The owner of that hand was none other.
It was Ronan.
Ronan lifted the black blade, bringing it to his face.
The blade, stained red with blood, seemed to respond to some summons—right in Ronan's hand, it slowly dissolved and disintegrated, reverting to the purest form of dark energy.
As this wisp of dark energy dissipated into the air, the wound on Ronan's hand fully healed as if it had never been there.
The Ancient One looked at her now-awake disciple, a knowing smile spreading across her face.
"Teacher, your retirement plan's a bit too obvious."
"With such a heavy burden, you're just handing it over to me—are you sure about this?"
Ronan shook his right hand, flicking off the lingering blood.
What he didn't notice was that the blood splattered on the ground slowly seeped into it.
"You're already a qualified Sorcerer Supreme."
"I'm perfectly at ease leaving Kamar-Taj in your hands."
The Ancient One smiled—when it came to Ronan, she had no doubts.
Because all these years had been more than enough for her to see a person's true nature.
What kind of person Ronan was, whether he was just—the Ancient One had long made up her mind on that.
"Forget it."
"This Sorcerer Supreme gig—Teacher, you should keep doing it."
"I'd rather enjoy a few more carefree years—managing Kamar-Taj is just too much hassle."
Ronan pouted—truth be told, this kind of thing ate into his playtime.
The title of Sorcerer Supreme sounded nice, but it came with matching responsibilities.
By then, living as freely as he did now would basically be impossible.
The Ancient One just smiled without saying a word.
She knew her disciple—sure, he said this now, but when push came to shove, he'd be the first to step up.
"Ancient One!"
"And you, kid!"
"Are you both just ignoring me, Dormammu?"
Having been sidelined for too long, Dormammu finally had enough of watching this so-called family bonding drama.
Because he was someone without a family of his own.
The Ancient One turned her head, looking at Dormammu, a flash of anger passing through her eyes.
Who was she, the Ancient One?
The Sorcerer Supreme of Kamar-Taj.
Vishanti's spokesperson on Earth.
More importantly, one of Eternity's own.
If she'd held back before, it was because Ronan hadn't woken up—she had to ensure his safety.
But now, that wasn't necessary.
However, just as the Ancient One was about to act, Ronan stepped in front of her.
"Teacher, you've been shielding me all this time—you should take a break."
"This time, I'll take him on."
Ronan grinned at the Ancient One, then looked up at that arrogant, punchable face floating in the air.
When their eyes met, an inexplicable unease crept into Dormammu's heart.
It was as if…
Ronan posed a threat to him!
This threat was different from before—if the earlier ones were just about getting hurt or attacked…
This time, it was a threat to his life!
Dormammu was indeed the lord of the Dark Dimension, no question, but that didn't mean he was eternally invincible.
Eternal, maybe—but immortal? Not necessarily.
After all, plenty of gods could be killed, and Dormammu was no exception.
But soon, he dismissed the thought.
Where was this?
The Dark Dimension—his turf!
Even if that kid had absorbed some dark energy—hell, even half of it—with his eons of control here, Dormammu's survival was a given.
In fact, the moment that idea popped up, he felt a little embarrassed.
He was the mighty lord of the Dark Dimension!
How could he, in his own home, be thinking about mere survival?
Seeming to catch Dormammu's mental shift, a slight smirk tugged at Ronan's lips.
"Dormammu, sometimes being too confident isn't such a good thing."
"So, let's show you what kind of punishment invaders get."
With that, Ronan shot into the air, twin black crosses instantly forming in his hands.
The surrounding dark energy surged to life under his command in a heartbeat.
What had been a relatively calm Dark Dimension turned into a pond struck by a boulder, whipping up monstrous waves.
The dark energy around them began spinning chaotically—meanwhile, the two black crosses in Ronan's hands started rotating too.
The appearance of the black crosses sent a jolt through Dormammu's core.
Even his face betrayed a flicker of uncertainty.
Because he remembered—he'd seen this before, but couldn't place where.
"Enjoy it!"
Ronan narrowed his eyes, flinging the black crosses toward Dormammu.
The moment they left his hands, the crosses ballooned over tenfold, slamming into Dormammu's massive form.
Sensing extreme danger, Dormammu frantically summoned the surrounding dark energy, forming two giant hands that clashed with the crosses midair.
The monstrous shape before them might be an illusion conjured by Dormammu, but it was still part of him.
If this part took a fatal hit, his true body—hidden who-knows-where—might not die, but it'd be gravely wounded!
So, Dormammu launched a frenzied counterattack.
In midair, the giant hands and black crosses locked in a furious struggle.
The hands gripped the crosses, refusing to let them budge an inch.
But the crosses, under Ronan's command, aimed to pierce Dormammu's body.
So, it looked like a stalemate—neither side overpowering the other.
"Kid, is running your mouth all you've got?"
Dormammu started taunting.
He'd thought Ronan would bring some grand calamity, but this move he'd dreaded so much got blocked just like that.
Ronan just shrugged.
"Don't rush it—the good stuff's still coming!"
The moment his words fell, the two massive crosses suddenly broke apart!
They split into four black spikes, shooting through the gaps in the giant hands.
The four spikes, from four different angles, stabbed deep into Dormammu's body.
"Ah!!!!!!"
A deafening scream tore from Dormammu's mouth.
He didn't even have time to react before the four spikes buried themselves in him.
This was the first—no, second—time in all these years he'd felt such pain.
The last time someone inflicted this agony on him? Also Ronan!
Now, he finally remembered what those "familiar" crosses were.
They were the spears Ronan had used to wound him last time!
Only this time, Ronan had crossed two spears into a cross shape, throwing Dormammu off.
"Don't rush—there's more."
Ronan raised his right hand again, golden Rings of Raggador streaming from his palm.
Dormammu, gritting through the pain, threw up layers of black energy to shield himself.
But those golden rings didn't attack him—instead, they soared into the pitch-black sky.
This went on for a full minute—when Ronan lowered his hand, a trace of exhaustion flickered across his face.
"This move's still rusty."
"So, today, let's just give it a light test run."
Ronan shook his head, stretched out his left hand, and snapped his fingers!
Snap!
For some reason, the crisp sound echoed through the entire Dark Dimension.
And with that snap, the once-chaotic dark energy slowed to a halt, turning into obedient little kids following Ronan's lead.
The golden arrays lit up simultaneously in that moment.
In an instant, the dark expanse was illuminated.
Dormammu's eyes widened—he couldn't believe what he was seeing.
Where was this?
The Dark Dimension!
Darkness was supposed to be the eternal foe of light—there shouldn't be any room for illumination here.
But now, the Dark Dimension was lit up!
Ronan waved at the sky, like he was greeting someone.
The dark energy stirred excitedly, rushing toward the countless golden arrays overhead.
In that instant, the golden rings fused with the black energy.
If Scarlet Witch and Quicksilver were here, the siblings would've instantly recognized this move.
The only difference? This time, the arrays were ten times more numerous than last time!
And all of them were real!
"Dormammu, you've been away from Earth so long—bet you've forgotten what rain feels like, huh?"
"This time, I'll jog your memory."
Ronan winked with his left eye, then raised his right hand—index and thumb extended, other fingers curled, forming a gun gesture.
He slowly brought his right hand to his right eye.
"Bang!"
With Ronan mimicking the sound, the arrays activated all at once.
And their sole target?
Dormammu!
A torrential downpour of black energy bolts rained down, too fast to track.
Bang bang bang bang bang!
The relentless barrage hammered Dormammu's hastily erected energy shield.
The makeshift barrier didn't last a few seconds before shattering.
Countless energy bolts pummeled Dormammu's body, giving him a fresh taste of what "raindrops" felt like.
Except these raindrops were more like mini nukes.
Boom!
Finally, after nearly half a minute of bombardment, Dormammu shook off the initial pain.
A massive surge of energy erupted from him, cocooning his hulking form.
It blocked all the energy bolts outside.
You'd think he'd counterattack Ronan, but Dormammu didn't.
Instead, he shot Ronan a hate-filled glare before the energy swallowed him, vanishing him from the spot.
He… didn't even leave a word.
Watching where Dormammu disappeared, Ronan couldn't help but raise an eyebrow.
You know what they say—dogs that bite don't bark.
If Dormammu had kept spewing threats or taunts before, Ronan wouldn't have cared one bit.
But now, it seemed Dormammu had truly clocked Ronan's strength.
This time, he skipped the laughable trash talk and just bailed.
"Next time, he won't be so easy to deal with."
The Ancient One floated to Ronan's side, speaking softly.
"Don't worry, Teacher—it's not time yet. The Dark Dimension still needs him."
"I can't fully control this place yet, but a few more rounds, and even if he wants to run, he won't escape my grasp."
Ronan glanced into the distance, shaking his head.
Right now, he could only say he'd seized a chunk of the Dark Dimension.
Or rather, he'd forcibly "borrowed" a slice of Dormammu's authority over it.
From now on, he could drop by anytime he wanted—or even tap into the Dark Dimension's energy from the outside.
Whether Dormammu liked it or was willing to lend it? Ronan couldn't care less.
"Let's go."
The Ancient One nodded, her hands forming seals.
Ronan nodded too, mirroring her seals, and the two vanished from the Dark Dimension in a flash.
The Dark Dimension slipped back into silence.
Earth.
America, New York City.
Wong stood on Baker Street, looking at the New York Sanctum under reconstruction, a pleased expression creeping onto his face.
With the Ancient One and Ronan gone, the only ones left to hold down the fort at Kamar-Taj were him and Mordo.
Mordo stayed to guard the main base, while Wong came here to check on the New York Sanctum's rebuild progress.
Thanks to Stark Industries' construction crew, the work was moving fast.
In just over a month, it was nearly done.
All that was left was some interior decorating.
Wong was here to ensure the New York Sanctum got restored to its original glory.
Anyway, Ronan had already squared things with Tony Stark—the best people had to be on this job.
As for money, Kamar-Taj wasn't short on cash.
In the fight with Scarlet Witch, the destroyed relics and random knick-knacks from the New York Sanctum were worth enough to rebuild it several times over.
So, the saying "sorcerers are rich, warriors are broke" wasn't just talk.
"Thanks for your hard work, everyone—we'll treat you all to lunch."
"Here's hoping you can finish up soon—appreciate it."
Wong thanked the workers while chatting with them.
Overtime pay, top-notch meals, plus their company salaries—for these workers, this was a damn good gig.
Mid-friendly chat, a sorcerer hurried over to Wong's side, whispering a few words in his ear.
After hearing the sorcerer out, Wong's face changed in an instant!
Trouble!