Within a Mirror Dimension, the Ancient One used magic to block the path of her apostate disciple, Kaecilius, who was attempting to flee.
She gazed at her former student before her, her eyes filled with disappointment.
“Kaecilius, give up the dark magic.
Dormammu will eventually consume you.” Kaecilius sneered, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
“Hypocrite!
You are the one who has stolen the most power from the darkness, yet you refuse to pass this great power on to your students!” A sense of helplessness welled up within the Ancient One.
Drawing life from the Dark Dimension was a necessity—she was waiting, waiting for the fated successor to take up the mantle of the Sorcerer Supreme.
She had lived for too long, so long that life itself had become a burden.
Her only solace was that the one she awaited would be the most outstanding of all the Sorcerers Supreme throughout the ages.
Unfortunately, that person had not yet awakened to their mission and was still practicing surgery in a New York hospital.
The Ancient One spoke no more.
Her hands instantly formed seals, and a magic circle shimmered with light as it surged toward Kaecilius.
Amidst the assault, her voice carried a profound sorrow: “Kaecilius, why did you murder her descendant?
Centuries ago, she was one of my most promising students.
Now, only Enya’s lineage remains…
Has Dormammu’s power truly made you this bloodthirsty?” Kaecilius knew he was no match for the Sorcerer Supreme—if the Ancient One exerted her full power, she could even contend with the dimensional demon, Dormammu.
While secretly signaling the Zealots beside him to prepare for self-destruction, he had already quietly gripped his Sling Ring, preparing to teleport.
“I killed her only because she foolishly rejected the God’s gift and refused to listen to His teachings.
To possess magical talent beyond ordinary people yet refuse to accept the God’s power…
only death can allow her to witness His greatness.” Kaecilius’s words were full of manipulation, an attempt to distract the Ancient One.
The Ancient One’s gaze grew even more pained.
This former student had completely become Dormammu’s puppet.
Several violent explosions suddenly erupted—the Zealots sacrificed themselves, and dark magic energy burst forth like a tide.
Seizing this moment of chaos, Kaecilius quickly slashed open a portal and vanished to a hidden location beyond the Ancient One’s perception.
The magic circle in the Ancient One’s hand rotated slightly, transforming into a fan-shaped radiance that quietly brushed away the raging Impact.
The Mirror Dimension returned to silence, empty.
She shook her head silently, turned, and stepped out to return to the Sanctum Sanctorum—it could not be left unguarded, as even a brief absence carried the risk of being lured away from her post.
…
In the real World, Kara stepped onto the podium where Grandma Enya was, only to be surprised to find that the old woman still had a breath of life left.
She propped up the dying Grandma Enya, her mind racing to figure out how to quietly get her medical treatment.
At this moment, Grandma Enya was gravely injured—she had been closest to the center of the explosion.
Even with the “Shield of Seraphim,” a defensive spell solidified on her magical pendant, she could not withstand the direct Impact of such powerful dark magic.
Feeling someone supporting her, she spoke with a voice as thin as a thread: “Child…
thank you for your kindness.
I won’t make it…
the dark magic has already eroded my body.
If you really want to help me, take the key from my pocket…
go to the magic house in the suburbs.
There is a letter on the table…
take it to Kamar-Taj and give it to the Sorcerer Ancient One.
The magic house…
and the pages from the ‘Book of Vishanti’ that I copied, consider them your reward.” Kara frowned.
Kamar-Taj had always been difficult to find; she had always thought it was nothing more than a legend.
How was she supposed to find it?
She was about to urge Grandma Enya not to give up, but the other woman had already used the last of her strength to murmur, “Thank you, child…” Then her breath faded, and she passed away.
Kara was caught in a dilemma.
Grandma Enya’s magical items were crucial to her, but where exactly were “Kamar-Taj” and the “Sorcerer Ancient One”?
How was she to fulfill this dying wish?
“Never mind,” Kara thought.
“I’ll take the things first and look for them later.
Maybe…
I’ll get lucky and stumble upon it.” She comforted herself this way.
Outside, the 911 sirens grew louder as they approached.
Kara quickly fished out Grandma Enya’s key and the pages, then vanished in a flash, quietly leaving the scene…
In the night wind, Kara took out the key and the pages to examine them closely.
A faint glimmer appeared on the key, as if it were guiding her in a certain direction; on those few pages, the gold-powdered handwriting shimmered with a faint glow under the moonlight, concealing an indescribable magic.
“The Book of Vishanti…” Kara fell into deep thought.
Although Grandma Enya had said these were just rubbings, the fact that she carried them so carefully indicated their importance.
Her eyes swept over the pages—the text on them had been translated into modern language.
Roughly reading them, these three pages recorded three spells: “Shield of Seraphim,” “Sword of Vishanti,” and “Images of Ikonn.” Kara was unconsciously drawn to these spells.
The wind in her ears gradually slowed, and time seemed to decelerate—within the pages, all of Grandma Enya’s understanding and memories of these three spells seemed to be sealed.
Kara absorbed the knowledge as naturally as breathing, but she soon discovered a problem: she simply could not communicate with “Vishanti.” To cast these spells, one must have a source of power.
Without a connection to Vishanti, even if she learned the incantations, she could not release any magic.
Kara emerged from her immersed state.
At this moment, she knew the three spells by heart, but the awkward part was—without a source of mana, it was all talk.
In her helplessness, she could only pin her hopes on Grandma Enya’s magic house, hoping there might be a solution there.
The night wind howled, and the night view of Manhattan receded rapidly in Kara’s eyes.
Before long, she arrived at the location guided by the key.
As she approached the area, the key emitted a bright flash, and a small house slowly emerged from behind an invisible magical curtain.
With a “click,” the door opened automatically.
The interior was simply furnished; besides various magical apparatuses, there were only daily necessities and a wooden table.
Kara spotted the letter on the table at a glance.
Without needing to open it, her X-ray vision allowed her to see the contents—it turned out that Grandma Enya’s ancestor had been a student of the Sorcerer Ancient One.
After the dark wizard named Kaecilius came to her door, Grandma Enya knew her time was short because she had refused his recruitment, so she wrote this letter, both to thank the Sorcerer Ancient One for the gift of her lineage and to say a final farewell.
A hint of sorrow rose in Kara’s heart.
The struggles between sorcerers were actually this dangerous—while there were righteous sorcerers protecting the World, there were also evil ones attempting to drag it into darkness.
She composed herself and looked around the magic house.
The room was filled with a vast ocean of magical grimoires.
Kara immediately activated her Super Speed and flipped through every single book.
She discovered that if she wanted to cast spells without relying on the power of Vishanti, the only way was to find an alternative energy source.
Kara had zero interest in “borrowing” power from other demon gods—that would only corrode the soul.
If she didn’t borrow power from demon gods, she had to find another way: either use her own psionic energy or rely on natural or man-made objects that stored mana.
Kara knew she had no “psionic energy”—she had a Kryptonian body; her blood and bones originated from that distant Planet, and psionic energy did not exist within her.
Lacking internal psionic energy, she could only rely on external objects.
However, energy sources sufficient to support powerful spells were extremely rare.
Even Grandma Enya, in her nearly century-long magical career, had only found one type of green magic stone to craft magical items that stored spells.
Fortunately, there were still some green magic stones left by Grandma Enya.
Kara could follow the records in her notes to craft a batch of new magical items herself.
As for why she didn’t just absorb the mana from the magic stones—Kara had already tried, only to find that not only could she not call upon the power of Vishanti, but she couldn’t even absorb the mana from the magic stones.
As soon as any external mana entered her body, it would be instantly dispersed by the surging Superman energy within her Kryptonian bloodline.
Therefore, if Kara wanted to use the power of magic, her only option was to solidify the spells within artifacts, making them completely independent of her body.
Not being able to use mana also meant she could hardly learn other spells—because magic required actual casting to understand its circuit structure, it wasn’t just about reciting incantations.
The three spells she currently mastered were entirely due to the memory inheritance Grandma Enya had sealed within the pages.
But Kara wasn’t greedy.
She had her own power and didn’t need a replacement.
What she sought was merely a means to counter magic.
Concentrating her mind, she found several magic stones and began refining and processing them using the magical apparatus in the house, following the steps in the book.
After becoming a Kryptonian, her thinking speed also far exceeded that of ordinary people.
In just a few moments, several pendants had taken shape.
Among them, the “Shield of Seraphim” pendants were the most numerous, with over twenty pieces; there were also more than a dozen pendants for the “Sword of Vishanti” and “Images of Ikonn.” These pendants were easy to use; one only had to crush them to release the solidified spell within.
As for other spells—Kara did not understand their magical circuits, so even with the materials in hand, she had no way to craft them.