[Starting as a Class 5 Mutant] Chapter 339/340 (Patreon)

The trio was left in a state of confusion and doubt.

Syd glanced at them, his calm demeanor undisturbed by their words. Looking at Wanda, Pietro, and Stan, he spoke plainly, "Vengeance is something you should pursue on your own."

Pausing briefly, he added, "You want power? Shelter?"

"I can recommend a place for you."

Wanda, Pietro, and Stan, who had been disheartened, suddenly perked up, exchanging glances.

What place?

Ignoring their reaction, Syd continued, "The place is called Kamar-Taj…"

He proceeded to share its location with them, confident that Kaecilius would take an interest in them.

To ensure they wouldn't forget, Syd kindly used the Mind Stone to implant the information directly into their minds.

Having done this, Syd moved swiftly, taking Ultron and vanishing into the sky.

Watching the White Knight disappear, the trio stood in uneasy silence.

Kamar-Taj? What kind of place is that?
A place that could grant them power and shelter?

They couldn't picture what such a place might be, their minds full of uncertainty.

Meanwhile, Syd, now far away, cast a thoughtful look at the sentinel robot containing Ultron.

He deliberated over how best to deal with the AI.

If I destroy him outright, he might respawn through another robot.

After pondering for a while, Syd decided to first eliminate Ultron's sub-bodies before finishing off the core.

His eyes glowed red as chaos magic infused with the Mind Stone's power invaded Ultron's programming.

In a flash, a torrent of chaotic, vast information flooded Syd's mind.

After some time, he identified the locations of all of Ultron's sub-bodies.

With this information in hand, the solution became clear.

Soon, beams of radiant sunlight rained down from the sky like orbital strikes, relentlessly bombarding the ground.

One by one, industrial robots and sentinels were obliterated.

"You!" Ultron's voice was filled with panic.

After eliminating all of the sub-bodies, Syd turned his gaze to Ultron's core.

In a secluded area, Syd unleashed his chaos magic.

[Chaos Magic Proficiency +1]

In an instant, red energy enveloped Ultron.

"No!"

Desperation and unwillingness filled Ultron's eyes.

But under the onslaught of chaos magic, his essence was completely erased.

To be thorough, Syd followed up with a scaled-down Sunshine blast.

[Sunshine Proficiency +1]

The radiant sunlight swept across the area where Ultron had been, erasing all traces of matter, energy, and even information.

In such conditions, even as an artificial intelligence, Ultron had no chance of resurrection. The notion of data transfer was utterly impossible.

Finally ridding himself of the troublesome AI, Syd exhaled in relief.

That's one problem solved…

With that done, his attention turned back to Sunshine and the visions from the black stone.

Just as he prepared to retrieve the black stone, another thought crossed his mind.

Kamar-Taj.

...

Elsewhere, Doctor Stephen Strange stared at his hands in silence.

Despite his progress in learning magic, his injured hands remained unchanged.

He had asked both Wong and Mordo how to heal them, but their answer was always the same: the time wasn't right, and he needed to deepen his magical knowledge.

Frustrated by their vague responses, Strange found his patience wearing thin.

Without the recent appearances of Morris and Kaecilius, he might have continued his studies quietly. But…

Strange's heart raced as he recalled the immense power displayed by Morris and the even greater strength of Kaecilius.

Simply by worshiping a so-called dimensional demon, these two gained unparalleled power?!

While Morris's connection to Dormammu carried an undeniable cost, Strange dismissed it as unworthy of consideration. But Kaecilius…

Kaecilius's words echoed in his mind:

"All you need to do is worship the dimensional demon, and divine power will be granted to you…"

The promise of divine power was staggering.

Not only could it restore youth, but it also enhanced magical talent and amplified the power of spells.

If I gained that so-called divine power, wouldn't my hands be healed as well?

Restoring youth seemed far more challenging than healing injuries, so this should be simple enough.

Strange hesitated, torn between skepticism and temptation.

Most enticingly, Kaecilius had assured him there was no cost other than belief.

No cost? How is that possible?

Even the use of white magic required borrowed energy, which would eventually demand repayment.

Yet here was an offer that required nothing but faith…

The idea both intrigued and unsettled him.

Still, he couldn't shake the fear that it was all a ruse, that Kaecilius's power was merely bait.

After a long internal struggle, Strange finally made up his mind.

I'll try it. If something feels off, I'll pull back immediately.

Five minutes later…

Hearing a knock, Kaecilius opened the door, surprised to see Strange standing there.

"Have you taken an interest in the great demon's power?" Kaecilius asked with amusement.

Strange felt a wave of embarrassment but said nothing.

Kaecilius, sensing an opportunity to recruit a new believer, began teaching Strange how to pray.

Soon, Strange clumsily recited the incantation under Kaecilius's guidance.

Watching Strange's half-hearted, doubtful demeanor, Kaecilius frowned momentarily before relaxing.

Even the smallest amount of faith would grant a fraction of power from the great master.

Kaecilius was confident—once someone experienced that power, they would never turn away.

As if to affirm his thoughts, Strange's expression abruptly shifted, his face betraying shock and awe.

(End of Chapter)

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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