The Himalayas, four thousand meters above sea level.
At that altitude, an ordinary person would most likely already be dizzy and short of breath, wishing they could use an oxygen tank as a pillow.
Yet among these snowbound ridges stood a complex of buildings that had no business being there.
That's right. Kamar-Taj.
Ancient buildings stood in an orderly arrangement throughout the valley, prayer flags fluttering in the wind between their upturned eaves and ornate brackets.
The whole complex looked as if it had been copied and pasted straight from a few hundred years ago. Fortunately, it had WiFi. The password was hhhhgysl.
In the courtyard, more than twenty apprentices in robes were practicing magic.
A young apprentice gestured with both hands for quite a while before a faint yellow spark finally appeared in his palm.
He nearly jumped for joy and turned to show off to the person beside him, only to find that person had already opened a portal with his bare hands.
The young apprentice's smile froze.
Damn it, how could the gap between people be so huge?
In an old-fashioned meditation room behind the courtyard, however, the atmosphere was much more relaxed.
Water bubbled and steamed in a copper kettle, and the faint fragrance of tea drifted through the room.
Two people sat on opposite sides of a low tea table.
On the left was a bald woman.
Strangely, she had no eyebrows. She wore a long yellow robe, and her face gave no indication of her age. A faint smile always lingered on her lips.
She gave off the impression that she knew everything but simply wouldn't say.
This was the Sorcerer Supreme, the Ancient One.
On the right was a slightly overweight middle-aged man with a round face and a serious expression. He wore