Chapter 30

This man could no longer hear any other sounds.

"Master came to Kamar-Taj specifically,"

he changed the subject, his tone still steady. "This is hardly a safe place for you now.

"If Master is willing, you should leave while you still can—"

He did not finish.

But he knew the other person understood.

Wind poured out from the ripples, carrying a chill that did not belong to this season.

The figure stood in the shadows, speaking with an unnatural calm in his voice. "I came for only one purpose—you."

Zhao Yu remembered how the other man had taught him to tear open cracks in space.

Those gestures, those spells, those techniques that warped the air into a mirror—all of them had come from the man now standing before him.

His fingertips still retained the sting of being cut by the edges of space during practice, and that man had indeed given him the key to greater power.

"What you taught me,"

Zhao Yu said, his throat tight, "at least lets me pretend I never saw you."

The air was thick with the scent of dust and metal.

The old wooden floor creaked faintly beneath his feet.

Light slanted in from the high windows, illuminating tiny particles drifting through the air.

The man stepped forward.

The click of his leather heel echoed through the empty room.

"I'm only an apprentice,"

Zhao Yu said.

"No."

"An ordinary—"

"You were never ordinary."

There was an unusual tremor in the other man's voice, like the lingering resonance of a string pulled taut too violently.

Zhao Yu saw that pair of hands trembling slightly. It was not fear, but a deeper kind of excitement.

"Come with me.

"Cross the boundary of death.

"Touch the essence of time.

"The secret even Ancient One wishes to keep for herself—you can have it too."

The temperature in the room seemed to drop several degrees.

Zhao Yu could feel the hairs on the back of his neck standing up.

"What if I say no?"

The other man bared his teeth.

It was not a friendly expression.

"Then I'll have to make the choice for you."

A faint sound sliced through the air.

Like some metal object being sharply drawn from its sheath.

Zhao Yu's pupils caught the distortion of a beam of light—a transparent blade extended from between the man's fingers, its edge faintly glowing in the air.

The shape of that blade was familiar to Zhao Yu.

It was the form he himself had practiced countless times, folding space into the shape of a weapon through sheer will.

Except now, that blade was pointed at him.

"Looks like we can't talk this out."

Zhao Yu bent down, his arm tracing a semicircle.

When he straightened again, a transparent edge had formed in his palm as well.

Light refracted off the blade's surface, casting twisted patterns across the walls.

Compared to the trembling blade of light that had threatened to collapse at any moment during his earliest training, what he held now was completely different.

Its edge was sharper, its substance denser. As he held it, he could feel space resisting him, flowing along the blade's spine like water.

The figure narrowed his eyes.

The man said, "You truly are the most gifted person I've ever seen."

As the words fell, he extended his palm as if inviting something.

"Come with us.

"That endless life is waiting for you."

His name was Kaecilius.

"No."

Zhao Yu gave his answer.

The two invisible blades collided with a muffled boom.

Sparks burst from between their edges, like the flashes thrown off by grinding steel against steel.

Then came a series of rapid impacts.

The two men constantly switched positions within the cramped space.

In just a few seconds, those unseen blades had clashed hundreds of times.

The Mirror Dimension Zhao Yu stood in—those houses, those walls, everything that had once stood upright—collapsed into fragments.

Nothing remained on the ground but rubble and dust.

"Zhao Yu, you truly have talent."

"But you chose the wrong path."

"Everything will end.

"The temperature will fall, and this planet will die as well."

"But in the Dark Dimension, even time has no need to exist."

"This world does not need rules.

"Like everywhere else, it can become part of Dormammu."

"That would be a beautiful sight."

Kaecilius spoke with utmost seriousness.

But Zhao Yu noticed something.

A red mark had appeared between the man's brows.

The area around his eyes was beginning to darken too, his skin seeming to tear apart and expose the flesh beneath.

He looked somewhat terrifying.

Yet Kaecilius himself seemed completely unaware of it.

He seemed to think all of this was perfectly normal.

In his mind, becoming one with Dormammu truly seemed like a reward.

Something very good.

Zhao Yu sighed.

That man had once been one of Kamar-Taj's finest sorcerers.

Yet after being defeated by him, he had become like this.

It was truly regrettable.

But then again, no matter who it was, they would probably find it difficult to endure something like that.

"What a pity,"

Zhao Yu said softly.

The sound of knuckles brushing against metal was faint, like the fine rustling left behind when a snake shed its skin.

Across from the man named Kaecilius, four clusters of red light slowly took shape in the air—they rotated, expanded, and finally solidified into rings.

Zhao Yu did not move a finger.

The rings floated at his waist like four open eyes, equally spaced apart and spinning at exactly the same speed.

When he spoke, there was no unnecessary tremor in his throat. "I didn't want to use this method on you."

Kaecilius stared at those rings.

He had seen the Ring of Raggadorr—every apprentice at Kamar-Taj had learned it.

But it required both hands working together, the trajectories traced by one's fingertips matching with perfect precision, and one's entire body drawn tight like a bow.

No one had ever made them float on their own, move on their own, and seek out angles on their own.

"Your hands..."

Kaecilius's voice changed pitch, like sandpaper rubbing against glass. "Your hands didn't move at all."

That was right.

Zhao Yu's hands hung at his sides, palms facing inward and fingers relaxed.

He had not even clenched his fists.

Yet the four rings began to revolve slowly around one another, like planets around a star, always maintaining the distance of a perfect equilateral quadrilateral.

When one ring tilted slightly and blocked a blade of light Kaecilius hurled at him, the other three adjusted their angles almost simultaneously.

They were not defending.

They were weaving a net.

"True magic,"

Zhao Yu stepped forward, the sole of his shoe grinding over shattered stone tiles with a crisp crackle, "never needed all those flashy movements."

His right hand half-clenched.

The sound of cloth tearing rang through the air—two short blades formed from light grew from between his fingers, slender and edged with cold white brilliance.

The instant he charged forward, the four rings moved with him like loyal guards, sealing off every angle around him.

The blades came down.

Kaecilius raised both arms to block. The collision of their powers did not produce the sound of metal, but a deeper roar—like thunder rolling up from beneath the earth.

A shockwave exploded between them and spread across the ground in every direction. Stone tiles cracked and rubble flew wherever it passed.

The fissure extended dozens of meters before finally stopping at a wall.

Kaecilius's forearms trembled.

He took one step back, then another.

His heels slipped over the rubble, and he nearly lost his balance.

Zhao Yu's next strike was already upon him, slashing down from above at an angle as treacherous as something slipping through Death's fingers.

"Impossible—"

For the first time, a crack appeared in Kaecilius's voice.

He remembered what it had felt like when he summoned Dormammu.

When that dark power had poured into his body, it had been like boiling oil flooding his veins, every inch of bone remade through pain.

He had thought he had become stronger—strong enough to crush every obstacle.

But now, his knees were going weak.

"You..."

Kaecilius's lips trembled as he forced out several broken syllables. "Why... are you stronger than me..."

He was one hundred percent certain.

In this ancient hall, no one could be his opponent.

But now, the young man named Zhao Yu stood before him like a wall.

Kaecilius's fingertips trembled.

Decades of arduous training, coupled with the power granted by Dormammu—he clenched his fists until his knuckles turned white—yet he could not even stop a newcomer who had studied for half a month?

"Impossible!"

His voice squeezed out of his throat like sandpaper scraping iron.

"You've only touched magic books for a few days! What gives you the right to stand above me?!"

Rage burned his eye sockets red.

Two Spatial Blades sprang from his hands, producing fine cracking sounds as they cut through the air.

Space itself was tearing apart, as if someone were ripping through a thick piece of cloth.

Even a monster like the Hulk would be reduced to minced flesh if struck by that.

But four Rings of Raggadorr floated around Zhao Yu, their orange halos layered together like shields.

The spatial tears struck them, splashing only a few ripples before dispersing.

Zhao Yu looked at the man before him.

Black mist seeped from Kaecilius's body, thick and sticky like scorched asphalt, hissing as it crawled across the ground.

That dark matter tried to burrow into Zhao Yu's skin, only to be stopped by an invisible barrier.

The Spatial Blade in Kaecilius's hand had changed color as well—black veins now crawled across its once-transparent surface, pulsing like blood vessels. It looked both ugly and sinister.

Zhao Yu sighed.

"Master Kaecilius."

His voice was calm, like he was bidding farewell to an old friend.

"For the sake of what you taught me."

He raised his head.

"Apprentice Zhao Yu will send you on your way today."

He clenched his teeth and spoke those syllables.

"Vishanti's Sacred Sword."

The moment the final word fell, the temperature in the entire hall plummeted.

He spread his palm, and a ball of light squeezed out from between his fingers, rapidly lengthening into a sword over two meters long.

The blade gleamed with a cold platinum light, its edges like molten metal. A faint hum could be heard in the air.

The man opposite him had his pupils suddenly constrict.

Kaecilius's lips twitched, his Adam's apple bobbing as heavy breaths mixed into his voice. "You... what kind of monster are you?"

Fear leaked from his words, impossible to suppress.

It had only been a few days. Staring at the sword, he felt as though icy water had flooded his chest.

The aura emanating from the Sacred Sword in Zhao Yu's hand was even more profound than the power Kaecilius had painstakingly cultivated for years.

He even felt that not even the Sorcerer Supreme at the height of his power had been any stronger.

The oppressive force in the air grew heavier and heavier, as though an invisible hand had clenched around his lungs.

Kaecilius suddenly flung both arms outward.

A massive Magic Shield appeared out of thin air, covered in a faint golden rune-like glow, its edges thick and heavy like the battlements of a fortress.

This was the most powerful defensive spell recorded in the texts of Kamar-Taj—Shield of the Seraphim.

He still remembered that scene. In some worn-out footage, Doctor Strange had used this very shield to forcibly stop a high-speed diving spaceship in midair.

No one knew the shield's toughness better than he did.

Yet Zhao Yu acted as though he did not see the wall of light at all.

Not even the slightest ripple crossed his face. He raised the sword high, then brought it straight down.

Boom—

The instant the deafening blast erupted, the ground seemed as though its heart had been struck by a giant hammer.

Rubble and dirt shot into the air. The surging shockwave rolled into a small mushroom cloud, while gray-brown dust spread outward like a wall in every direction.

When the smoke cleared slightly, a deep crater spanning more than ten meters had appeared in the ground. Steam still rose from the soil around its edges, and the stench of scorching mixed with dust flooded the nose.

Zhao Yu raised a hand, his sleeve sweeping through the air.

The swirling dust vanished as if wiped away by an invisible hand, and his vision became clear again.

A figure lay at the bottom of the crater.

Kaecilius's clothes had long since been shredded into strips hanging from his body, exposing skin covered in dirt and bloody wounds.

He gasped for breath, his chest heaving like a torn bellows.

Zhao Yu stepped forward, his boots crunching softly over the rubble.

He stopped at the edge of the crater and looked down at the person below.

"Master Kaecilius,"

he said, neither loudly nor softly, as if stating something already destined. "I hope that in your next life, you choose the right path."