The next morning, the Kamar-Taj training grounds were exactly as advertised: cold, unforgiving, and filled with a bunch of sweating recruits trying not to look completely incompetent.
Ethan stood in the back row, wearing his rough, tea-colored training robes. He stretched his neck, glancing up at the main balcony that overlooked the courtyard. The Ancient One was standing there, hands peacefully clasped behind her back, giving him that same gentle, serene smile from yesterday.
If someone didn't know her resume, they would have thought she was just a sweet, bald grandma enjoying the mountain air. But Ethan knew better. That woman probably used dimensional demons as chew toys.
Down on the raised stone platform, Master Mordo paced back and forth, his face set in a permanent scowl. He was currently delivering the standard introductory lecture to the fresh batch of novices.
"The language of the mystic arts is as old as civilization," Mordo's voice boomed, carrying effortlessly over the quiet courtyard. "The sorcerers of antiquity called this language spells. But if that word offends your modern sensibilities, you can call it a program. The source code that shapes reality."
Ethan stifled a yawn. Thanks to the monstrous talent packed into his 10% Dumbledore template, he had practically inhaled the basic magic theory book last night. To a normal person, the text was a mind-bending labyrinth. To Ethan's new brain, it read like a basic IKEA instruction manual.
"We harness energy drawn from other dimensions of the Multiverse," Mordo continued, raising his hands. "We use this energy to cast spells, to conjure shields and weapons, to make magic."
With a sharp, practiced movement, Mordo dragged his hands through the air. Sizzling orange sparks erupted from thin air, rapidly forming into a glowing, geometric whip. The recruits gasped, leaning forward in awe.
Just then, a flurry of transparent blue screens snapped into Ethan's vision, stacked one over the other.
[Daily Mission Triggered: The Glass Cannon Fix]
Objective: Magic is great, but getting punched in the face still hurts. Complete the ultimate bald-hero workout: 100 push-ups, 100 sit-ups, 100 squats, and a 10km run.
Reward: 10 System Points.
System Note: Do this every day, or a stray punch from a common street thug will fold you like a lawn chair. Physical conditioning is non-negotiable.
[Daily Mission Triggered: The Academic Grind]
Objective: Study the mystic arts library for at least four hours today.
Reward: 10 System Points.
[Main Mission Triggered: The Path of the Supreme]
Objective: Why learn someone else's magic when you can make your own? Use your unique talent to research and successfully adapt five spells from your wizarding knowledge into stable Eldritch constructs.
Reward: 1000 System Points, 5% Sync Rate Increase.
System Note: Time to put that Dumbledore brain to work. Cross-universal plagiarism is highly encouraged.
Ethan twitched. Ten points for running ten kilometers and doing a workout routine that would make his lungs bleed? The system was incredibly stingy on the daily grind. But the main mission caught his full attention. A thousand points and a massive sync rate boost just for tweaking a few Harry Potter spells into MCU magic? That was the jackpot.
"Now, it is your turn," Mordo announced, letting the orange whip dissipate into thin air. "Focus your intent. Draw the energy from the Multiverse. Try to create a simple spark."
The courtyard descended into chaos. Recruits started waving their arms around like they were swatting invisible bugs. A few guys were grunting, faces turning red as they tried to force the magic out of thin air. Nothing happened.
Ethan didn't bother with the exaggerated martial arts movements Mordo had just shown them. It looked exhausting.
Instead, he took a deep breath and looked inward. He felt that familiar, thrumming warmth blooming in the center of his chest. His Wizarding Core. He didn't reach out his mind to beg the Mirror Dimension for a crumb of energy. He just tapped into his own internal battery.
He raised his right hand, kept his posture relaxed, and visualized the basic Eldritch formula.
Crack.
The sound was as loud as a snapping whip.
A perfect, glowing orange mandala shield flared into existence around Ethan's forearm. It wasn't a sputtering spark. It was a fully stabilized, geometrically flawless construct. It cast a bright, humming orange glow over the dumbstruck faces of the recruits standing next to him.
The guy to Ethan's left actually tripped over his own robes and fell backward.
The entire courtyard went dead silent. The grunting stopped. Every single eye locked onto the glowing disc on Ethan's arm.
Mordo froze on the platform, his stoic expression completely shattering into pure, unadulterated disbelief. He stared at Ethan, then at the shield, then back at Ethan.
"Uh, like this?" Ethan asked, letting the shield spin lazily on his arm. He gave Mordo an innocent look, completely ignoring the stunned silence.
Up on the high balcony, the Ancient One's gentle smile vanished instantly.
She took a sudden step forward, gripping the wooden railing. Her eyes narrowed, locking onto the new recruit.
She wasn't shocked by the shield itself. Kamar-Taj had seen prodigies before.
No, the Ancient One was shocked by the source.
With her supreme mastery of the mystic arts, she could see the flow of magical energy. Every single sorcerer in history cast magic by reaching outward. They acted as conduits, pulling energy from the dimensional leylines.
But Ethan's connection to the dimensions was totally closed. The energy forming that perfect shield wasn't coming from the outside. It wasn't borrowed from anywhere.
The energy was pouring directly out of his own body.
He isn't borrowing magic, the Ancient One realized, her breath hitching in rare, genuine shock. He is generating it himself.