…


  "Hurry up! Strange, don't dawdle!"

  The sky was radiant with misty light, and a loud voice rang in Kamar Taj.

  "Wong, pour a glass of lemonade for this pussy who is even weaker than your 80-year-old grandmother and doesn't look like a master at all."

  Luke, Thor, and Rocket Raccoon, as well as Wong, the master who was responsible for making breakfast, were sitting on the wooden balcony, dominating the high ground.

  Below was the winding mountain trail, where Strange, who was wearing heavy armor, ran up with thumping sounds. .

  His chest was like a bellows, making wheezing and gasping sounds.

  Reaching his destination wasn't easy. His legs were already weak, unstable, almost rolling down.

  "Water! Give me… a sip!"

  Strange lifted his visor, his throat burning.

  Wong thoughtfully poured a glass of lemonade and handed over a freshly made cake.

  "Master Strange, your body is a bit weak. You've only run 5 kilometers."

  Thor was picking his teeth and making sarcastic remarks.

  Even when he came to another universe, his daily life didn't change much.

  Kamar Taj's WiFi speed was good, and playing games online was no problem.

  "I am a master, not a berserker …"

  Strange retorted.

  He believed that the training Luke had imposed on him was of little use.

  The masters of the Kamar Taj would indeed practice martial arts to enhance their ability to fight in close quarters.

  But in the end, spells and magic were the most basic and most important part.

  What's the point of doing 100 push-ups and squats and high-intensity physical training every day?

  "It looks like it's time for me to teach you a lesson, Master Strange."

  Luke wiped his mouth clean and whispered, "Throw all your attacking spells at me."

  'What?'

  Strange was stunned, wondering if he had heard wrong.

  It was the first time he had ever heard someone make such a request. What was the difference between this and suicide?

  "Are you sure?"

  Strange asked hesitantly.

  Even high-ranking masters, without any protection, would have a hard time against a few attack spells. Even if they didn't die, they would be severely wounded.

  "Abandon your inner doubts, don't be a pussy. Don't you even have the courage to cast spells? Or are you a coward at heart?"

  Luke kept stimulating his opponent's emotions and laughed lightly, "Strange, with all due respect, your understanding of 'close combat masters' is too one-sided and shallow, and you know nothing about true power."

  "Oh, is that so? In the name of Hoggoth, Oshtur, and Agamotto, I call for the divine light of Vishanti to condense the holy sword!"

  Strange pressed his lips tightly and said no more.

  Sparks of magic erupted and quickly transformed into a long sword, which he held in his hand.

  "Wong, be my witness. He asked for this!"

  Strange held the sacred sword in his hand and slashed it down on his head.

  Although he was wearing heavy armor, his movement was difficult, but he didn't move any slower.

  The red sword cut through the air and landed on Luke's shoulder.

  Crack!

  Like fragile porcelain hitting hard steel.

  It instantly cracked and shattered.

  "This … Crimson Bands of Cyttorak!"

  With an 'unbeliever' look, Strange cast another spell.

  The tough chains, which emitted a deep red glow, firmly wrapped around Luke, who was standing still, and then tightened up.

  "Are you tickling me, Strange?"

  Luke simply moved his arms, causing one of the crimson chains bound to his body to break and turn into fragments.

  Strange was astounded; he didn't feel the slightest aura of magic.

  That was to say, Superman, by virtue of his extraordinary physique, was able to resist layers of attacks.

  "That's impossible …"

  Strange couldn't believe it. The power of magic wasn't enough to even wound a human being?

  "I understand how you feel, but that's just the way it is. It's important to train your mind, learn spells, and build up your magic power."

  Luke earnestly taught him.

  "However, a strong body and persistent exercise are also crucial."

  "If you want to be a high-ranking master, you must have extraordinary strength. Otherwise, how could you withstand the cost of casting spells?"

  Strange was quite touched, and after a moment of contemplation, he nodded and said, "I see. I'm going to run!"

  Knock, knock! Knock, knock!

  Heavy footsteps sounded again.

  Strange, who was exhausted, only felt his body was full of strength.

  He started running against the rising sun.

  "What you just said … was that the truth?"

  Looking at Strange's back disappearing into the mountain trail, Thor curiously asked.

  "I only told him about my own experience. Whether it works or not, Strange needs to put it into practice himself."

  Luke grimaced and replied vaguely.

  …


  …


  New York City, Downtown.

  Wearing a yellow robe, Kaecilius walked into a dark alley.

  He didn't bring his entourage and was alone.

  At the deep end of the alley, there was a wall.

  The hand with the ring slowly moved, and magical sparks jumped out, forming a circle.

  Kaecilius walked in expressionlessly, and a lively atmosphere poured in.

  The smell of alcohol, mixed with perfume and a certain odd scent, was somewhat suffocating.

  This was a bar.

  Inside, it was like Halloween, with all kinds of strangely dressed guests.

  Some of them were dressed in medieval court costumes, wearing brightly colored, intricately patterned long dresses, sitting in the corner.

  Some of them look like indigenous people from the tropical rainforest, wearing collars made of animal teeth and their faces painted.

  There were both gentlemen in western suits and monks in vintage robes.

  This was the [Bar With No Doors].

  As the name implied, it had no entrance or exits.

  So, those guests who could sit at the table and drink and chat…


  They were not ordinary people but masters from all over the world.

  "One tequila, one deal."

  Kaecilius walked to the bar like no one was watching, ignoring those complicated eyes that were either stunned or vigilant.

  However, he had recently been the man of the hour, a defector from Kamar Taj, the fallen master who defected to Dormammu.

  Of course, the most shocking thing was the news that he tried to assassinate the Sorcerer Supreme and injured him.

  This completely stirred up the magical world. From the demons in hell down to the holy spirits in heaven, everyone heard about it.

  The coming Sorcerer Supreme Battle had touched the nerves of all those in the know.

  In any case, the name Kaecilius had spread.

  He represented endless trouble, as the Masters of the Mystic Arts had launched a siege and a hunt.

  He also represented a powerful force because everyone knew that there was a dimensional demon standing behind him.

  "Sorry, I don't deal in this kind of business."

  The bartender was an old man wearing a bowler hat, vest, and white shirt.

  "This tequila is on me. Drink up and get out."

  Kaecilius wasn't surprised. He took a sip of the liquor and whispered, "Monako, you're the famous 'Prince of Magic', but you're also afraid of the Temple of the Three?"

  The old man named 'Monako', who was once a powerful master, was active in World War II and fought against the evil witches of the Axis Powers.

  Later, he opened a bar and entered a life of retirement.

  "Oh, don't use such tricks."

  Monako sneered and wiped the bar table.

  "Of course, I'm afraid of the Temple of the Three, which symbolizes absolute order, the commandment that cannot be violated."

  "Even Mephisto, the old man, was afraid of the Sorcerer Supreme, and even the demon gods hidden in the dimensions were banished."

  "So, why can't an old man like me be afraid?"

  After a moment of silence, Kaecilius pulled out a dozen gold coins from his pocket and tossed them onto the bar.

  The tinkling sound was quite pleasant to hear.

  "Ha, how generous! With a new master, you've become generous."

  Monako recognized them at first glance. Those were Aztec's cursed gold coins.

  It was said that the resentful souls of the dead were attached to them, and any violation of the oath would result in a curse.

  Once, a gang of pirates looted merchant ships and got a box of such gold coins.

  As a result, they became immortal. They were always hungry and never satisfied.

  To a master, this was a precious collection item and a medium for casting spells.

  "Again, I don't deal in this kind of business."

  Monako just glanced at them and withdrew his eyes.

  "I know what you want to ask, Kaecilius."

  "A defector from Kamar Taj wants to take part in the Sorcerer Supreme Battle."

  "Aren't you afraid of being killed on the spot?"

  Kaecilius's expression remained unchanged. His body leaned forward, and his voice lowered, "Monako, I have a spell on a page from the 'Darkhold' in my hands. If you insist on not doing business, I will take it out and place it on the bar."

  "You should know very well how attractive Chthon's dark spells really are to the people in this bar."

  "If they get into a fight, I'm afraid your bar will have to be redecorated."

  Monako's face was clouded for a moment, then he gave Kaecilius a stern look and said, "You win, you damned bastard!"

  "Add four more gold coins, and I'll give you the list of people who are interested in participating in the Sorcerer Supreme Battle!"

  Kaecilius slightly nodded his head and whispered, "Deal."

  A few minutes later, he emerged from the wall of the dark alley again with a list written in cipher in his hand.

  "Mordo, Doctor Voodoo, Magik, Loki … Stephen Strange?"

  Kaecilius snickered. The guy at the end of the list, was this a joke?

  A low-ranking rookie who had only been in Kamar Taj for two years also wanted to win the Sorcerer Supreme's position?

  "Such ignorance."

  With a flick of Kaecilius's hand, the list burst into flames and burned to ashes.

  In his opinion, only a few people could pose a threat to him.

  For example, his old friend Mordo!

  "I hope you don't run into me, or else …"

  Kaecilius chuckled twice, slipped on his hood, and walked out of the dark alley.