Chapter 81: The Schism of the New York Sanctuary

In this world, nothing is ever written without a touch of coincidence. As the London Sanctum of Kamar-Taj pondered seeking help from others, the New York Sanctum harbored the exact same thought. In fact, their urgency was even greater, for their door was blocked and they were utterly trapped inside.

A sorcerer from the New York Sanctum, with the Sling Ring twirling on his finger, traced a portal into the air. Yet, rather than stepping through immediately, he poked his head out, glancing warily around. Only after confirming the coast was clear did he step forward.

Yet again, the teleportation failed to reach its intended destination. Like the others, he was intercepted midway.

The space around him crackled with the sparks of a disrupted portal, and on the ground lay a sleek, jet-black cat, its fur as dark as ink. An raised its right paw to its mouth in a lazy yawn, casting a sidelong glance at the sorcerer. Yang Qiu had instructed it to wait here, intercepting any sorcerer who tried to escape, and send them straight back to the New York Sanctum.

The sorcerer pressed his hands together and drew them apart; a staff of pure energy materialized in his grasp. Taking a deep breath, he charged at An.

An’s whiskers twitched at the corners of its mouth. This was already the third sorcerer today who’d attempted a headlong charge.

An wanted to ask: Are you truly sorcerers? Not a single enhancement or defensive spell cast—just opening a portal and conjuring a melee weapon before charging in? Isn’t this more knightly than a knight?

At least knights would surround themselves with auras of resilience and might before a charge. If you’re going to imitate knights, at least learn properly.

“Meow!”

With a single yowl, An unleashed a surge of shadow energy that instantly swallowed the surrounding portals. With Yang Qiu standing behind it now, there was no need to worry about conserving power; compared to when it first evolved, its strength was now worlds apart.

The staff swung down with tremendous force.

An blinked out of the way, dodging the attack. With a gentle kick of its hind legs to the sorcerer’s head, a wave of terror invaded the man’s mind.

The entire unstable portal space shuddered. In the next instant, the sorcerer was ejected, flung backward through the still-fading portal in the New York Sanctum.

The others quickly rushed to his aid, propping him up as he teetered on the edge of unconsciousness, his lips twitching. As they tended to him, their gazes shifted to the great doors of the Sanctum. Attempting a diversion, as one sorcerer opened a portal here, another—hood drawn—slipped out through the front entrance.

It seemed the plan had succeeded.

When the second sorcerer failed to return, the others breathed a sigh of relief. But their joy was short-lived; suddenly, a figure crashed straight through the doors, slamming into the floor.

The head of the New York Sanctum hurried over and cradled the unconscious sorcerer. Unlike the first, whose wounds were of the mind, this one bore physical injuries.

With hands aglow, the head revived the sorcerer. “What happened? Is someone blocking the exit as well?” he asked urgently.

The sorcerer nodded weakly. “It was a strange figure, dripping wet, with a trident in hand—water manipulation at its finest. I couldn’t do a thing.”

The head’s expression grew cold. The portals were blocked by a black cat, the doors by an unknown opponent—clearly, they were being singled out.

“We must ask the Ancient One for help! She’s the Sorcerer Supreme—it’s her duty to aid us! Otherwise, what’s the point of the title?”

“Yes, yes, you’re right. Let’s call for aid at once.”

“Tch.” Amid the rising clamor, a discordant voice sounded.

The sorcerers turned. A few individuals, deliberately apart from the main group, leaned against the wall. Their leader, muscles taut, watched with an air of disdain.

“Morey! What’s your problem? We’re all contributing ideas for the collective good, and you’re the one sowing discord!” The head, pouncing on the opportunity to vent, jabbed a finger at Morey and raised his voice.

“Don’t try to pin this on me,” Morey replied, standing tall. “When you wrote those letters threatening the Ancient One, did you remember she’s the Sorcerer Supreme? I thought you had the guts to break away for real, but in the end, you’re all running back to her for help when trouble comes. Aren’t you ashamed?”

“Say that again!” The head pointed at Morey’s nose. “Don’t forget, I’m in charge here—you answer to me!”

“And you answer to the Sorcerer Supreme! So what are you pretending for?” Morey shrugged off his New York Sanctum robe and tossed it aside.

“You’re betraying all of Kamar-Taj! Put that robe back on and I’ll pretend I didn’t hear a thing,” the head said, softening his tone as he sensed things might escalate.

“Betraying Kamar-Taj? Who are you to say that? Only the Ancient One can revoke my status as a sorcerer!” Morey sneered. “I’m just done with this New York Sanctum. I think the Himalayas might welcome us.”

“Us?”

“That’s right. Us.” The few behind Morey also removed their robes. “We’ve had enough of you. All you do is play favorites and suppress others. You’re mediocre at best—what a joke!”

“You—you! Let me warn you, there are enemies lying in wait outside! Step out that door and you won’t survive!” The head was starting to unravel.

“You think we’re fools?” Morey waved a finger in front of the head’s eyes. “The worst that happens is we get knocked out and tossed back in. Not a single one’s life is in danger.”

“Even a fool could see the ‘enemies’ out there are probably from the Clock Tower, the very ones you fantasize about recruiting. Besides, they seem to have a good relationship with the Ancient One. Even if not, at worst, we’re unconscious for a while. As long as one of us can stand and explain things, we won’t be tossed back in here.”

The head’s hands shook with rage.

Morey shot him a final glance, then strode out the front door with those willing to follow.

A dozen minutes passed and not a single one returned, making those left in the New York Sanctum uneasy.

“They must have all been killed! Why are you all just standing around? Tomorrow, when the Hong Kong Sanctum’s sorcerers arrive, I’ll lead you all to take them out!” the head blustered, but stormed off as soon as he finished.

The rest exchanged glances. Did he really think they were fools? The odds of Morey’s group being wiped out were slimmer than the head besting the Ancient One in single combat.