Baron Mordo was troubled.
He had never imagined that coming to teach a rookie sorcerer would turn into this.
For a moment, Mordo froze on the spot like a philosopher.
Karl really made it impossible for him to gauge how deep he was.
A perfectly ordinary Magical Shield, and Karl had forced it into something like advanced magic.
This kind of talent…
Tch—!
This kid is just like me!
Mordo shuddered, and the look he gave Karl softened even more.
But seeing the eager expression on Karl's face…
Mordo felt awkward.
He couldn't give pointers on this spell at all!
In terms of the Magical Shield, Karl had already pushed it to the absolute limit.
What was there for Mordo to say?
Still, a Master Sorcerer was a Master Sorcerer—his standards were solid.
With a quick shift of his eyes, Mordo had an idea.
"Karl-kun, your Magical Shield is excellent, and you already have your own understanding of it," Mordo said. "At this point, it wouldn't be appropriate for me to interfere with instruction."
"If my guidance caused your path to deviate, that would be my fault."
"The path of the strong is walked out step by step."
"As long as you cultivate diligently, you'll naturally gain something."
Mordo stood there, wearing the expression of a lonely expert.
Even Aldrich couldn't tell for a moment whether the Master Sorcerer was being genuine or putting on an act.
However—
Based on Aldrich's experience—
When someone wore that expression, it was usually an act.
Aldrich kept muttering complaints in his heart.
This didn't draw the attention of the other two.
Each had their own thoughts.
Karl was thinking about what magic he should learn next.
Without hesitation, Karl spoke up.
"Mordo-sensei, since my fundamentals are fine, what magic should I learn?"
Karl asked again.
"What magic should you learn?" Mordo repeated.
"No, no. You shouldn't ask that. You should ask what magic you want to learn."
Mordo spoke with palpable pride.
Karl's mouth twitched.
What a show-off.
But hearing Mordo say that made Karl think seriously.
What magic did he want to learn?
He didn't lack attack power, and he was already very good at defense.
What he lacked was a binding spell.
Logically speaking, the Eldritch Whip was a binding spell.
But after being evolved by his powerful god-tier talent, the Eldritch Whip had become far more offensive and had lost much of its binding capability.
Without hesitation, Karl said it.
"I want to learn the Crimson Bands of Cyttorak."
Karl stated it plainly.
"You actually chose that kind of advanced spell. That's beyond my expectations," Mordo said with a smile.
Most sorcerers pursued lethality.
This kid was thinking about patching his weaknesses—good, very good.
Promising.
"Since you say so, fine. I'll teach you this spell."
Mordo smiled as he spoke.
Then—
Mordo's power stirred.
A deep crimson energy band formed directly in his hand.
It was about as wide as thick ribbon noodles sold in restaurants—except it was blood-red, flickering with dark red energy.
Karl could feel the astonishing, eerie power radiating from it.
"This is the Crimson Bands of Cyttorak. Do you know why it's called that?" Mordo asked sternly.
"This spell borrows the power of the powerful dimensional demon, Cyttorak, so it's named after him," Karl answered seriously.
In essence, this spell wasn't inherently much more sophisticated than the Eldritch Whip.
Its power came from tapping into the strength of a major existence in the Marvel world—Cyttorak.
You could say the magic was merely a vessel; Cyttorak's power was the core.
"Correct," Mordo said.
"This spell borrows Cyttorak's power. That means it's powerful—but also extremely dangerous."
"Cyttorak is not a god with a good temper."
"Generally, ordinary sorcerers won't learn this dangerous spell. You are the exception."
Mordo spoke with utmost seriousness.
"I'll explain the spell's energy structure and how the power circulates. More importantly—how to communicate with Cyttorak and borrow his strength."
Mordo said it, then carefully explained everything in detail.
It wasn't truly complicated—what mattered most was the method of borrowing Cyttorak's power.
"Contemplate it carefully. This spell isn't easy to learn," Mordo warned.
"For a seasoned sorcerer, being able to grasp it at a basic level in three months is already good. Don't get nervous. Learn it slowly."
"Borrowing Cyttorak's power isn't that easy."
"I understand," Karl nodded, thinking it through as he spoke.
Ding!
Detected host is learning a divine-aspect spell—Crimson Bands of Cyttorak. God-tier talent triggers a hundredfold critical strike.
You have mastered Crimson Bands of Cyttorak.
The system's prompt sounded.
Karl felt the previously complex spell unravel in his mind like threads being teased apart.
That complicated magical structure now felt like building blocks—easy and intuitive.
Karl raised his head.
Crack—! A faint sound rang out.
A scarlet glow surfaced in his hand.
Five scarlet energy bands appeared between Karl's two hands.
Mordo: ????
What was this?
Karl learned the Crimson Bands?
What the hell?!
Mordo raised a hand and pointed at the spell in Karl's hands, speechless.
Why?
Why was this happening?!
How could Karl learn the Crimson Bands?!
This made no sense!
This was a spell that required communicating with an existence on the level of a god to learn!
Compared to ordinary spells, its difficulty was far higher.
Kamar-Taj's magic was all borrowed.
What they excelled at was borrowing the power of the universe, nature, and other dimensional demons.
That was why their magic was so powerful.
But—
That also made learning magic extremely difficult.
Gods were like ordinary people in one respect:
Some were willing to lend their power. Some weren't.
And it also depended on whether they liked you enough to lend it to you at all.
So learning this kind of spell was very hard.
The biggest hurdle was communicating with the rules of a god hidden somewhere beyond perception, and borrowing their strength.
Most sorcerers needed three months.
If your compatibility with Cyttorak was bad, you were finished—maybe you'd never learn it in your entire life.
The fastest in Kamar-Taj's history was Kaecilius.
He took a full year to learn this spell.
And Karl?
One second? Three seconds?
Mordo's chest tightened as he thought about it.
This is a genius?
This is a monster.
(End of Chapter)
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