Emerald butterflies scattered through the sky, shimmering like crystal clusters in the sunlight.
Mordo stood still, watching them drift past his face. "Unbelievable... He actually blocked Bolts of Balthakk from dozens of sorcerers simultaneously using Hoggoth's Ancient Spell?"
The same spell could yield vastly different results depending on the sorcerer. In Malrick's hands, even the most basic magic carried overwhelming force, fueled by his seemingly limitless reserves of primal energy.
If he desired, even simple spells could unleash power on a planetary scale.
"Why's everyone just staring at butterflies?" Malrick raised a brow at the stunned crowd. "Are we in a turn-based RPG now?"
He waved his right hand again, casting Form of Ikonn—this time, on himself.
In an instant, thousands of Malrick clones filled the sky, each wielding the shimmering, crescent-shaped Fan of Oshtur—a weapon known for its ability to rend magical barriers.
Mordo's eyes widened in alarm. "Shields! Raise your shields, now!"
But it was too late.
Thousands of Fan of Oshtur slashes descended like a coordinated storm. The protective barriers shattered instantly, breaking apart like glass under a hammer.
What followed was swift and decisive.
Malrick's clones engaged the remaining sorcerers, two or three against one, subduing them with calculated precision.
"The Sorcerer Supreme challenge ends here."
Even the most determined opponent—Mordo—was finally pinned down by a clone. Malrick snapped his fingers. Instantly, all clones dispersed, and with them, the Mirror Dimension collapsed.
The sorcerers were returned to the training grounds. They sat or lay where they landed—some disheveled, others dazed—silence settling over them like a heavy fog.
Those who had faced Malrick directly looked defeated and battle-worn.
The rest, those who had fallen at the very beginning, wore blank expressions. They had barely seen what hit them.
Just hours earlier, they had mourned the loss of the Ancient One, their revered mentor.
Now, they sat in awe of her successor—a Sorcerer Supreme who, on his first day, had defeated them all with terrifying ease.
At first, they feared Malrick might tarnish the Ancient One's legacy.
But now, that concern seemed almost laughable.
He hadn't even tried, and they still lost.
He had studied magic for barely a month... and yet stood above them all.
A long, collective sigh echoed across the grounds.
Malrick, unbothered, smirked as he walked over to Mordo and nudged him with his foot.
"Told you I had this," he said, cocking a brow.
Mordo slowly exhaled through his nose, gathering what remained of his pride. "The Ancient One made the right choice. You crushed every single one of us... on day one."
"What can I say? That was team-building."
Mordo blinked. "Team-building?"
"Sure," Malrick replied. "A way to deepen mutual understanding among teammates."
"That looked more like domination."
Malrick grinned. "Hey, after this little skirmish, everyone understands me now. Deeply. I'd say that's effective team-building."
Then he clapped his hands loudly, drawing everyone's attention.
Mordo instinctively braced himself, half-expecting another round.
Instead, Malrick reached behind him and—with a bit of flair—summoned an enormous lobster, eight meters long and two meters wide.
"Thanks for participating in the Sorcerer Supreme challenge. You've all earned dinner," Malrick announced casually.
He cracked the shell open with his bare hands, lit a fire with a flick of magic, and began grilling the meat.
Oiling, flipping, seasoning—it was all smooth and efficient. Within minutes, the rich aroma filled the air, making heads turn and stomachs growl.
"This beauty's from another dimension. You need to try it," he said, slicing the lobster cleanly with Vishanti's Holy Sword. The meat was golden, steaming, and absurdly fragrant.
He used levitation magic to distribute portions to everyone present.
At the first bite, even the most stoic sorcerers broke into smiles. They gave nods of approval, murmured thanks, and dug in like starving wanderers.
They had faced many dimensional threats—but Dimensional Lobster? That was new.
Even Mordo, skeptical at first, found himself devouring his share and eyeing Malrick for seconds.
Suddenly, Hamir—an elderly one-handed sorcerer with a topknot—jumped to his feet.
"Ah! My body—!"
"What's wrong, Hamir?" Mordo rushed over.
"Did the lobster do something? Shouldn't we be more cautious with dimensional creatures?"
Hamir shook his head fervently. "No! It's healing me. The damage from overusing magic... it's reversing!"
He turned to Malrick and clutched his shoulder, eyes wide. "This... this is a miracle. Thank you!"
He bowed low, honoring Malrick with the traditional salute of the mystic arts.
All around, other sorcerers began checking themselves.
Gastrointestinal issues vanished. Damaged limbs tingled with sensation. Dull senses returned.
"It's true!" cried Daniel Drumm. "This meat is restorative! Where did you get it?"
"A realm called the Starry Sky World," Malrick replied, summoning more lobsters. "There's plenty more—one for each of you."
These massive crustaceans were dimensional beasts Malrick had captured while they threatened human settlements in the other realm. Infused with energy and processed to remove the RR virus, they were now perfectly safe—and incredibly nourishing for seasoned sorcerers.
Delighted, the group eagerly accepted their portions.
But a new challenge emerged.
"What kind of shell is this?" Wong muttered, glaring at his cleaver, which had dulled from the effort. "I can't cut through it."
Several others faced similar problems. Some used portals to slice, others wielded enchanted tools, determined to get to the tender meat.
Even Mordo, after hesitating, mimicked Malrick and used the Vishanti's Holy Sword to make precise cuts—his hunger overpowering his stoicism.
This wasn't just a meal. It was a celebration, a bonding ritual, a declaration of a new era.
As the sun dipped low, the sorrow over the Ancient One's passing faded, replaced by laughter and warm bellies.
Malrick had, in a single day, become more than their leader—he had become their anchor.
Anyone who dared claim he was unworthy would likely be challenged on the spot.
No one spoke much during the feast. Everyone was too busy chewing.
Malrick sat between Mordo and Wong, timing his next move perfectly.
As they drowsed in their food-coma daze, he leaned in.
"Wong, you'll oversee internal affairs and training. Mordo, external threats are your domain."
They blinked slowly.
"From now on," Malrick said dramatically, "you two are my Sleeping Dragon and Phoenix Chick. It's like the King calling together his Lord High Admiral and his Lord Chancellor to deliberate on a matter of national importance.
"Nice... who?" Mordo asked, chewing.
"Greatest sorcerers in history," Malrick replied without missing a beat.
But then he paused, sensing something.
His expression hardened.
"What's wrong?" Wong asked, wiping his hands.
"Someone's watching me," Malrick said calmly, eyes narrowing.
Mordo jumped up, clutching his half-eaten lobster. "Who dares spy on Kamar-Taj? A demon god?"
"No," Malrick said with a smirk, drawing a glowing circle.
A portal opened.
On the other side sat Odin, observing from his throne in Asgard.
Malrick stepped through without hesitation.
"Oi, Odin. You got something to say, or are you just enjoying the show?"
---
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