[Frog] Chapter 441-448

Chapter 441: Evading the Test

Alan carefully searched through his memories. He had more or less helped Strange avoid the Ancient One’s test. When Stephen Strange first visited the Ancient One, not only was his soul forcibly expelled from his body, he was even thrown into a dimensional space, where he experienced an endless free fall.

It was precisely because Strange personally went through that ordeal that he finally came to a complete awakening and let go of his arrogant understanding of the world.

Unfortunately, this wasn’t something Alan could openly explain. Besides, Strange had already accepted reality and was now sincerely asking the Ancient One to be his master.

The only question was whether the Ancient One would accept him, or if she planned to test him further.

Kaecilius hadn’t yet stolen the spellbook that summoned Dormammu—everything was still under control. Once Strange’s matter was resolved, Alan planned to leave Earth for a while. After all, Earth still had the Avengers, and with the Ancient One around, Thanos wouldn’t dare come to Earth easily.

At most, Thanos would attack Asgard or other planets.

The Ancient One fixed her gaze on Strange, who was bent in a ninety-degree bow. His posture was completely different from earlier. Judging by that, Alan must have put in a lot of effort before bringing him here.

She understood Stephen’s temperament well. The fact that he came here showed he had let go of his previous preconceptions. But he also knew he lacked Alan’s abilities.

Those words didn’t upset the Ancient One. She had to admit—Emperor’s (Alan's) abilities were unfathomable.

Not being as powerful as Emperor was entirely natural.

Seeing the Ancient One still hadn’t nodded in agreement, Wanda and the other girl nearby grew increasingly nervous, as if they were the ones begging to be accepted as disciples. Strange, meanwhile, didn’t lift his head, remaining bowed the entire time.

Even though pain was starting to creep into his lower back, the more pain he felt, the more certain he became that what had just happened wasn’t an illusion.

If he could use his soul to heal his body, why not give it a try?

The prerequisite was that the Ancient One would be willing to take him in as a disciple. Strange clenched his molars, enduring the pain radiating from his back.

“Rise, I accept you. But in your current state, it’s not the right time to begin training,” the Ancient One said gently, patting Strange on the shoulder.

Just as Strange opened his mouth to ask when he could start learning, the Ancient One turned toward the door and called out Karl Mordo’s name.

“Master Mordo, would you come in, please?” she said, waving her arm. “Master Mordo will take you to the dormitory. Get some rest first, and be patient.”

Strange looked at Alan in confusion—weren’t they going to begin lessons immediately?

Strange believed he needed to seize every bit of time. After all, with something as elusive as magic, he wasn’t sure whether he had the talent to master it.

But the moment his eyes met Alan’s, it was as if a bolt of lightning flashed through his mind. Strange suddenly realized—this too was a test.

“Mr. Alan, I’ll take my leave for now,” Strange said earnestly. He knew for sure that this place wasn’t New York.

The buildings outside were completely different from the ones in New York. He wasn’t sure where this was, but he knew he wouldn’t be returning with Alan.

Alan nodded. “Good luck.”

It wasn’t until Strange’s silhouette completely disappeared from view that Alan looked up and saw the Ancient One smiling in satisfaction.

“How does it feel?” he asked.

---

Chapter 442: No Longer Lost in Darkness

“The arrogance, tenacity… and that ambition in Strange’s eyes—I witnessed all of that long ago,” the Ancient One said softly, looking up at the ceiling covered in totems.

Through the Ancient One’s indescribable expression, Wanda couldn’t help but feel that she wasn’t just talking about Strange, but someone else entirely.

And it wasn’t just Wanda who had that feeling—Gwen felt the same. After all, the Ancient One had said something that hinted at familiarity.

It wasn’t until Alan raised an eyebrow and chuckled, casually uttering a name, that both women covered their mouths in surprise.

“You mean Kaecilius?” Alan stated the unfamiliar name without hesitation.

The Ancient One was silent for a moment before sighing softly. “Yes. I won’t let someone as talented as Strange lose himself to darkness after stepping through the door, letting it consume him.”

Wanda looked up in shock. “Wait, you mean this Kaecilius… he’s dabbled in dark magic?”

As a sorceress herself, Wanda understood all too well—once someone touches dark magic, they begin to spiral into madness. The only way they can satisfy their lust for power is by making others submit through killing and conquest.

They have no higher goal. That kind of thing... is truly terrifying.

Suddenly, Wanda understood why Alan had been so focused on Strange lately—Kaecilius must have become a serious problem!

“Exactly...” The Ancient One's expression toward Wanda was quite different from the one she had shown to Strange earlier.

The chaos magic within Wanda’s body could easily destroy an entire nation. Fortunately, she was by Emperor’s side. With him watching over her, there was no way she would be consumed by the darkness.

“Kaecilius has been exposed to too much dark magic. He’s gained considerable power from it. Any sorcerer who refused to follow him has already been killed.”

“That’s bad news... Dark sorcerers... they’re seriously hard to deal with,” Gwen muttered. She had witnessed Wanda’s powers firsthand and had to admit—against ordinary fighters, a dark sorcerer would be nearly unstoppable.

Meanwhile, Strange was walking down a corridor with Karl Mordo, on the way to his assigned room. He quickly noticed how dim and shadowy everything was.

“Master Mordo, is there some kind of power shortage here? It’s really dark,” Strange said, suddenly realizing he was uncomfortable with the low lighting.

Karl Mordo chuckled. “Mr. Strange...”

“You can call me Stephen,” Strange interrupted. He no longer insisted on being called ‘Doctor.’ Here, he was nothing more than a baby taking his first steps.

“Stephen, this place reflects your own inner world. It changes according to what’s within. The Ancient One told you to rest for a few days—she has her reasons.”

Karl Mordo stopped in front of a door and opened it. Inside, there was only a small table lamp.

“This will be your room. You can try meditating for a while or... maybe take a bath first?”

Strange let out an awkward laugh. “If it’s not too much trouble, could you tell me where the bath is? And... I didn’t bring any clothes.”

He had just now noticed the smell of sweat on himself and suddenly felt a little guilty toward Alan. Before they came here, the place he’d been living in really wasn’t much better than a trash heap.

“There are clothes prepared for you—don’t worry about that. I’ll go get them now. Just sit and rest for a bit,” Karl Mordo said warmly, clearly welcoming Strange’s arrival.

---

Chapter 443: Multiple Layers of Protection

With Kaecilius’ betrayal serving as a warning, having one more reliable member at a time like this would provide an extra layer of security for the Sanctum Sanctorum.

As sorcerers, their lifelong duty was to guard the Sanctums and protect the Sanctum Sanctorum itself. As long as these key locations were secured, the Dark Elves would be unable to invade Earth and threaten the lives of its people.

So Karl Mordo stepped out cheerfully, heading outside to fetch some clothes for Strange. He didn’t mind helping at all.

Strange looked around the room—it felt like he had stepped back into a primitive era. He figured he was going to be cut off from the world for quite a long time.

“Hopefully there’s some signal here... I should probably let Christine know not to worry about me,” Strange thought. Since his training hadn’t officially begun yet, he figured he still had a chance to check.

He decided to ask Karl Mordo about the signal situation—whether there was a phone he could borrow. He’d left in such a hurry that he hadn’t brought anything with him.

After stepping into the dimensional space with Alan, the only thing he had on him was the clothes he was wearing—he didn’t even have his phone.

“These are your clothes, and here are your toiletries as well.” The thoughtful Karl Mordo had prepared everything for him, knowing Strange had brought nothing.

Then, a piece of paper appeared in Strange’s hand, with three characters written on it: “Shamballa.”

“Shamballa? Is this... some kind of incantation or maybe my mystical name?” Strange stared at the note, puzzled by its meaning.

If it was his mystical title, maybe he could make a suggestion. A rough translation of “Shamballa” was something like “Pure Land of Ultimate Bliss”—Strange thought, I’m not dead yet. I really don’t like the sound of that.

Karl Mordo lowered his head, and when he looked up again, Strange noticed he was trying hard not to laugh, which only confused him more.

“Uh, actually… that’s your Wi-Fi password. We do have internet here. We’re not cavemen,” Mordo said, then turned and left—considerately closing the door behind him.

Strange suddenly felt his cheeks flush with heat. At the same time, his determination grew stronger: if he could truly master the mystic arts, maybe he could heal his hands.

Looking down at the “Shamballa” note in his hand, Strange fell into deep thought. Perhaps this was the path that would change his destiny.

He hoped Alan hadn’t left yet. He really wanted to apologize properly.

He had said a lot of harsh things to both Alan and the Ancient One earlier. If their personalities had been anything like his own, they probably would’ve kicked him out long ago and refused to take him in.

Strange reached into his pocket and realized something was inside. When he pulled it out, he was surprised to see the watch Christine had given him—he’d somehow brought it along after all.

……

“Do you need my help?” Wanda asked, feeling that her powers might be useful to the Ancient One. She wanted to do something for Alan.

“No need for now. If I do need help, I’ll let you all know,” the Ancient One replied calmly. Then she turned to Alan. “Would you like to say goodbye to Strange?”

Alan shook his head slightly. “No need. I’ll be back in a few days—it’s not like we’ll never see each other again.”

The portal opened once again. Alan didn’t think a formal farewell was necessary. He simply turned and returned to where he lived.

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Chapter 444: Don’t Forget the Emperor’s Instructions

Inside the majestic and radiant palace of Asgard, the handmaidens and guards could hear bursts of arguing echoing from within the hall every now and then.

Angela sat on the throne, helplessly watching Thor bicker with the Goddess of Death, Hela. Ever since Thor returned, scenes like this had become a regular occurrence.

Sigh… here they go again, Angela rested her cheek on her hand in exasperation. She had no desire to get involved in this mess—just dealing with one disobedient Loki was already enough of a headache.

She had recently retrieved Loki from his exile, thinking that if war really broke out, having him on their side could help protect the people of Asgard.

After all, with Thor’s brain, he only knew how to charge headfirst into battle. If any of the Nine Realms were to send out distress signals, it would inevitably fall to either her or Hela to respond. Especially now, with Hela constantly picking fights with Thor, the two of them being together was a recipe for more trouble.

“Didn’t the Emperor tell you to find Odin as soon as possible? Do you know how many days have passed already? When exactly do you plan on bringing Father back?”

As a devoted son, Thor was most concerned about Odin’s whereabouts. He had even gone to Heimdall, hoping to use his sight to locate Odin.

But Heimdall had apologized, explaining that only Hela knew where Odin had been sent—that it was a realm beyond his vision.

Since then, the first thing Thor did every day upon waking was chase down Hela to question her about Odin.

Hela, however, still held a grudge against Odin for sealing her away. Even though the Emperor had instructed her otherwise, she wasn’t willing to bring Odin back so soon.

Right now, Asgard already had her, Angela, Loki, and this big oaf Thor. Odin’s presence, in her eyes, was unnecessary.

“When he sealed me away back then, I don’t remember you saying anything to demand my release,” Hela immediately fired back at Thor with her usual sarcasm.

She still hadn’t truly forgiven Odin for what he had done. What was so wrong about wanting to rule over the Nine Realms?

Now that she had accomplished that, calling Odin back would be handing all that power back over to him. Hela had no intention of letting that happen.

She planned to eventually hand control of the Nine Realms to the Emperor!

Just thinking of the Emperor’s face made her legs tremble uncontrollably. Only the Emperor was worthy of her.

...

“You…” Every time Hela snapped back at Thor like that, he didn’t know how to respond. After all, it was only recently that he learned he had two older sisters.

He had always believed that Loki was his only sibling. Thor glanced at Loki, hoping he’d say something to help.

But Loki simply whistled and looked away. “Don’t drag me into your Asgardian family drama. I’m just an outsider, remember?”

Angela turned her head with an exasperated sigh. Loki wasn’t exactly an easy one to deal with either. When they found him in his place of exile, he had flat-out refused to return to Asgard. No one knew what Hela said to him afterward, but somehow, Loki had changed his mind.

“All right, enough of this pointless arguing,” Angela finally stood up, unable to stay silent any longer. If she didn’t speak now, who knew how long they’d keep going?

“Hela, don’t forget the Emperor’s instructions. No matter what Odin has done, he is still a god. Even Thanos has to show him some respect.”

---

Chapter 445: Let Him Stand in for Odin

Hela casually raised her hand and gently brushed the strands of hair resting on her shoulder. “Of course I haven’t forgotten a single word the Emperor told me.”

But in her mind, things hadn’t yet reached a point of emergency. Odin couldn’t leave the place she had sent him to anyway.

If Asgard truly fell into an irreparable crisis—or if another realm urgently needed helpthen she would consider bringing Odin back. Until that time came, there was no need.

Besides, Hela believed that with her current strength, there was nothing she couldn’t handle. It was Angela who kept worrying about this and that.

Hela couldn’t help but feel Angela seemed different lately. The once-fearsome angel who had once made her feel a twinge of fear now looked like someone else entirely. If she hadn’t seen Angela remain in Asgard all this time, Hela might’ve suspected that someone else’s soul had taken over her body.

“And also...” Hela slowly walked over to Loki.

Loki, still unsure of what was going on, instinctively felt a trace of fear toward the Goddess of Death. She was different from Thor—no matter how many times Loki tricked Thor, Thor never really held it against him. But Hela… was another story.

As she got close, Loki put on a fake smile and waited for her to speak.

“Loki has all those tricks mother taught him. Disguising himself as Odin... it’s not like he hasn’t done it before. Thor, you’re the most experienced one with that, aren’t you?”

Hela gave Thor a taunting look. This was exactly why she’d asked Angela to bring Loki back.

With his talent for shapeshifting, and with Thanos fearing Odin’s presence, having Loki transform into Odin should be just as effective, right?

“That’s not the same! Loki doesn’t have Father’s power!” Thor immediately stepped forward to object.

“Oh?” The ever-prankish Loki suddenly found Hela’s personality quite appealing—it suited his taste perfectly.

“Well, our powers aren’t the same, true, but...” As he spoke, Loki began to change his appearance using magic.

In just a moment, an elderly man with a white beard and an eyepatch over his left eye stood before them. Even his voice mimicked Odin’s perfectly.

“With you all around, if Thanos really shows up, I can just make a quick appearance, scare him off a little. Who knows? Maybe he’ll give up without a fight!”

The fake Odin shrugged slightly, clearly enjoying himself. Honestly, he was starting to think he might as well stay in this disguise for a while...

“Loki!” Thor’s eyes widened in anger, but Loki simply put a finger to his lips.

“Shh... With my current identity, Thor, you should be calling me Father. If we’re going to put on a show, we have to go all in.”

Loki wore a smug expression once again. A moment later, Thor tackled him to the ground. Hela didn’t lift a finger to help.

Thor felt utterly helpless. If Hela refused to relent, then Odin would remain trapped. It looked like he’d need to make a trip to Earth to seek help from the Emperor—only he might be able to persuade Hela.

As for Loki, now pinned to the ground, he didn’t really care either way. This was Asgard’s business. As an "outsider," he’d just follow orders.

Whether or not Hela was willing to bring Odin back didn’t concern him. As long as Odin wasn’t in any real danger, Loki wasn’t about to worry himself over it.

Angela pressed a hand to her forehead as she watched the chaotic scene unfold. A headache suddenly came over her. If only the Emperor were here—maybe things wouldn’t be such a mess.

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Chapter 446: Thoughtful Service

Earth.

Lying on the couch, Alan was enjoying a rare moment of peace, receiving some thoughtful service from Wanda, who was gently massaging his head and shoulders to help him relax.

Although Alan initially refused and told her she didn’t need to do this, Wanda insisted that, as his maid, her duty was to prioritize his well-being above all else.

Unable to argue against her, Alan simply “gave up the struggle” and decided to obediently enjoy the special treatment. Gwen had gone out to run some errands.

Recently, New York had become a little restless again, making Alan feel like the plot was starting to move forward once more—he could sense the calm before a storm brewing.

“Alan, your brow’s furrowing again. Am I pressing too hard?” Wanda asked gently.

Alan raised his hand and patted the back of hers. When he opened his eyes, he suddenly felt a bit embarrassed.

Since his head had been resting on Wanda’s lap, the moment he opened his eyes, he couldn’t see her face—only the towering snowy peaks on her chest.

Awkwardly sitting up, Alan let out a soft cough to ease the tension. “No, you’re doing great.”

Wanda’s massage truly helped ease the fatigue from his body. Alan looked up at the wall, calculating that it had been nearly five days.

He wondered how much progress Strange had made with magic. Given Strange’s natural aptitude and strong perception, perhaps he’d advanced even faster than expected.

---

At the Sanctum Sanctorum, Strange had only rested for one day before already feeling significantly more refreshed mentally.

Eager and impatient, he sought out Karl Mordo, asking when he could finally begin his magical training.

He thought everything would be smooth sailing. With his quick comprehension and exceptional learning abilities, surely it wouldn’t be long before he grasped the mysteries of magic.

Standing in the courtyard alongside his fellow disciples, Strange watched them practice spells. With elegant gestures, they summoned bright orange light from their fingertips, which danced through the air like living sparks.

And him?

He couldn’t even draw a complete circle in the air. No matter how hard he tried, no matter how focused he was, it was like trying to light a broken lighter—no flame, no spark, no success.

The more he failed, the more anxious he became.

“Strange, you must clear your mind. Your heart is too restless right now. You won’t be able to comprehend anything this way,” said the Ancient One, who had appeared silently behind Stephen Strange.

She understood his eagerness to master magic—it was a reflection of her own high hopes for him. But the more impatient he became, the harder it would be to learn properly.

With his arms folded in front of him, Karl Mordo added lightly, “Yes, Stephen. You need to concentrate. Maybe you should take a few more days to rest?”

He figured Strange’s mind was probably still recovering from the strain of performing so many surgeries in the past. Plus, he was new to magic—of course it wouldn’t come instantly.

Strange suddenly sank into frustration. “It’s... my hands. If only my hands were still normal…”

The Ancient One immediately understood: his hands were the source of his inner demons. Strange blamed every failure on the injury to his hands.

Seeing that no one replied, Strange began to wallow in self-pity again. “Now my hands just tremble weakly in the air. They don’t even respond to my brain. I probably don’t have the talent for this…”

Strange once again spiraled into self-doubt. Maybe Alan and the Ancient One had only been comforting him from the start.

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Chapter 447: Preserving His Dignity

He had no talent for this at all. Everything up to this point was simply a way to redirect his focus—so he wouldn't dwell on his injured hands.

Wasn’t it just a form of psychological therapy, like in medicine?

In that instant, the Ancient One could sense the overwhelming aura of despair radiating from Strange. Was he really planning to give up just like that?

Absolutely not. The Emperor had entrusted Strange to her care. Besides, she believed that Strange was currently the best candidate to safeguard the Time Stone.

Now that he was under her wing, if she failed to teach Stephen Strange the ways of magic, she truly wouldn’t know how to respond to the Emperor’s trust and goodwill.

“It’s only been a few days, and you already want to give up?” The Ancient One stared at Strange with piercing eyes. “Then tell me—how did you become a renowned genius surgeon?”

“How did you master all that medical knowledge and surgical skill?”

Faced with her barrage of questions, Strange slowly raised his head. “Through day after day of study...”

Karl Mordo immediately picked up where he left off. “Exactly. No one becomes a master overnight.”

Over the past few days, Strange had been sleeping late and waking up early. He had already finished several books borrowed from the magical library in a short time.

Mordo could tell Strange was desperate to learn magic quickly—but such impatience might only backfire.

“That may be true, but look...” Stephen Strange lifted his hands. Every finger trembled at a different frequency.

He couldn’t even hold chopsticks or a knife and fork properly. Every day, he could only eat with a spoon. His facial hair had started growing back, and even shaving had become an impossible task.

Just putting on the Sling Ring took him far longer than anyone else. The ring allowed sorcerers to travel freely between parallel universes.

Which meant he couldn’t skip this crucial step.

“You see this? With hands like these, how am I supposed to manifest anything into reality?”

Even when Strange pictured his destination clearly in his mind, he couldn't visualize it in a tangible form.

He couldn’t open a portal at all. Everything pointed back to one issue—his hands were different from everyone else's.

Others could draw complete circles in the air, while the best he could manage was a few faint sparks.

“So, you believe the reason you can’t open a portal is because of your hands—and not because you can’t fully focus your mind?”

The Ancient One countered him with a question. Seeing he gave no reply, she took it as silent agreement.

Strange didn’t believe the issue lay with his concentration.

“All right then... the rest of you may leave for now.” Wanting to protect Stephen Strange’s dignity, the Ancient One dismissed the other disciples.

After all, Strange was destined to become the next Sorcerer Supreme. If the others witnessed his current embarrassment, it might damage his future authority.

As the others left, Strange noticed only two remained—Master Hamir, the one he had seen with Alan when he first arrived, and Karl Mordo, who had been guiding him.

“Master Hamir, please demonstrate for Strange,” the Ancient One instructed sternly, her expression far more serious than when Strange had first met her.

“Yes, Ancient One.”

Hamir nodded and stepped forward. As he lifted his large robe sleeve, Stephen Strange gasped sharply in shock.

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Chapter 448: Thrown Onto the Snowy Mountain

To Stephen Strange's shock, the sorcerer named Hamir raised his right arm—revealing that it ended at the forearm. There was no palm, not even a complete hand.

Strange's eyes widened in disbelief. He hadn’t seen it wrong—Master Hamir’s hand was incomplete.

The next moment, Hamir’s stump waved through the air, and an orange magical glow gradually formed into a mystic sigil.

With a push forward, the magic sigil vanished from before Strange’s eyes.

“Master Hamir, thank you for your demonstration. You’ve worked hard,” the Ancient One nodded toward Hamir.

“Strange, do you still think the problem lies in your hands? You must focus your mind and learn to channel the strength of your body with the flow.”

Before Stephen Strange could respond, the Ancient One waved her hands through the air, and a portal appeared with her movements.

Through the portal, snowflakes as light as goose feathers drifted out, and the icy chill seeped straight into Strange’s bones. Even before stepping through, he began to shiver uncontrollably.

“Go with the flow? This... this is complete nonsense...” Strange still refused to accept the Ancient One’s explanation.

In an instant, she grabbed him by the collar and dragged him into the frost-covered portal. Every breath he exhaled crystallized into visible frost.

“Wha—” The curse on Strange’s lips stopped abruptly. He believed swearing would betray his sense of civility. “Ancient One, where are we?”

Dressed in just a short-sleeved shirt, Strange hugged his arms tightly, shivering. Frost was beginning to form in his hair.

As he looked around, he realized they were standing on the edge of a frozen mountain cliff—one wrong step and he’d fall to his death... assuming he didn’t freeze first.

“The highest snowy mountain in the world. Isn’t it beautiful?” Ancient One stood with her hands behind her back, admiring the vast expanse of snow before her.

It had been a long time since she left the Sanctum Sanctorum, and she took this opportunity to take in the breathtaking beauty of the snow-covered peaks, burning it into her memory.

“It... it is beautiful. But it’s freezing! Beautiful, yes, but I’m seriously freezing—my stomach is starting to cramp!”

In extreme cold, the stomach is often the first to spasm.

Strange hunched over, arms wrapped tightly around himself, and turned to the Ancient One—only to discover that she had already returned to the Sanctum.

“Wait—wait a second! Ancient One! You’re just going to leave me here?!”

From the opposite edge of the cliff, the Ancient One called out, “Where there's a will, there's a way. Strange, your problem is a lack of mental focus. Try concentrating in harsh environments.”

“You only have fifteen minutes. If you stay out here more than thirty, your life will be in danger.”

Stephen Strange panicked instantly. He tried to run back into the portal, but it had already vanished.

He ran face-first into the snowy cliff, burying his face in powdery frost.

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” Strange shouted into the void—but no one answered.

“This is getting way too intense,” Alan thought to himself, just arriving in time to catch the scene. He had assumed Strange had already passed this trial.

“Stephen Strange still can’t focus. We have to accelerate his training,” Ancient One said calmly, unfazed by the Emperor's sudden appearance—clearly, she was used to it by now.

Karl Mordo watched with concern, though he knew this wasn’t the moment to speak up.

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