"Focus. Calm your mind and concentrate."
Smack!
A sharp, stinging pain flared on his forehead. Saitama jolted awake from where he had been slumped over the desk. He let out a huge yawn, blinking sleepily. After staring blankly for a moment at the woman in front of him—also bald, though without the shine—he finally reacted.
"Senior Ancient One..."
Saitama wiped the drool from the corner of his mouth. Looking at the thick, leather-bound tome spread open before him—an introductory volume on Kamar-Taj, sorcerers, and the foundational knowledge of inner-world dimensions—he scratched his head awkwardly.
"Saitama... what am I to say about you? Your academic imbalance is severe."
Dressed in an off-white sorcerer's training outfit, the Ancient One set down the ruler in her hand and looked at him helplessly. There was no real reproach in her gaze.
She understood Saitama's strength and temperament. His character was excellent, but his emotions were too detached, too lazy.
After all, in most situations Saitama could solve problems with a single punch. If one punch was not enough, then two. With his near-limitless special talent, each punch was stronger than the last. Anything that failed to crush him would only make him stronger.
Under such circumstances, it was only natural that his need for other forms of growth diminished. Even regressed.
For example, studying classical texts, magical runes, encyclopedic cosmic knowledge, or the arrangement of Kamar-Taj spell formulas—anything exceeding twenty consecutive characters made him uncomfortable to listen to, drowsy to memorize, and sleepy to read. Even the Ancient One could only shake her head.
Of all the mages who had come to study at Kamar-Taj, she had never seen one so academically hopeless.
Yet at the same time, he was the most unprecedented in talent.
Provided he overcame his flaw.
Raising his tolerance from twenty characters to thirty was still progress, was it not?
Thinking this, the Ancient One gave a soft laugh. With a sweep of her hand, streaks of light flashed. The teaching materials on the desk vanished, and the books on Saitama's table closed themselves and returned to their places.
"A hero—even a hero driven by interest—must improve himself, mustn't he, Saitama?"
"To you and me, the world is but a glimpse through a narrow tube. We spend our lives trying to break through our own limitations. And you possess even greater potential. I hope you will see more, understand more. Though I do have selfish motives, the journey that belongs to you—I hope you will tread it with caution. Remember, even those stronger than you have lost their way before."
"Oh." The reply was as flat as ever.
The Ancient One smiled warmly and stood with her hands behind her back.
"Go practice the Sling Ring spell. In terms used by the outer world, your mobility and weaknesses are too obvious. You need to compensate for them."
As if recalling something, she turned and added, "Saitama, if you encounter Strange, take care of him." With that, she vanished.
"Oh."
Responding again, Saitama stood up and shook his head. He slapped his face hard, which had grown slightly numb after undergoing "Kamar-Taj-style magical literacy training," and looked around the vast, magnificent library hall.
The soaring space was embedded on all sides with countless towering bookshelves. Brilliant patterned shields formed of spells shimmered faintly. One could vaguely see thick, leather-bound volumes reinforced at the corners, arranged neatly. Their heavy, mellow aura radiated an ancient weight like mountains.
"This sense of déjà vu... Me, an unemployed bum—did Her Majesty Selene just throw me into a magic school to study abroad?"
Saitama scratched his head and muttered.
He did not particularly mind. Back on his home planet, when he was a corporate wage slave he listened to the company president. As a hero, he listened to the Hero Association. Now it was the same.
Of course, he was not someone who did everything without thought like a mindless puppet. As long as the assignment was not too outrageous—normal exams, transfers, training sessions, team-building activities, performance targets and the like—he would comply.
Now, his superior was the Empire. Empress Selene was his superior's superior's superior. If the Empress ordered him to pursue further studies, what else could he do? Just like job-related training—he had accepted the task, so he would study.
Though he studied slowly, and his grades were currently... less than ideal.
"Well, whatever. Protect Master Chief John, serve as the Earth tax officer for the 117th Fleet, safeguard the tax source, and study... Weird commissions keep increasing. Feels like clubs, associations, empires—it's all the same. There are always strange new performance indicators out of nowhere..."
A complaint born from a seasoned former job-hunting wage slave.
...
"The gifts of the great god Eternity are always so unexpectedly delightful."
The Ancient One gazed toward the library where Saitama remained. She picked up an A4 sheet of paper on the table—completely out of place in the archaic environment—and looked at it thoughtfully.
Hero Association Reference Formula Book
—Caped Baldy—
Stamina: 10
Intelligence: 1
Sense of Justice: 1
Endurance: 10
Explosive Power: 10
Popularity: 1
Battle Record: 3
Fighting Ability: ? (Maximum value is 10)
"Absurdly inaccurate, yet strangely fitting," the Ancient One commented.
"It seems you are getting along quite well. In that case, I can report back."
Appearing silently behind her with hands clasped behind her back, the Beast Goddess stepped out from the shadows of the library, picked up a teacup from the table, and leisurely took a sip.
"Ah, please convey my thanks to the great god Eternity."
The Ancient One nodded. Selene's arrival had naturally been announced to her. Unlike Esdeath or Merlin, not everyone knew that the Beast Goddess Gorgon was the direct incarnation of Eternity.
In truth, even if someone perceived it, it would not matter. "Gorgon" was originally a Heroic Spirit—summoned by Selene from the Throne of Heroes at a specific point in time. Strictly speaking, she was not an avatar split from Selene herself.
At most, at the deepest level of the soul, her thoughts bore the imprint of the "Limiter" template. In the eyes of those perceptive enough, her relationship with Eternity appeared closer—elevated from apostle or believer to guardian. Not that the great god required protection, but it denoted a certain relationship.
Much like the Silver Surfer to Galactus, slightly beneath the Captain Universe to this world's Eternity.
That was also the Ancient One's speculation.
The Beast Goddess Gorgon was one of the guardians of Eternity from beyond the infinite shores.
"You seem to favor him excessively. Some of your disciples appear somewhat hostile toward his arrival," Selene said, looking toward the Kamar-Taj training grounds.
Saitama had grown stronger. In every sense.
During his battle against the inheritor of Chaos Magic empowered by the Mind Stone, the growth curve that none could perceive had surged exponentially under heightened emotion, surpassing his former self.
...
Whether it was dispersing the clouds above the Atlantic and half the planet with the force of a punch, or facing the ever-expanding, nearly out-of-control Chaos Magic and extinguishing its immense energy like a precisely calculated demolition without damaging the city—
At that moment, the Scarlet Witch, Wanda, did in some sense fulfill the potential she had long buried within herself, attaining the power to destroy the Earth.
One must understand that the power of the Mind Stone was far more than simply altering the minds of others. It could vastly amplify the user's own psyche, allowing dreams and thoughts to flood into the brain and even manifest into reality. That was precisely what every spellcaster required.
When Thanos wielded the Infinity Gauntlet and snapped his fingers to erase half the life in the universe, it operated on the same principle. It was the Mind Stone that directed the aggregated power of the Infinity Stones according to Thanos' will. That was why the Mind Stone had been the final gem set into the Gauntlet.
Unfortunately, the same truth remained. Wanda's mentality was fragile. How could her foundation be solidified in such a short time? Her potential had been buried for too long.
Still, the most violent and chaotic loss of control born from rage and hatred served well enough as Saitama's first proper emotional defibrillator.
"Hm?"
Continuing her observation, Selene suddenly revealed a look of surprise.
That caped bald head—was he actually rubbing the Sling Ring between his palms and attempting to open a portal?
So quickly? Had Saitama already begun to shed the image of a pure muscle-brained brawler and show results from cultivating both magic and martial prowess? It seemed that tossing him into the newborn sea of the multiverse to soak upon arrival had been a very correct decision.
"Magic has never truly belonged to this world. A great upheaval is approaching. Earth and Kamar-Taj require a force to maintain balance. Weaknesses may exist, but they cannot be so glaringly disproportionate."
Noticing where Selene's gaze rested, the Ancient One smiled faintly, her eyes seeming to transcend time itself.
As she said, within this universe, the mechanics of magic—and the spells cast by sorcerers, including herself—only produced temporary effects. Once the magical energy dissipated or was dispelled, the universe would naturally revert to its original state. That was the shortcoming of pure magic.
"Is that so..." Selene smiled softly. Having someone teach and guide her child's development truly made raising him comfortable.
"Here." She extended her hand.
Hum—
A swirling, flickering emerald radiance gathered, as if time and space themselves were condensing.
The power of the Time Stone settled.
Selene lifted her fingertip and casually shaped the energy into a luminous green crystal flower.
"Saitama is yours. For now. A hundred years or ten thousand—while you can, make full use of him." She handed it over with a smile.
Are you afraid I will die? The Ancient One could not help but laugh silently.
"Sorcerer Ancient One, I am taking John with me. May your teaching go well."
...
Training grounds.
"Hey! Baldy, what's your name?"
A long-faced white man with a receding hairline stood there. Fatigue and decadence made the wrinkles on his face more pronounced. Wearing a Sling Ring, he looked curiously at the bald man in a cheap yellow superhero suit before him.
"I'm not Baldy. I'm Saitama."
"Alright, Saitama. My name is Stephen Strange. You can call me Strange—or senior, or elder brother. And if I heard correctly, the Ancient One told you to look after me?"
"Yes," Saitama answered honestly.
Strange's face turned green on the spot.
Sure, my hands were ruined in a car accident—but I was once the world's best neurosurgeon. I have talent. I have already learned quite a few spells. And now this junior who has been here less than three days, with a completely average background-character face, is saying the Ancient One told him to take care of me?
I'm the senior here. I'm the elder brother!
And recently, the Ancient One seemed as if she had taken the wrong medicine—or perhaps was in some kind of mood swing. The training volume, practical combat, and reading assignments had all multiplied insanely. If he did not die, he was trained until he nearly did. He was exhausted to the point of feeling ready to return to God's embrace.
Strange felt he needed to prove himself.
He was no longer the bankrupt, pitiful, desperate, impulsive, hysterical rookie who had first arrived at Kamar-Taj knowing nothing!
"Come on. Sparring practice!"
"Oh... okay."
...
Boom!
Clatter...
The training short staff spun through the air and embedded itself in the distance. A body arced through the air and crashed heavily into the sand, carving out a long trench. His face met the hard ground first. When his mind cleared, Strange realized he was lying prone against the stone wall, face pressed into sand.
He had been knocked out with a single punch?
After more than half a year of training, I'm still this weak?
"NO—!"
...
Earth–Moon orbit, 117th Strike Cruiser Fleet.
"She still hasn't finished?"
Unaware that the future Sorcerer Supreme was currently suffering a crisis of confidence, Selene had brought Master Chief John back from Kamar-Taj and placed him within the flagship's central life-support apparatus. With two Gemstones empowering her body, she supplied the entire fleet with a continuous stream of abundant cosmic energy while observing the flickering disturbances on Mars' surface captured by the augur arrays outside the viewing port.
The magnified holographic display showed Mars' surface riddled with devastation.
Mountains and craters were warped into grotesque and desolate shapes. Canyons that seemed to split heaven and earth lay scattered across the battlefield. The high-pressure detonations of colliding cosmic energies resembled a vision of hell.
The gathered Heroic Spirits descended one after another, directing their killing intent toward the figure gasping amid scorched earth and molten lava.
"Damn it... Where did Nick Fury provoke this bunch from?"
Gazing at the equally battered figure before her—a woman with purple hair, her once elegant, alluring form now covered in melted debris and torn fragments of a deep violet bodysuit—Captain Marvel, Carol Danvers, felt her teeth ache.
She was truly hard to deal with. Her body bore piercing and slashing wounds inflicted by sharp weapons. The red, blue, and gold suit she wore looked like a ragged cloth, not a single part intact. In some places, the fabric had fused with flesh, revealing horrifying scars.
Even the golden cosmic photon aura enveloping her hair had dimmed and thinned considerably. If not for her ability to absorb cosmic energy to enhance all her physical functions...
"Move! Are you holding back on purpose? I know you don't want to excessively damage celestial bodies within the solar system. But why are we fighting like this?"
It had been exhilarating, yes—but she needed to get to Earth! After being blocked for over two days, she might only make it in time to collect Fury's corpse...
Zheng—!
Her veil long gone, the Queen of the Land of Shadows stood with blood at the corner of her lips. Her crimson eyes burned like planets, battle intent surging ever higher. Her demonic spear shrieked, sharp fighting spirit and killing intent proclaiming her stance.
You shall not pass.
"Damn it!" Carol cursed.
This woman was like a hound—once she bit down, she would not let go. The longer they fought, the more energized she became, never tiring. Equally seasoned in combat, Carol found herself led by the nose in technique. And that spear made her natural resistance to blunt force nearly useless.
"If the planets break, so be it! I can't worry about that anymore. Live or die—you brought this upon yourself!"
Hum—
"Photon—"
"Sharpening complete. Scáthach, your current Spirit Origin cannot yet ascend to the level required to defeat her. Return. Recuperate. Nurture and strengthen your foundation."
Golden neck scales gleamed coldly against fair, flawless skin. Carol's pupils contracted. When had she—?
A shadow loomed over her from behind. Countless sinister, icy serpent silhouettes transformed into writhing tendrils that reached toward her.
—
—
40 Advanced Chapters Available on Patreon:
Patreon.com/DaoOfHeaven