As Stephen Strange recited the prayer, his expression shifted to one of astonishment.
Midway through, he noticed a strand of powerful energy entering his body—divine, radiant, and perpetually exuding brilliance.
So this is divine power?!
As the energy coursed through him, warmth spread throughout his body, akin to the comforting embrace of a hot spring.
The most significant moment came when the energy passed through his injured hands. Strange felt a faint trembling and an itch in his hands.
Could it be…?
A startling realization struck him, but just as quickly, disappointment followed.
The strand of energy was far too little. While it caused a slight improvement in his hands, they were far from fully healed.
If only there were more energy…
Strange's desire grew, his attention drawn to the divine energy itself.
He understood why it had appeared and why it was so limited.
It was clearly tied to his level of faith.
Until now, Strange had only offered tentative belief, a half-hearted attempt at faith.
Yet even this small measure of belief had resulted in the granting of divine power, which left him in awe.
"Such generosity from this deity?"
Even with just a hint of faith, divine power had been bestowed. This stood in stark contrast to other dimensional demons, who operated like parasitic overlords.
For Strange, this unprecedented benevolence was difficult to grasp.
Watching Strange's expression of desire, Kaecilius smirked knowingly.
No one can resist the gifts bestowed by the master.
He was confident that Strange's attitude toward the master would soon change drastically.
Meanwhile, Syd observed the scene with interest.
Let's see what choices Stephen Strange makes next.
By the next morning, Strange's demeanor had already begun to shift.
The most obvious sign was that his hands no longer trembled.
Though his faith wasn't particularly devout, the divine power had been sufficient to heal an ordinary injury like his.
With his hands restored, Syd sensed Strange's faith evolving from tentative belief to that of a standard follower.
Inside a dimly lit room, illuminated by two oil lamps, Strange stared at his hands, oscillating between joy and confusion.
Not long after his hands healed, the divine energy flowing from the ether intensified dramatically.
If the previous strand of energy could be measured as a "one," this surge was a "ten"—constant and unbroken, unlike the earlier intermittent trickle.
This transformation left Strange utterly bewildered.
What is happening?
Half an hour later, still reeling, Strange wandered to Kamar-Taj's courtyard, where Mordo was teaching a group of students.
Seeing Strange approach, Mordo paused his lecture and walked over.
"Good morning, Strange. Did you sleep well? How is your magic training progressing?" Mordo asked casually.
Strange, still dazed, replied instinctively, "I feel great… better than ever."
Noticing Strange's distracted state, Mordo frowned. "What's troubling you? Did something frighten you yesterday?"
"Or have you lost confidence in magic?"
Misunderstanding the situation, Mordo attempted to offer encouragement, but before he could continue, Strange smiled.
"No. Quite the opposite. I've never been more confident in magic!"
Mordo was taken aback by the unexpected response.
"Really? In that case, let's spar. Show me how you're doing," Mordo suggested, skeptical of Strange's true state.
Strange considered the proposal and agreed.
Within a minute, the two stood in a spacious but secluded training area.
Though isolated, a few early-rising students noticed them and quickly took an interest.
"Strange is sparring with Master Mordo again?"
"Does he enjoy getting beaten? Masochist, maybe?"
Their playful banter soon turned into laughter.
Meanwhile, the duel began.
Mordo wasted no time showcasing his experience. Utilizing the Vaulting Boots of Valtorr, he leaped through the air at astonishing speed, closing the distance to Strange in seconds.
With both hands, Mordo conjured the Rings of Raggadorr—two small, circular orange magic shields.
The rings served a dual purpose: deflecting enemy attacks and striking with their sharp edges, making them a favored close-combat tool among sorcerers.
Strange, recognizing the spell, quickly conjured his own Rings of Raggadorr to block Mordo's assault.
Orange sparks flew as the two shields clashed mid-air.
However, despite using the same spell, Strange soon found himself outmatched, as expected by the observing students, Mordo, and even Strange himself.
Mordo's superior combat experience, combined with his arsenal of magical artifacts, made him an overwhelming opponent.
Like an unyielding mountain, Mordo's relentless attacks left Strange struggling to keep up.
At one point, Mordo pulled out a black staff from his back—the Staff of the Living Tribunal.
The staff extended, its sections linked by orange magical energy, resembling nunchaku.
With a powerful swing, Mordo struck at Strange.
Though Strange managed to block with the Rings of Raggadorr, the force of the blow sent him flying.
He crashed to the ground with a heavy thud, coughing violently.
From a distance, the observing students exchanged knowing looks, clearly unsurprised by the outcome.
"Classic Strange—always on the losing end."
(End of Chapter)
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"Strange lost."
"I expected as much. No surprise there; he couldn't possibly beat Senior Brother Mordo."
"He'd need at least a few more months of studying magic just to hold his ground against Mordo."
As they whispered among themselves, Mordo looked down at Strange, who had fallen to the ground, and asked, "Are you okay?"
"Alright, that's enough for today. We'll pick this up next time..."
Seeing that Strange seemed fine, Mordo allowed himself a relieved smile and prepared to end the duel.
However, before he could finish his sentence, Strange's voice interrupted, leaving Mordo—and the observing apprentices—stunned.
"No, on the contrary, this fight is far from over. It's only just begun!"
With that, Strange rose to his feet again, assuming a stance to cast magic.
Seeing this, both the apprentices and Mordo couldn't help but facepalm internally.
"Strange, do you always have to be so stubborn?"
"You need to learn when to back down…"
Mordo began circling Strange, applying pressure while preparing to teach him a lesson.
Strange, however, was fully aware that he wasn't a match for Mordo right now. But he had his reasons for continuing—he had a plan.
Feeling the lingering divine power within himself, Strange's heart steadied.
This remaining energy… It should be enough for one or two spells, right?
Recalling the magic that Kaecilius had once demonstrated, Strange felt a surge of anticipation. He prepared to cast a spell he'd only ever read about, one he wasn't even sure he could execute.
"Is this divine power really that miraculous?"
With a mix of doubt and determination, Strange gave it a try.
The next moment, as Mordo watched, ready for Strange's move, his expression shifted to one of astonishment.
The observing apprentices were equally dumbfounded.
Strange moved his hands in a circular motion, and multiple arms appeared around him.
In an instant, he resembled the Thousand-Armed Avalokiteshvara.
As he struck his final pose, numerous duplicates of Stephen Strange materialized across the training ground.
Form of Ikonn!
A high-level spell beyond the reach of most magicians, it created clones that could cast magic themselves.
Powered by divine energy, these clones, which would normally be illusory, seemed almost tangible.
Seeing this, both the apprentices and Mordo were left utterly speechless.
How was this possible?
How could Strange, who had been learning magic for less than ten days, pull off such an advanced spell?
Even Kaecilius, a former prodigy, couldn't manage this spell, let alone Mordo.
And yet, the Form of Ikonn Strange had cast seemed different from what the Ancient One had demonstrated in the past.
While they grappled with their disbelief, Strange made his move.
The thirty or so clones performed the same gestures simultaneously.
Orange magical energy whips materialized, crackling in the air.
The sound of whips slicing through the air filled the training ground as dozens of them flew toward Mordo.
Mordo instinctively tried to dodge, but the sheer number of whips overwhelmed him. The entire area was covered in the orange tendrils, leaving no room for escape.
In the blink of an eye, Mordo was ensnared, the whips binding him tightly and rendering him immobile.
"Mordo, you've lost," Strange said with a smile.
The training ground fell silent.
The apprentices, watching from a distance, broke into incredulous murmurs.
"Mordo lost? How is that possible?!"
"How did he do that?"
"He's only been learning magic for a few days. How could he defeat Senior Brother Mordo?"
Their first reaction was disbelief. It seemed impossible that Strange, a newcomer to magic, could defeat Mordo.
How did he do it?!
As they reeled from the shock, Mordo, equally stunned, asked, "How did you cast the Form of Ikonn?"
"When did you become this strong?"
The Stephen Strange lying defeated moments ago seemed like a completely different person now, leaving Mordo incredulous.
Strange hesitated, his expression shifting uneasily.
Seeing this, Mordo's doubts deepened. He recalled the energy emanating from Strange—eerily similar to Kaecilius's aura. A horrifying thought struck him.
"You… Strange, have you pledged yourself to an unknown dimensional deity?"
The apprentices fell silent, their discussions abruptly cut short.
After a moment of hesitation, Strange nodded.
Mordo's eyes widened in disbelief. "Why?"
"You know how much the Ancient One and I value you, yet you chose to align with a dimensional deity?"
Disappointment clouded Mordo's gaze.
Strange showed little remorse as he replied, "For power…"
After a pause, he added, "I pledged my faith to the deity just one day ago, and now I have the strength to defeat you."
Though they had suspected as much, Mordo and the apprentices were nonetheless stunned by his words.
Not just by Strange's choice, but by the sheer power of the deity he had aligned with.
One day?
In just one day, Stephen Strange had gained enough power to defeat Mordo?
Mordo frowned, his concern evident. "Do you realize the price you'll have to pay?"
"Dimensional deities don't grant power freely…"
Before Mordo could finish, Strange interrupted, "No, there is no price. I only need to offer my faith, and the deity grants me divine power."
"Nothing else is required."
The apprentices and Mordo were left dumbfounded.
Faith alone, and such immense power was granted?
It seemed too good to be true.
How could such a thing exist?!
(End of Chapter)
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