Chapter 821

Whether sacrificing one life to save the entire world is justified sounds like a simple question when you’re looking at it from a distance.

It becomes a very different question when the life being sacrificed is your own.

And what if saving everyone meant that you had to be the one to kill that person with your own hands?

For someone who had devoted his entire life to saving lives, the answer was never going to be easy.

Fortunately, although the choice was difficult, Stephen Strange finally knew what he had to do.

He had spent so much time trying to restore his hands because he still longed for the life he’d once lived. There were people in that life he cared about. Things worth returning to.

But if the world itself was destroyed, none of those things would remain.

And if Evenson’s reasoning was correct—if the world could be treated like a living patient—then people like Kaecilius were little more than pathogens. Something dangerous that had to be removed before the patient died.

This doesn’t violate my duty.

The patient simply isn’t a person anymore.

It’s the world.

Right now, saving the world is my highest duty.

I’m still a doctor.

A doctor treating the world.

"It looks like you’ve figured out what you need to do."

Evenson watched Strange’s expression settle into determination.

"Then we’d better get to the Hong Kong Sanctum. That’s Kaecilius’s final target—and his only one now."

"Wait."

The Ancient One raised a hand.

"When I arrived, I already replaced the surrounding area with the Mirror Dimension. Kaecilius is trapped inside it right now, running around like a headless chicken. We may have a chance to deal with him immediately."

"What?"

Evenson’s expression changed.

He crossed the room in three quick strides and reached the window.

The sight outside made his stomach drop.

The city had been completely rearranged.

Buildings, streets, intersections—everything had been folded and displaced into impossible configurations. Somewhere in the distorted landscape, Kaecilius was scrambling from one section of the city to another. His last remaining follower had already reunited with him, but even the two of them couldn’t find a way out of the Mirror Dimension.

"The Sorcerer Supreme really is..." Evenson muttered. "Careful. She doesn’t leave anyone so much as a crack to exploit."

This is bad.

Very bad.

According to Evenson’s plan, Kaecilius wasn’t supposed to die yet.

The Hong Kong Sanctum still needed to be destroyed. Only after that would Dormammu arrive in this world. Then Evenson could negotiate with him and force him to abandon Kaecilius and the souls of his followers.

That was when Kaecilius was supposed to die.

But if things continued like this, Kaecilius might never make it that far.

Mordo and Strange were powerful enough by ordinary standards, but neither of them was remotely capable of defeating Kaecilius alone.

The Ancient One, however, was standing right here.

Kaecilius was probably going to die in this room.

And then Dormammu would simply claim his soul.

No.

Evenson’s eyes narrowed.

I’m not letting him have it that easily.

But how was he supposed to get Kaecilius out?

Was he seriously going to have to jump in and help the man himself?

Before Evenson could come up with an answer, Mordo and Strange suddenly opened a portal and rushed outside.

"Wait—!"

Evenson almost stopped them.

You two aren’t strong enough to fight Kaecilius! Going after him is suicide!

But before he could say it, the Ancient One had already opened another portal and stepped through.

"Damn it!"

Evenson looked left.

Then right.

The room was empty.

He stamped his foot in frustration.

"You people are really bullying the warlock here! Do you know how much harder it is for me to open portals than it is for you actual sorcerers?"

There was no answer.

Evenson gritted his teeth.

"Fine."

He couldn’t waste any more time.

He smashed through the window and jumped.

I can’t just sit here.

Even if his carefully arranged revenge fell apart, even if Kaecilius died here before the plan could reach its final stage...

He still had to be the one to kill him.

"Wait."

A thought struck him halfway down.

"Oh, crap."

He looked below.

"This is the second floor."

His face went pale.

"AAAHHHHH!"

Mordo and Strange emerged into the Mirror Dimension and immediately understood why the Ancient One had such a terrifying reputation.

She hadn’t merely altered a small section of the city.

She had effectively rearranged an entire district.

Buildings twisted through one another. Streets folded at impossible angles. The surrounding space had been manipulated like sheets of paper being folded by an invisible hand.

The people living inside the altered area seemed completely unaware of it.

From their perspective, reality was still reality.

They were simply living on a two-dimensional surface whose shape had been changed without their knowledge.

And the changes weren’t limited to left, right, up, and down.

Even the world’s constants seemed to shift.

Height, for example.

You might look out of a second-story window and think there was nothing particularly dangerous about jumping.

Then, halfway down, you’d discover that the distance had somehow become the equivalent of five stories.

That was exactly the sort of mistake Mordo and Strange were about to make.

At an intersection, they finally spotted Kaecilius and his remaining follower.

They looked at each other.

They had the advantage.

They had two people.

They had magic.

They had—

They charged.

A few moments later, they discovered that perhaps they had been a little optimistic.

"These guys are tougher than they look!"

Mordo and Strange turned and ran.

The situation had instantly reversed.

Now Kaecilius was chasing them.

Worse, Kaecilius had learned how to manipulate the Mirror Dimension himself.

He couldn’t reshape it on anything close to the Ancient One’s scale, but even limited control was more than enough to turn the battlefield into a nightmare.

They ran forward.

The road beneath their feet suddenly rotated ninety degrees.

Both men lost their footing and slid sideways, carried by gravity toward the windows of a passing bus.

Mordo managed to recover.

He summoned his enchanted boots and attempted to carry Strange upward along the outside wall of a nearby building.

The building suddenly rotated.

The entire structure flattened onto its side.

The two sorcerers stumbled as Kaecilius continued pursuing them.

They finally managed to regroup and prepare to make a desperate stand together.

The ground beneath them split apart.

Mordo and Strange were thrown in opposite directions.

It was terrifying.

No matter what they did, Kaecilius possessed the advantage of terrain.

The battlefield itself obeyed his will.

Imagine spending several seconds gathering enough power for a devastating attack, only for your opponent to casually raise a wall of ice in front of you.

That was the Mirror Dimension.

You could prepare the perfect attack.

Your opponent could simply change the battlefield.

And even if you decided to stand together and fight back-to-back, Kaecilius could simply alter the terrain and force you apart.

Even their supposed advantage of numbers had been taken away.

There was no way to fight like this.

Reality quickly proved the point.

Once Mordo and Strange had been separated, it was only a matter of time before Kaecilius picked them off one at a time.

Strange was already on the ground.

Kaecilius had him pinned beneath him, his blade raised above Strange’s chest.

One thrust would be enough.

Then the ground beneath Strange suddenly moved.

He was dragged away.

At the same time, the terrain beneath Kaecilius rose sharply, launching him into the air.

The two were carried toward the highest point in the distorted city.

Sections of the surrounding ground folded inward and slammed together, forming a vast circular platform.

A perfect arena.

Strange and Mordo slowly pushed themselves upright.

Neither understood what had just happened.

Then they noticed Kaecilius and his remaining disciple.

The two men were staring toward the opposite side of the arena.

Strange and Mordo followed their gaze.

The Ancient One stood there.

One hand rested behind her back.

In the other, she held a strange magical construct resembling a gigantic protractor.

As it shifted and rotated, the newly assembled arena stabilized around them.

Mordo’s expression collapsed.

"No..."

His voice shook.

"That can’t be."

He stared at the Ancient One.

"She really did draw power from the Dark Dimension..."

The woman who had always represented everything Mordo believed to be righteous now looked completely different.

Her skin was unnaturally pale.

Dark runes had appeared across her forehead.

The sight devastated him.

The Ancient One’s expression flickered when she heard him.

But she didn’t answer.

Her attention remained fixed on the man standing across from her.

"Kaecilius."

For the moment, she had only one concern.

Facing the disciple she had once valued above almost anyone else.

"Back then, I was desperate."

Kaecilius stared at his former master.

"I was lost. Helpless."

Since his rebellion, this was only the second time he had stood face-to-face with the Ancient One.

The first encounter had been brief.

He had been completely outmatched and had been forced to flee.

This time was different.

This time, he had made his choice.

"I trusted you."

His voice hardened.

"I respected you as my master. And you repaid that trust with lies."

"I was trying to protect you."

The Ancient One looked at the disciple who had fallen completely into darkness.

There was genuine sadness in her eyes.

Perhaps Evenson had been right.

Perhaps she had protected everyone too much.

Perhaps she had insisted on carrying every burden herself, convinced that there was always a correct answer and that she alone had to shoulder the consequences.

Perhaps, in doing so, she had ultimately pushed Kaecilius down this path.

"Protect me from what?"

Kaecilius sneered.

"From your secrets being exposed?"

"I have a new master now."

"Dormammu is deceiving you."

The Ancient One’s voice remained calm.

"You haven’t seen his true nature. His eternal life isn’t paradise, Kaecilius. It’s hell."

"I don’t care."

Kaecilius smiled.

"Paradise or hell, it doesn’t matter."

"Millya and I will have eternal life there."

"We’ll reach the promised land together."

For a moment, his expression became almost wistful.

"I’ll admit, I used to admire you."

"After experiencing even a fraction of Dormammu’s power, I understood how tempting it was. And yet you were able to stop yourself."

His expression suddenly twisted.

"But now I understand."

"You simply wanted to be the only one in this world allowed to enjoy that gift."

"And when I received that blessing myself, I crossed your line."

"You wanted to punish me."

"And you were willing to work with something that evil and cruel just to do it."

Kaecilius and his last remaining disciple drew their blades.

"Millya."

His eyes burned with determination.

"I’ll save you. Just wait for me."

They charged.

The Ancient One blinked.

"Evil and cruel?"

For a moment, genuine confusion crossed her face.

Who is he talking about?

Dormammu? The Dark Dimension? Evenson? Those two demon women?

Could he at least be specific?

"Which one?"

"Well, this is high."

Far below the floating arena, Evenson stood in the middle of the street with one hand pressed against his lower back.

He squinted upward.

"My back..."

He had jumped from a second-story window.

He would swear under oath that the fall had been at least five and a half stories.

He had hit the ground with a tremendous thud, landing in a perfect horse stance.

The pavement beneath both feet had cracked.

Evenson had remained frozen in that position for nearly two full minutes while the pedestrians around him stared like he’d lost his mind.

Thankfully, his body was considerably tougher than that of an ordinary human.

He had even activated Demonic Skin during the fall.

Otherwise, someone else might have died on impact.

As it was, his legs and lower back were simply screaming.

"How am I supposed to get up there?"

Evenson stared at the arena suspended high above the city.

He couldn’t fly that high.

He didn’t have the Ancient One’s absurd portal mobility.

Was he seriously supposed to take an elevator?

He sighed.

"Fine."

His eyes hardened.

"If I can’t reach them..."

"Then I’ll just hit the whole thing."

His Dark Council robes materialized around him.

He slammed his staff against the ground.

The sudden display of magic triggered a wave of shocked exclamations from the surrounding crowd.

The same people who had just watched a scruffy-looking, slightly unhealthy man crash out of a second-story window were now staring at one of the Avengers’ most mysterious heroes.

The Black Scythe Lord.

Apparently, becoming a superhero came with sacrifices.

One bystander whispered something about how Evenson must have sacrificed all his luck with money in exchange for magical power.

Evenson’s eye twitched.

He wanted nothing more than to turn around and beat whoever had said it with his staff.

But he had a spell to cast.

He couldn’t personally sense everything happening in the arena above.

He couldn’t precisely lock onto the individual targets.

So he chose the simple solution.

Area denial.

Evenson began channeling Cataclysm.

He had modified the spell beforehand.

The goal wasn’t to kill everyone inside the arena.

He simply wanted to destroy the battlefield.

If he could break apart the arena, the others would be forced to establish a new battlefield somewhere else.

Preferably somewhere he could actually reach.

The spell was beginning to take shape.

Then someone suddenly fell from the sky.

The figure smashed through the awning of a storefront and slammed into the street below.

Evenson’s spell immediately stopped.

"What?"

He stared.

Already?

Had the battle really ended that quickly?

There was only one person who could have fallen from up there.

Kaecilius.

Of course.

The Ancient One had personally entered the fight.

There was no way the Sorcerer Supreme could lose.

If the Ancient One loses, I’ll—

Evenson stopped.

His mouth fell open.

"No way."

The person lying amid the shattered glass wasn’t Kaecilius.

It was the Ancient One.

She was covered in blood.

Evenson’s mind went blank.

"No."

He stared.

"That... can’t be."

How?

How could this have happened?

This isn’t because of me, right?

He was still trying to process what he was seeing when Strange and Mordo arrived.

They didn’t waste a second.

They lifted the injured Ancient One and hurried toward the hospital.

Evenson remained frozen for a moment.

None of this made sense.

Even if Kaecilius and his disciple had fought the Ancient One together, they should never have been able to defeat her.

Their attacks had been completely transparent to her.

She had stood almost completely still, using only one hand to counter everything they threw at her.

But that was exactly what made the situation so strange.

She hadn’t killed them.

She hadn’t even knocked them unconscious.

Instead, she had fought them again and again as though they were simply old friends practicing martial arts.

Kaecilius had been furious.

Is she mocking me?

He hated her for it.

He knew the difference in strength between them.

It was enormous.

But he refused to accept defeat.

He couldn’t.

He had someone to save.

He attacked again.

As usual, it didn’t take long.

The Ancient One caught him, locked his throat, and pulled him against her.

Kaecilius couldn’t move.

But with his back toward her, he smiled.

He had a reason to win.

A reason he couldn’t afford to lose.

He suddenly raised the invisible blade in his hand.

Then drove it into his own abdomen.

If we die together, so be it.

The blade pierced his stomach.

The wound was serious, but not immediately fatal.

The angle, however, was perfect.

The same blade continued into the Ancient One’s chest.

Her body stiffened.

She seemed surprised.

But at the same time, there was something almost resigned in her expression.

If she wanted to, she could still crush Kaecilius’s throat despite the wound.

She could end this.

Instead, she didn’t move.

This way, I’ll finally repay everything I owe you.

And I can finally be free.

I’m sorry.

I’ll have to use your hand to finish this.

The Ancient One did nothing.

She allowed Kaecilius to break free.

She allowed him to turn around.

She allowed him to kick her from the highest point of the city.

Evenson stared upward in disbelief.

How?

How could the Sorcerer Supreme have lost to Kaecilius?

It made no sense.

And it definitely wasn’t because Evenson had accidentally jinxed her.

His curses didn’t work like that.

Besides, he’d given her a healing stone once.

A genuine lifesaving artifact.

She should have had it with her.

Yet she hadn’t used it.

She hadn’t even carried it.

Evenson’s expression slowly changed.

A possibility surfaced in his mind.

One so absurd that even he struggled to accept it.

Could it be...?

He stared at the distant hospital-bound figures.

Did she...

Did she simply not want to live?