secretly shook his head.

Forget apprentices—even experienced sorcerers might not succeed.

If he could really learn it so easily, Hamir might as well give him his title as a ** master.

How could there be such an existence in the world that defied common sense?

Absolutely impossible.

***

Zhao Yu put away his previous casual attitude and fixed his gaze on Hamir once more.

Looking closely now, those light-forged chains did indeed seem somewhat different from the ones Doctor Strange had used in his memories.

The links were finer, and the dim light flowing through their patterns flickered like breathing. The air was filled with a mingled scent of rust and old parchment.

The chains gleamed platinum-white, almost solid, without the sparks usually scattered by rune weapons.

Zhao Yu could sense that something far older flowed within them—not the simple golden glow of a basic Magic Shield, but power from the Vishanti, belonging to the very source of white magic.

Hamir had not exaggerated. This truly was no ordinary trick.

The old man's lips curved as he watched the easygoing expression fade from the young man's face. "Come here."

He beckoned, his voice carrying a trace of barely perceptible pride. "Let me tell you how this thing works."