Marvel's Magical Case Files

The apprenticeship ceremony was nothing special. Salomon was extremely grateful that Master Ye did not reject him just because of his foreign appearance. Over the next few years, under the Supreme Sorcerer's meticulously planned education schedule, Salomon's daily routine consisted of traveling between Kamar-Taj, the Hong Kong Sanctum, the martial arts school, back to the Hong Kong Sanctum, and finally returning to Kamar-Taj. Every day, he had to wake up at the crack of dawn.

Among the guardians of the Hong Kong Sanctum, Salomon got along best with them for one simple reason—his taste in food. To their surprise, this "gweilo" (foreigner) could actually eat a big bowl of beef offal. And as the saying goes: "People who enjoy good food can't be bad people."

Salomon himself was amazed that he managed to revert to his student-era sleep schedule. Ever since he started working in his previous life, it was always just a blink after work, and suddenly it was morning again.

Ah, to be young again.

Of course, this rigorous schedule was quite demanding on his child-sized body. Fortunately, the power of the Saint was gradually taking effect—Salomon grew taller, stronger, and more agile than other children his age. Meanwhile, the Supreme Sorcerer did not neglect his academic education either. He was subjected to an intense curriculum of languages essential for reading mystical tomes, including Hebrew, Sanskrit, Greek, Old English, and Celtic. It was an immense burden for someone of his age.

Salomon had glimpsed the memories brought by the Holy Stigmata. He knew that legendary archmages had spent their apprentice years copying scrolls and attending lectures. But what kind of wizard's tower also required combat training? He wasn't planning on becoming a Bladesinger or an Eldritch Knight from the realms of Faerûn, wielding a blade in one hand and magic in the other.

To complicate matters, Baron Mordo had arranged for Salomon to obtain a nationality. As a result, he had to constantly evade the British child welfare services, which were trying to place him in a foster home and send him to school. They had even found an elderly woman who was willing to adopt him.

But Salomon refused. He had finally entered the world of magic—why on earth would he want to go back to elementary school?

Fortunately, the Supreme Sorcerer adhered to the philosophy of "just enough is enough." After five years of relentless martial arts training, by the time Salomon turned ten and could easily defeat his senior martial brothers, he was finally allowed to begin his studies in the Vishanti magic of Kamar-Taj. He had been waiting for this day for a long time—after all, he wasn't satisfied with only being able to cast cantrips.

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"I'm not sure if you should take this test," the Ancient One said in a quiet chamber. "You already know how Kamar-Taj mages obtain their power… But you are different. You were born with magic."

She hesitated. Unlike the other mages who signed contracts with the Vishanti, Salomon possessed his own innate magical potential. The way Kamar-Taj mages drew power from the Vishanti granted them great strength but also imposed limitations. Those who depended on the Vishanti's energy were ultimately bound by their will.

Yet, even the Vishanti feared the unchecked ambition of human sorcerers. They feared that one day, an all-powerful mage might bring catastrophe to the Earth. To prevent this, they deliberately placed restrictions on their followers. However, the Ancient One had a small advantage—she had been the first to sign a contract with the Vishanti. Because of this, her terms had been less restrictive, allowing her considerable freedom to grow.

Thus, she had prepared something special for Salomon. She held up a silver ring embedded with a sapphire. The moment Salomon laid eyes on it, he was captivated—not by the gemstone, but by the immense magical power it radiated. It felt just like one of Sauron's Rings of Power…

"The problem is, no matter how powerful your innate magic is, it cannot compare to the boundless energy of the Vishanti. I can shield you from the backlash of their power this time, but to fully control the Vishanti's magic, you will need all three rings," the Ancient One said, pushing the ring toward him. "After this, you will have to face the trials alone."

"I will do it, Master." Salomon bowed his head in respect. As he did, a faint sigil flickered on the Ancient One's forehead before disappearing.

"Then let us begin. Put on the Ten-Ring Prime."

Salomon carefully picked up the ring with his thumb and forefinger.

There was no burning sensation, no surge of uncontrolled energy—everything seemed surprisingly ordinary. He then slipped the ring onto the index finger of his right hand. Instantly, the ring adjusted its size to fit him perfectly, securing itself firmly in place.

Yet, the Ancient One did not relax. She quickly raised her hand, summoning a mirror dimension to envelop all of Kamar-Taj's mountainside.

"THIEF!"

A deafening roar shook the air. In the sky, a massive tiger's head appeared in the void, its eyes radiating blinding beams of light. Under the immense pressure of Hoggoth, cracks began to form throughout the mirror dimension.

"THIEF! WHERE ARE YOU?"

A sigil blazed to life on the Ancient One's forehead, but no one except Salomon could see it. Thanks to her protection, none of the other Kamar-Taj mages noticed the Vishanti's wrath.

"Master…"

Salomon grew anxious. He didn't know what price the Ancient One would have to pay for this. Despite knowing she had her own reasons for training him, she was still his teacher.

The Ancient One did not respond. Sweat dripped from her brow. Seeing this, Salomon quickly sat down, crossing his legs into a meditation posture. He had been taught from the very beginning at Kamar-Taj that focus was key to harnessing magic.

He imagined himself in a dark space, surrounded by ten glowing rings of different colors. He did not assign them any particular positions—only that they floated in a sequence from low to high.

He focused on the first ring, the lowest one. He willed it to light up. This was self-hypnosis—an act of willpower to awaken the Holy Stigmata.

In his mind, the ring glowed with hues of orange, olive green, maroon, and black (or rather, an absence of color).

In reality, a surge of magic erupted from Salomon's body, flowing into the ring.

The Ancient One slowly felt the pressure on her decrease. Not because the Vishanti had calmed their rage, but because Salomon was beginning to tame the power of the ring. His unique magical attributes were counteracting the scorching heat of Vishanti's energy. Without the Holy Stigmata, he would have been burned to ashes.

Hoggoth scanned the surroundings, growing increasingly impatient. Though he was part of the Vishanti Trinity, at his core, he was still a massive magical feline. And like all cats, he had infinite patience.

He decided to wait. The thief would eventually surface—there were still two rings left.

The Ancient One, exhausted, opened her eyes and watched as Salomon emerged from his meditation.

"How do you feel?" she asked.

"I don't know… but when I activated the first Stigmata, the ring's power submitted to me," Salomon replied. He had expected to be overwhelmed by a flood of memories from past sages. Instead, for the first time, he could absorb the knowledge slowly and peacefully. His own magic had suppressed the power of the Vishanti's ring.

"It seems I was right, Salomon," the Ancient One said. "You truly possess the Ten Rings."