Chapter 25: Supreme Sorcerer Ancient One

The Dark Grimoire shuddered three times. It could not take it anymore! It had changed hands so many times, had so many different masters... No, not masters—servants! In all its existence, it had never encountered someone so shameless.

Yes, knowledge was important. But the book itself was more important, right? Young man, you cannot only look at the book’s contents and ignore its appearance. This was going too far! Inner worth mattered, but looks mattered more!

“Knowledge can be copied, but books cannot,” Lady Azeroth stated earnestly, echoing the Dark Grimoire’s true feelings. “My King, I remember you once told me that there are many pirated books on the Internet, free to download, but once you print them, the cost skyrockets. So, I believe the Dark Grimoire’s knowledge is worth nothing—its entire value comes from its physical form.”

The Dark Grimoire trembled all over, its cover wrinkling into a smug smile. It was positively delighted!

Old Wang was speechless.

Did I really say that? Now I understand what ‘trouble comes from the tongue’ really means...

Of course, the young lady was only joking. How much blood could be exchanged was not up to her; Norgannon’s system had its own evaluation criteria. The item’s value was assessed according to the rules of World of Warcraft, not the Marvel universe.

For instance, in the Marvel world, a one-carat loose diamond is worth tens of thousands, and a 55.95-carat “Wanderer’s Pearl” could fetch millions—dollars, at that. But in the World of Warcraft, things were different.

The dwarves’ mining skills were formidable. Diamonds produced in Ironforge were not that expensive—magical gems were what truly held value. Pearls fared even worse. Many pearl oysters were magical creatures, growing to enormous sizes, producing equally enormous pearls that, having absorbed arcane and elemental energies, shone brighter and more evenly.

Old Wang remembered once helping the “Water Elemental Lord” Neptulon defeat “the Ancient Sea Monster” Ozumat. In gratitude, Neptulon swung open his treasure vault, letting Old Wang take whatever he pleased.

For three whole days, Old Wang filled the Seventh Legion’s 32 warships and 48 transport ships. He even summoned the godly Shinjin from “Wandering Isle” to help, but unfortunately, Shinjin swam too slowly. Neptulon insisted the naga were launching a massive assault, sealed the water elemental plane, and kicked Old Wang out.

Outrageous!

One whole ship was dedicated to a single pearl. Just one. An enormous super pearl the size of a three-story building! Legend had it Neptulon obtained it after slaying a millennia-old magical oyster. It was so luminous it was thrown into storage to gather dust.

Later, it was given to Anduin as a wedding gift.

A 55.95-carat pearl? Sorry, the noblewomen of Stormwind would not even glance at it...

Gold, now that holds its value everywhere.

“Exchange!” Old Wang decided.

A level-one temporal channel opened.

Yes, even delivering knowledge required opening a temporal channel. A stream of knowledge was a stream of information, and transmitting information between two universes incurred a cost.

Of course, the delivery fee was relatively low—just 2%.

Within the “Azeroth Ring Road,” the spherical space began to fill with blood, though it did not expand. Still, just a single drop, floating at the center of the sphere, barely visible to the naked eye.

Upon checking his attributes panel, his wealth had soared to new heights.

[True Heart of Azeroth (Supreme Artifact)]
[Azeroth’s Blood: 0.88 grams]

...

“Knowledge really is cheap,” Old Wang muttered, curling his lip. Not even a hundredth of the Dark Grimoire’s value—how did Norgannon calculate this? Well, e-books are far cheaper than physical books, it did make sense.

How much was one gram of Azeroth’s Blood worth? Impossible to calculate. But by any estimate, it would be more than enough to buy several buildings in Chinatown.

As for its use as food? Old Wang dared not drink it—he would burst instantly and vanish into dust.

Mainly, it was because his physical constitution was lacking. The Old Wang of Azeroth would not have been intimidated—he had tasted it before.

Either way, the energy was abundant.

Back in the day, Illidan had drawn seven bottles of Well of Eternity essence—probably not even a kilogram in total—from the original Well. With that, he created the Sunwell, which nourished the entire elven kingdom for thousands of years.

It could even summon someone like Kil’jaeden from another star in the distant cosmos.

Azeroth’s Blood was even more potent than Well essence.

It could not compare with the Infinity Stones, of course, but it was surely far superior to Tony Stark’s miniature Arc Reactor—simply not in the same league.

If this was used to power Iron Man’s suit, just one drop might last a hundred years.

Safe, efficient, and pollution-free.

Maybe he could sell Tony a drop? That was for later, though—Tony did not need it yet.

Besides, selling blood directly was too crass. Swapping it for other things would be better.

There were plenty of treasures in World of Warcraft.

As long as it did not exist in the Marvel universe, it was valuable.

Scarcity creates value, and he truly had a monopoly.

The price? That was for him alone to decide.

Old Wang narrowed his eyes, recalling that charlatan druid who peddled Silver Scale Breastplates everywhere, and grinned with the cunning of a seasoned merchant.

...

What was most important?

The body was most important!

The body is the foundation of all endeavors.

In truth, Old Wang was in great shape. After more than a decade of training, he was superior not just to ordinary people, but even to Olympic champions—none of them could best him. Daredevil, Black Widow, Hawkeye, Crossbones—none compared; not even close.

By his estimation, he was still a bit short of Captain America’s physical prowess.

Monks had extremely high all-around abilities—they could fight, heal, withstand blows, attack from near or far, move above or below, press forward or fall back, deal physical and magical damage, and defend against both. Balanced in all aspects, but not particularly outstanding in any.

His senses were slightly inferior to Daredevil’s;
Vision a bit below Hawkeye’s;
Physique not as burly as Crossbones;
Looks not as striking as Black Widow’s...

But in a brawl, all of them together would not be enough to take on Old Wang.

What’s that? They were world-class martial artists? Sorry, in the end, real combat was the only true measure of fighting ability.

How many people had they killed? How many fights had they been in?

Old Wang had stood atop mountains of corpses and seas of bones, beating down Archimonde himself! Admittedly, the first time didn’t go so well...

As for Captain America? Never fought him head-on, so Old Wang truly couldn’t judge. The man was a bug—at his peak, he could take Thanos’ punches!

In the Marvel world, humans were physically inferior to those in World of Warcraft—never mind the pandaren.

There was no abundance of nourishing energies here.

No matter how hard Old Wang trained, he could not improve his body further. Compared to “Spitting Blood Master” Zhu Talan and “Panda Brewmaster” Old Chen, he was far behind.

Monks did not require much equipment.

For a fight, a simple staff sufficed.

Although Old Wang had three specializations, he had never really played the tank—offense was the best defense.

Healing was not his role, either.

Having a sturdy body was better than anything.

Superior in all ways.

Thus, he decided to continue improving his physical constitution.

He could not drink Azeroth’s Blood directly—better to use it as a bomb. But that did not mean other things could not work.

Old Wang pondered for two seconds, then made up his mind: “Exchange for the first Well of Eternity’s essence, worth 0.11 grams!”

...

Kamar-Taj.

The “Sorcerer Supreme” Ancient One, guardian of Earth and a figure renowned across the multiverse, gazed at the Cauldron of the Cosmos, lost in thought.

Suddenly, she closed her eyes.

Energies from other spaces and dimensions of the multiverse, under silent incantations and mental manipulation, took on tangible forms—this was magic, Kamar-Taj’s magic, the magic of the Marvel universe.

A full minute passed.

The Ancient One opened her eyes.

“Another shift in time and space, linking to another universe.”

“A universe I have never seen before, an energy I have never encountered.”

“Powerful interference, impossible to pinpoint accurately.”

“Strange...”

Two minutes later, the door opened and a burly black man walked in.

“Sorcerer Supreme,” he greeted respectfully.

“Mordo.”

The Ancient One said calmly, “Notify the New York Sanctum to closely monitor all temporal fluctuations in North America. Someone has connected to a new source of energy—a very powerful magical entity.”

“A new energy source? A magical entity?”

Baron Mordo was taken aback. “Not the Vishanti? Could it be...”

“Not Dormammu, not the Crimson Cosmos, nor any of the dark dimensions or hells—it appears to be another universe, another dimension unknown to us all.”

The Ancient One’s brow furrowed. “We must find out whether it is friend or foe.”