Chapter 659

Something was wrong.

Evenson had finally put the pieces together, and the more he thought about it, the more convinced he became that something had gone very, very wrong.

Clea might have been manipulated.

And, quite possibly, so had he.

On the surface, the situation looked simple enough.

Evenson and Clea had been having some problems in their relationship. Clea had even told the Ancient One that she couldn’t keep living like a sheltered princess, watching helplessly from the sidelines while Evenson fought dangerous battles. She wanted power of her own so she could stand beside him.

The Ancient One, who had practically watched Clea grow up, naturally felt protective of her.

So when Clea asked for power, the Ancient One agreed.

She gave Clea the Necronomicon.

She even intended to have the Transcendent One, her own former teacher, personally instruct Clea in how to properly wield the Void’s power.

All very touching.

Except...

Was it really that simple?

The Ancient One had possessed the power of the Void for countless years.

And yet she’d never taught anyone how to use it.

Clea hadn’t even specified what kind of power she wanted. She’d merely said she wanted to become stronger, and given a very personal reason for wanting it.

The Ancient One’s response?

She immediately produced the Necronomicon.

And the Transcendent One, who could supposedly teach others to wield the darkness of the Void, happened to be in R’lyeh.

Evenson doubted anyone in the entire world even knew that.

Yet somehow, this legendary figure was suddenly willing to come out of hiding.

All because Clea was having relationship troubles?

The Ancient One was really willing to break that many taboos over a little romantic angst?

Thank goodness she’d been bald for as long as Evenson had known her. He had no idea what color her hair had been.

If she’d happened to be blonde, he might have started wondering whether Clea was secretly her daughter.

The whole thing made no sense.

At least, not until Evenson connected it with several things that had happened recently.

A while ago, the Ancient One had accepted his suggestion that she should begin looking for someone capable of inheriting her mantle.

That candidate had already been chosen.

Dr. Stephen Strange.

The brilliant neurosurgeon with a spectacular career ahead of him.

The Ancient One had even discussed him with Evenson, asking how they might persuade a man with such a promising life in the mundane world to cut his ties with it and devote himself to Kamar-Taj.

Then, not long ago, Strange had been involved in a serious car accident caused by reckless driving.

His career had been destroyed.

His life was in pieces.

All that remained was for him to spend his fortune chasing a miracle, at which point the Ancient One could send someone to point him toward Kamar-Taj.

This was hardly a secret within Kamar-Taj anymore.

Almost everyone knew about the lucky bastard who was supposedly destined to inherit the Ancient One’s entire legacy and become the next Sorcerer Supreme.

At first, Evenson had believed it too.

Now he wasn’t so sure.

Stephen Strange might indeed become the next Sorcerer Supreme.

But perhaps only on paper.

Because what exactly was the Ancient One’s true legacy?

She had protected Earth for countless years and built a reputation so formidable that even Mephisto, currently vacationing in Los Angeles, acknowledged her strength.

The demon had even said that as long as the Ancient One remained alive, he could never rest easy.

Why did someone like Mephisto fear her?

Was it the Time Stone?

The Eye of Agamotto was one of the symbols of the Sorcerer Supreme. If something happened to the Ancient One and Strange inherited the title, the Time Stone would presumably pass to him as well, if only to maintain the appearance of continuity.

But Evenson knew that the Eye spent most of its time inside the Sanctum.

The Ancient One barely used it.

She had never treated the Time Stone as the source of her own strength.

So that wasn’t her true legacy.

Then perhaps it was her spellcraft?

The Ancient One was, by all accounts, an excellent teacher.

She didn’t hide her knowledge from students who could safely learn it. Her techniques, including the creation of the Mirror Dimension, had all been organized into books and placed in the library.

Anyone could study them.

If they encountered something they didn’t understand, they could ask her directly, and she would patiently explain it.

But even if someone mastered all of those techniques...

So what?

Talent alone wasn’t enough.

Look at the so-called Masters of Kamar-Taj.

They had studied the same techniques.

They weren’t lacking in talent, either.

And yet most of them were still thoroughly mediocre.

Even if the Ancient One personally trained someone with exceptional talent, the result would probably be another competent mage at best.

That hardly amounted to inheriting her mantle.

If anything, giving someone the title of Sorcerer Supreme without the power to back it up would risk turning the title itself into a joke.

So if you stripped away the Time Stone and her techniques, there was only one thing left.

The foundation of the Ancient One’s undefeated record defending Earth.

Her immense reserves of magical power.

The Eredar Twins had commented on it before.

By their standards, the Ancient One’s understanding of magic and her spellcasting techniques were merely at the level of a decent student at the Mak’Rey School of Magic.

But the amount of magical power she’d accumulated within herself?

Among the great mages of countless worlds, it still ranked among the highest.

That was the real secret.

The Ancient One’s true legacy wasn’t merely her spells.

It was her power.

And, more importantly, the method by which she had acquired that power.

And now she intended to teach that method to Clea.

The difference was staggering.

For Stephen Strange, the Ancient One would teach the techniques and give him the artifacts needed to support the position.

She’d teach him the forms, but not the inner strength.

For Clea?

She’d already taught her the forms.

Now she was preparing to teach her the foundation beneath them.

And she was even sending her own former master to personally train Clea.

Once Evenson looked at the two arrangements side by side, the answer became painfully obvious.

Who was actually inheriting the Ancient One’s legacy?

What a terrifyingly clever old woman.

She’d lived for so long that even her bald head couldn’t contain all that accumulated wisdom.

If this unexpected incident hadn’t happened, Clea’s new power might have remained hidden from Evenson.

By the time he discovered what was really happening, it might have been too late.

The deed would already be done.

So Evenson explained his suspicions to Clea.

He expected outrage.

Suspicion.

Maybe even fear.

Instead, Clea’s eyes lit up.

"That’s a good thing!"

Evenson stared at her.

"Getting the full inheritance of the Sorcerer Supreme? That’s an opportunity people would kill for!"

She became increasingly animated.

"If Kamar-Taj ever opened this position to public applications, people would probably crawl all the way from the main temple to the New York Sanctum just for a chance!"

"They wouldn’t make it."

Evenson rubbed his forehead.

"Nepal is in Asia. There’s an entire Pacific Ocean between there and New York. Most of them would drown halfway."

Clea ignored him.

"You need to understand something. No matter how much knowledge the Ancient One passes on to you, you still can’t become the Sorcerer Supreme."

Evenson’s expression grew serious.

"Stephen Strange is the public Sorcerer Supreme. He’s the face of Kamar-Taj. You’re the one working behind the scenes."

"Everything you accomplish will be credited to him. And to preserve his position as the public leader, you’ll have to keep a low profile. You’ll have to remain unknown, even when you’re doing the work that actually keeps everything running."

He spread his hands.

"You’re basically taking an unpaid second job."

It was obviously unfair.

That was exactly why Evenson was so annoyed.

"Working behind the scenes..."

Clea’s expression fell slightly.

Then her eyes suddenly brightened.

"Shadow Sorcerer Supreme."

Evenson stared.

"I shall toil in darkness and serve the light!"

Her voice grew more fervent with every word.

"The mighty tree of Kamar-Taj stands because people like us become its roots, buried deep beneath the earth!"

She raised one fist dramatically.

"Nothing is true. Everything is permitted!"

She paused.

Then she started laughing.

"Heh... hahaha!"

Evenson stared at her.

She had finally snapped.

Clea’s eyes practically glowed with the radiant light of adolescent edginess as she lost herself in an elaborate fantasy about being the mysterious power behind Kamar-Taj.

Evenson couldn’t help silently giving the Ancient One an enormous amount of respect.

He’d thought he was the only person who understood just how deeply ridiculous Clea could be.

Apparently not.

The Ancient One had even accounted for that.

He’d seen some impressive schemers in his life.

But this?

This woman had planned around Clea’s personality.

Evenson mentally raised both hands in surrender.

He couldn’t help but admire it.