The next day.
Stephen and Palmer arrived at the training grounds early in the morning.
The two wore coarse cloth training uniforms cinched at the waist, while Apocalypse was still dressed in casual clothes.
By then, dozens of uninitiated disciples had already gathered at the training grounds in advance.
When they saw Apocalypse enter, they all addressed him as "Mr. Tang" and bowed their heads slightly in greeting.
Apocalypse nodded slightly in return.
Palmer asked, "Tang, you're a mage here, aren't you? Why are they bowing to you?"
Apocalypse shook his head. "No. Quite the opposite. I know a little of everything, except magic. I'm not a mage."
Stephen did not believe him. "As far as I know, superheroes come in strength-based types, like the Hulk; god-powered types, like the legendary Thor; equipment-based types, like Iron Man. There are also mutants who can even control people's minds."
"Are you sure you can do all of that?"
Apocalypse nodded. "I can. And more than what you mentioned."
Palmer said, "What a boast! Where's your equipment, then? You even came here by plane. Forget flying—you didn't even bring any luggage."
She was close to Apocalypse, so although she was questioning him too, her tone was completely different from Stephen's sharp sarcasm. It sounded more like friendly teasing.
Apocalypse smiled. "I don't need it right now, so I didn't ask Iron Man for any."
Naturally, Stephen did not believe him. Just as he was about to say something else, the Ancient One arrived.
The Ancient One calmly introduced Stephen to the disciples, automatically ignoring Apocalypse and Palmer.
Then she began explaining the introductory methods of cultivation.
Guiding these basic exercises had originally been the job of other mages.
But because of Stephen, the Ancient One had no choice but to teach them personally.