Chapter 135: Mirror Space, the Form of Aiken (Second Update)

"Hmph!"

Kaecilius’s expression was grim. As a Master of the Mystic Arts of Kamar-Taj, he was well-versed in the affairs of Kun-Lun next door. Though they lacked the sheer numbers of their counterparts, in terms of elite and high-end combat power, they were not a whit inferior—perhaps even stronger. The Sorcerer Supreme was simply in a league of her own.

Kamar-Taj and the three Sanctums had always monitored anything that could threaten Earth, especially interdimensional or extraterrestrial visitors. This naturally included Kun-Lun, that mysterious city located in an extra-dimensional realm, one of the legendary Seven Heavenly Cities of the East.

Kaecilius knew more about the Iron Fist than even The Hand or The Chaste; he could recite the approximate arrival times of every Iron Fist in history, the last one having appeared twenty years ago. He understood exactly how an Iron Fist was born, and thus he knew this current one had only received twenty years of Shou-Lao’s power—weak and pathetic. He had expected his apprentices to handle the arrogant Iron Fist easily, but they had failed, and the opponent’s strength far exceeded his expectations.

The Darkhold was a must-have. With his minions nearly wiped out, the boss had to abandon game mechanics and intervene personally.

A Master of the Mystic Arts was naturally different. His speed in summoning magical whips and shields, along with every other facet of his craft, was far faster and more potent than that of his apprentices. In terms of pure hand-to-hand combat, he was on par with Stick.

Wong’s gaze was sharp, and he assessed Kaecilius’s strength at a glance: a hybrid of a high-level mage and a standard martial monk, at least in terms of mana if not raw power. Kamar-Taj was structured like a fractured pyramid: the Sorcerer Supreme, the Ancient One, stood at the pinnacle, a legend among legends, while beneath her, there was no one capable of holding the line—only a group of mediocre characters. By certain metrics, the Ancient One was a Skyfather-level entity, yet below her, there wasn't even a sub-Skyfather or Earth-god level combatant; Loki could likely wipe them all out single-handedly. Poor Ancient One, terrified of even dying, forced to hold the line against her will, waving goodbye to the Eternity she once summoned.

In the films, the display of power was limited by budget and technology, but Kaecilius, in terms of his understanding of magic and the breadth of spells he commanded, was no less formidable than the "renal-deficient" mage of the future, with an endless arsenal of spells at his disposal.

Right before Wong’s eyes, Kaecilius vanished. Even the half-baked mage years later could perform telekinesis and teleportation; for a Master of the Mystic Arts like Kaecilius, this was child’s play.

The true strength of a mage lay in mystery and the element of surprise. But to Wong’s perception, everything was as transparent as a woman’s parted legs—every movement left a trail. Any spellcasting inevitably caused mana fluctuations, and this teleportation-like spell could not escape his senses.

Kaecilius’s lips curled into an involuntary smirk, his blade poised to pierce Wong’s heart from behind. Suddenly, a fist magnified in his vision.

The next moment, he felt dizzy, his head swimming with stars as if he were staring into the depths of the cosmos.

"A mage who doesn't fight at range but dares to engage in melee?" Wong was at a loss for words. What kind of magic did Kamar-Taj possess to cultivate a group of melee-obsessed mages? Why were their skill trees so skewed? "Ancient One, the name fits the person—I deeply suspect you did this on purpose!"

Pressing his advantage, Wong surged forward, intent on crushing his opponent with sheer physical power. In any theater of war, strength was usually the deciding factor, and Wong had plenty of experience in that regard.

Suddenly, Kaecilius vanished again, reappearing twenty meters away. Such a short distance was nothing, but Wong narrowed his eyes; the surroundings had changed. The walls, the floor, the ceiling—everything was twisting and pressing in upon him.

Many spells could rewrite reality, which was why Kamar-Taj had strict regulations: all high-potency spells were to be practiced only within the Mirror Dimension. Even the Sorcerer Supreme would drag her enemies into the Mirror Dimension before a fight to avoid irreparable damage to the real world. However, those spells capable of truly rewriting reality either required tapping into the Dark Dimension or were so complex that neither Kaecilius nor the librarian could perform them.

Reality hadn't been rewritten, but they were no longer in reality. Wong easily sensed the shift in space-time; this was a temporary space created by magic, a mirror of the real world. Though limited by his capability, the Mirror Dimension Kaecilius created was not vast—containing only the Azeroth laboratory—but to anyone other than a mage, it remained a terrifying spell. In the Mirror Dimension, a mage could fold the fabric of space at will. It was the mage’s home turf.

"This is my world. The world of a mage."

"Here, I can destroy everything!"

"One last chance: hand over the Darkhold, and I will spare your life!"

Kaecilius retreated at high speed, or rather, the space between him and Wong stretched and folded. Walls and windows pressed down on Wong, everything shifting like a dream. This was the true power of a mage—the only thing that barely qualified as a "real" mage. A mage’s strength was never just about attack power; "mobile turret" was just a nickname. A true mage’s greatest skill was always crowd control.

The world spun; Kaecilius had twisted space and direction. He had twisted everything. The few remaining apprentices gathered around Kaecilius, but Skye and Daredevil were nowhere to be seen near Wong.

They were still in the real world. An invisible force field had isolated the inside from the outside, two separate worlds. They were right beside him, yet it felt as if they were separated by thousands of mountains and rivers. At this critical moment, Wong had to fight alone.

"Thank you," Wong suddenly smiled.

"Huh?" Kaecilius was completely baffled. *You’ve lost your help. Neither the Inhuman who manipulates seismic waves nor the blind master of kung fu is easy to deal with, and the other two masters who were about to join the fray are trapped outside the mirror. Shouldn't you be afraid? Shouldn't you be nervous? Shouldn't you be surrendering in despair?*

"I had some reservations before, having to look after others at all times. Every life in this laboratory is more precious than all of yours combined, and I would have felt the loss of any one of them," Wong stretched his limbs and cracked his neck, his tone unexpectedly relaxed. "Now, I can finally get a little serious!"

"Is that so? How arrogant!" Kaecilius sneered. He brought his hands together in front of his chest, then pulled them apart, extending them to either side. Two arms remained in place, while two more appeared at his chest, and then two more. In less than two seconds, he had become a thousand-armed Guanyin.

Then, he multiplied. Hundreds of Kaecilius figures appeared, surrounding Wong from all sides like crazed fans swarming an idol. Pairs of eyes stared at him, sparks of hatred crackling in the air. Wong felt a bit uncomfortable.

"Ikonn’s Image!" Kaecilius’s face displayed the pride of a true mage. "Don't blame me for not giving you a chance; you cannot withstand the power of a Master of the Mystic Arts!"

As he spoke, dozens of Kaecilius figures reached out, and dozens of magical whips lashed toward Wong simultaneously. From all directions, from above and below, they were inescapable.

Yet, at that very moment, Wong vanished, reappearing outside the reach of all the Kaecilius clones.