In a concealed research facility in Morocco, operated by Hammer Industries, Justin Hammer strode in, flanked by four bodyguards. The base was heavily secured, a fortress of secrecy. Obadiah Stane, emerging from the damaged Iron Monger II suit, wore a scowl of frustration.

“Obadiah, and you two, Vanko and Zack! Do you realize what you’re doing?”

Anton Vanko, toothpick in mouth, smirked silently, while Zack glanced at his father, waiting for Obadiah to respond.

With Zack’s assistance, Obadiah stepped out of the Iron Monger II, its outer armor warped in several places. He approached Justin Hammer with a forced smile.

“Oh, Justin, my friend, of course we know what we’re doing, and trust me, everything we do is for our plan.”

“For the plan? Was provoking and attacking Tony, exposing our operation, part of the plan?”

“Of course. This time, I wanted to gauge the level of Tony’s technology and assess the sorcerer by his side. Killing Tony outright would’ve been a bonus, but it wasn’t the main goal. My aim was reconnaissance. Now that I’ve gathered intel, we’re better equipped to defeat—or even eliminate—them next time. Then Hammer Industries can easily take over Stark Industries, right?”

“If what you said is true, then I won’t hold this unauthorized stunt against you. But understand this: I got you out and brought you here to follow my orders, not to act recklessly. Build what I need—everything else comes second!”

Without another word, Justin Hammer turned and left with his bodyguards, missing the mocking expressions that crossed the faces of Anton Vanko, Zack, and Obadiah as he departed.

“Father, does Justin Hammer really think we teamed up with him just because he’s lucky and knowledgeable?”

Obadiah Stane, leaning back with a sly grin, responded to his son Zack. “The Hammer family’s gotten weaker with each generation. Justin’s father, old man Hammer, was a formidable figure. He could hold his own against me and Tony’s father, Howard Stark, back in the day. But Justin? He’s nowhere near his father’s caliber.

For the average person, Justin’s not terrible, but how can someone merely above average compare to us? Even as an enemy, I’ll admit Tony’s brilliance is world-class. Even Howard, hailed as a genius in our time, pales in comparison to his son. As for Justin Hammer, he’s not even in Tony’s league.”

Zack showed little reaction to his father’s words, but Anton Vanko, who had been silent, bristled with discontent. His goal was to kill Tony Stark to avenge his own father and prove his superiority, forged by his father’s teachings. Obadiah’s praise of Tony’s intellect and ability stung, implying Anton fell short. It grated on him.

In truth, after his imprisonment, Obadiah had entrusted Zack, who remained free and unsuspected, with a covert mission: locate Anton Vanko’s father, Ivan Vanko, and confirm Anton’s ability to construct an arc reactor. Using Obadiah’s old network, Zack brought Anton to the United States. They orchestrated a “chance” meeting with Justin Hammer, leveraging Obadiah’s detailed knowledge of the Iron Man armor to convince Justin to secure Obadiah’s release from prison.

Justin, oblivious, believed Anton, Obadiah, and Zack rallied around him due to his charm and skill. He had no idea he was a pawn in Obadiah’s intricate scheme.

For this reason, Anton held back from clashing with Obadiah over mere words. He was determined to let his actions prove he surpassed Tony Stark by far.

——————————–

The Ancient One stood by the training ground, her gaze fixed on two circles drawn about five meters apart. Her smooth, ageless face, radiant under the soft glow of Kamar-Taj’s lanterns, reflected a timeless elegance, her bald head accentuating the sharp clarity of her eyes. Drawing power from the Dark Dimension, she exuded an otherworldly grace, her serene presence commanding respect. She turned to Sebastian, curiosity flickering in her expression.

“Master Sebastian, what magic are you planning to practice?”

“Honestly, I’m not entirely confident this spell will work, but I can’t afford to wait. The dangers I’m facing now are too great, and my current fighting style is too reactive. I need to boost my mobility. Otherwise, I’m stuck dodging in tight spaces or passively countering attacks, trapped in a cycle of defense and retaliation—like a turn-based game.”

“A sorcerer’s body is often frail, making defense and counterattacks essential. Improving mobility is a wise choice, Master Sebastian. You’re on the right path.”

Sebastian wasn’t surprised by the Ancient One’s agreement, but her reference to turn-based games caught him off guard. Then again, Kamar-Taj had Wi-Fi, and she was no isolated mystic. He couldn’t judge a modern sorcerer by outdated stereotypes.

“Master Ancient One, I’m seeking your help for this.”

“How can I assist?”

“The spell I’m practicing might cause something called dissociation, where part of my body separates from the rest—not physically, but in a spatial sense, like being displaced across space.”

The Ancient One nodded, her poised demeanor unwavering. “Spatial dissociation—I understand. What do you need me to do?”

“Normally, I can handle minor dissociation, but I’m worried this spell could cause a severe split. If, say, my body is cut in half or divided down the middle, even my mental resilience might not be enough to act. That’s when I’ll need your help, Master Ancient One. You’d need to touch the larger part of my body and use magic to mend the spatial gaps, restoring my physical and spatial integrity.”

“If that’s the case, I can manage it.”

“Great, then I’ll rely on you, Master Ancient One. Once I master this spell, I can—”

She raised a hand, cutting him off. “This is a small effort, and it doesn’t involve Kamar-Taj’s secrets or artifacts. There’s no need for a trade. Otherwise, our relationship would be purely transactional, without trust.”

“So… I understand. Thank you, Master Ancient One.”

“No thanks needed. Let’s begin.”

Without further words, Sebastian nodded and stepped into one of the circles. The Ancient One positioned herself near the other, ready to intervene. Her calm, luminous presence seemed to steady the air, her curiosity evident as she watched Sebastian. She wondered what spell could unsettle someone as composed and confident as he was. It appeared to be a form of spatial movement, but how did it differ from Kamar-Taj’s portals? Intrigued, she focused on Sebastian, standing poised in the circle.

Sebastian took a deep breath, gripping his wand tightly in his right hand, and cleared his mind.

Target. Determination. Ease.

Silently reciting the three principles of Apparition, Sebastian began to spin within the circle, his steps quickening like a dance. The rotation accelerated, producing a sharp, piercing crack. In an instant, his body twisted into a vortex, vanishing from the first circle and reappearing in the second. His spinning form slowed, stabilizing as he returned to normal.

Gasping, Sebastian glanced at his left arm—or where it should have been. The severed section writhed with muscle and blood, painless but eerie.

Before he could attempt to mend the dissociation, the Ancient One stepped forward, her movements fluid and assured. She placed a hand on his left shoulder, and a faint purple mist shimmered around her fingers. The missing arm, left in the first circle, vanished and reattached seamlessly to Sebastian’s body.

“Master Ancient One, thank you. The split was more severe than expected, and it’ll take practice to perfect. But I’m confident my current magical strength can handle this spell. That’s promising. I’ll keep working on it, and I may need your help again.”

“No problem. It gives me a chance to study your spell closely.”

Crack! Crack! Crack!

A sharp burst echoed as Sebastian spun out of one circle, vanishing and reappearing in the other.

He glanced at his left index finger, where the nail had vanished. Raising his wand to his hand, he summoned a faint purple mist, and the nail reformed, restored to normal.

“Master Sebastian, I think you should pause and rest,” the Ancient One suggested, her voice calm yet commanding. Her ageless face, luminous under the soft glow of Kamar-Taj’s torches, radiated a serene beauty.

Exhaling, Sebastian nodded. As she advised, he was exhausted. He hadn’t experienced dissociation five or six times in a row before, and fatigue had caused another minor split. In this state, continuing to practice Apparition was unwise.

He settled onto a cushion at the edge of the training ground, crossing his legs and closing his eyes. Following Kamar-Taj’s meditation technique, he focused on recovering his depleted energy.

Kamar-Taj’s meditation wasn’t a guarded secret but a fundamental skill taught to all beginners. It accelerated energy restoration, cleared the mind, and dispelled restlessness, making it essential for every sorcerer.

Roughly thirty minutes later, Sebastian opened his eyes and addressed the Ancient One, who stood nearby, lost in thought. “Master Ancient One, thank you so much.”

She turned, a gentle smile softening her radiant features. “The spell you practiced is progressing well, isn’t it?”

Nodding, Sebastian replied, “I completed thirty-seven Apparitions, with thirteen dissociations. Six were severe, mostly at the start. Later, they became less frequent and milder—mostly just a finger or nail. With more practice, I’ll master it.”

“That’s promising. But you mentioned wanting to try two spells when you approached me. With this one on track, what’s the second?”

“There’s no clear record of this spell’s effects. I can only sense its potential, so I’d like your help, Ancient One, to identify what it does.”

“The spell’s effect?”

“Yes, it seems to release a unique kind of energy. If we can understand that energy, we’ll know the spell’s purpose.”

“Very well, I’ll try. But I can’t claim to know every spell in existence, so I can’t guarantee I’ll identify it.”

“That’s fine—it’s just an experiment.”

Sebastian took a deep breath, closing his eyes to recall joyful memories from his journey. A faint smile crossed his face. He waved his wand gently, and a shimmering silver-white light burst from the tip, swirling around him. The mist gathered and dispersed, struggling to take form.

“Expecto Patronum!”

The Ancient One, her eyes sharp with focus, acted swiftly. She reached out, capturing a wisp of the silver-white mist in her hand. With precise gestures, she wove a series of nested magical arrays, encircling the mist to analyze its essence and purpose.

“Incredible… It’s sacred, purifying, protective, repelling all evil, darkness, and malicious intent. This pure, positive energy is the natural counter to all negative forces. Black magic, curses, malevolent spirits—none can withstand it. They’d be struck down hard. This is the epitome of white magic. Its power isn’t overwhelming, but its quality is exceptional. No wonder some say the greatest magic stems from the heart. Master Sebastian, your spell is living proof of that!”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep