The Blinking Realm is a mysterious domain in constant flux.
Here, nothing remains the same. It is erratic, with no discernible pattern. A traveler in this ever-shifting landscape may find themselves in a dense forest one moment, only to be in a swamp, an ocean, or a barren beach the next.
Water may burn, fire may freeze.
Yet, amidst the chaos, one entity remains unchanged—Sithorn, the magnificent and eternal existence. He alone stands immutable, the terrifying Old God.
"Velasco has failed again."
Sithorn closed his eyes, sensing the disturbance. Though Velasco's aura still lingered, it was weak—too weak. Worse yet, the foolish demon had borrowed too much of Sithorn's power.
Clearly, Velasco had encountered an unprecedented adversary, one that had forced him into a desperate struggle and left him at an absolute disadvantage.
Even as a transformed demon under Sithorn's influence, the power of the Old Gods was unfathomable. Too much exposure to such energy could drive even a Demon Lord into insanity.
Sithorn knew Velasco's failure was inevitable. He had no intention of aiding him—there was no point in wasting effort on a crippled pawn.
However, Sithorn did sense another presence in the same direction—another disciple of his, someone touched by his dark magic. Though Velasco's mission had failed, it had at least planted a seed. Sithorn would nurture this ember into an inferno, clearing the path for his eventual return.
He also detected a familiar artifact in that direction—the rubbings of the Darkhold, deliberately left behind in the real universe.
Sithorn smirked.
He knew well that no one could resist the temptation of black magic. Even the Sorcerer Supremes, the sworn enemies of dimensional lords, had struggled against the power recorded within the Darkhold's pages. Through countless iterations of the book spread across different universes, Sithorn had sowed seeds of corruption. Most would fail, but it only took one success for him to claim an entire universe as his own.
"One day, the Ancient Gods will reclaim their former glory."
"You're using the sword incorrectly. In battle, always ensure that a single strike is fatal."
"While in human form, your strength is your weakness. You must compensate by wielding your blade and magic with precision."
"Focus! Never let your mind wander! Observe your opponent's every move and anticipate their next attack!"
"Illyana! What are you thinking?"
"Don't worry about hurting me. If you could injure me so easily, it wouldn't be me teaching you—it would be the other way around."
In Limbo, Aaron was personally instructing Illyana in swordsmanship. Although she had learned various combat techniques and was proficient in martial arts, to Aaron, she was still raw, unrefined.
Thus, while teaching her magic, he also honed her combat skills. Through this training, Aaron himself advanced his mastery of the sword, spear, and other fighting techniques. However, despite his progress, his fighting skill remained at level six.
Nevertheless, his practical experience had improved significantly.
Once the sword training concluded, magic lessons began anew.
"Teacher, why does white magic lack offensive capabilities?" Illyana asked, her brow furrowed.
Since regaining her identity, she had accepted reality and chosen to follow Aaron, learning the white magic of creation and life. She also delved into Asgardian magic, where she demonstrated an innate talent surpassing even Loki's. In a short time, she mastered spells like explosions, portals, spatial storage, and mental barriers.
However, her grasp of white magic lagged behind.
Though she had started living as a normal person, she still struggled to see herself as one. The years spent in hell had changed her irreversibly. She was Illyana, but she could never return to the past. Her body and spirit were no longer purely human. Without the Bloodstone, she risked losing control and reverting to her demonic nature.
Since she could never go back, she chose to move forward. Aligning herself with Aaron and Kamar-Taj, she resolved to fight against the dimensional lords who continually threatened the real universe.
She would not allow anyone else to suffer what she had endured.
Aaron paused, then explained, "White magic leans toward protection rather than destruction."
"But... if we lack offensive capabilities, aren't we simply waiting to be attacked?" Illyana questioned.
In hell, strength was everything. When she was first captured, demons showed her no mercy despite her status as Velasco's disciple. It wasn't until she learned black magic and gained the power to fight back that they began to respect her. She had killed those who underestimated her. The survivors learned to fear her.
But even at her strongest, she had never been able to defeat Velasco.
How could she? He was the ruler of Limbo, wielding dominion over the entire dimension. The Old Gods empowered him. Her magic originated from him, and he knew every one of her abilities. How could she ever hope to kill him?
Aaron's arrival had changed everything. He had slain Velasco, and in Illyana's eyes, that made him the ultimate embodiment of strength—the only light in her darkness. He had given her a second chance at life, and she wanted to follow him.
Aaron smiled. "White magic isn't completely devoid of offensive techniques. It simply emphasizes quality over quantity. If it were entirely defensive, how could it have withstood black magic for so long?"
To demonstrate, Aaron introduced a powerful spell—an Excalibur forged from life energy and soul, designed specifically to counter dark forces.
Unlike conventional white magic, this technique required an unyielding spirit and a deep desire for justice or vengeance.
It was the Soul Sword.
Aaron had no interest in the exact process by which Illyana would refine this magic. He had neither the inclination nor the patience to replicate her experiences. That would be a pointless endeavor.
However, when he guided her through the spell, she instinctively grasped it. As if the knowledge had always been within her, she performed it without hesitation.
Merging a portion of her soul with her intent, she conjured the Soul Sword—a white-bladed weapon radiating pure light.
With the Soul Sword in hand, Illyana had become a true Magik, a force capable of wounding even the most powerful Dimensional Lords, including Dormammu and Mephisto himself.
"Now, you have one final task," Aaron declared, opening a pocket dimension.
Before them stood a disheveled, whispering figure—Velasco.
Illyana hesitated. It was this man who had stolen her childhood, who had created the nightmare that had haunted her for years. Even now, he was the reason she struggled with her identity.
Steeling herself, she thrust the Soul Sword into his chest.
Velasco's whispering ceased. His crimson eyes cleared momentarily in disbelief before his strength faded completely.
With his death, the authority of Limbo passed to Illyana.
The demons across the dimension immediately sensed the shift. Their ruler had changed. Yet something else was wrong—the energy within Limbo was still depleting.
Their new lord did nothing to stop it.
In truth, Illyana was actively channeling Limbo's energy to Aaron, repaying the kindness he had shown her.
"Take as much as you need. If it's not enough, I'll plunder other dimensions," she said.
Aaron absorbed half of Limbo's energy before stopping, knowing that stripping it entirely would leave Illyana vulnerable to dimensional lords's wrath.
"That's enough," he said. "Use the remaining energy to defend Limbo. If anything happens, contact me."
Illyana nodded solemnly. Aaron's fortress was established, but her journey had only begun.
Aaron observed the pocket space filled with energy and nodded in satisfaction.
This should be enough to continue improving my magic.
Once I advance, I'll continue working with Magik. Under the pretense of annexation, I'll challenge other Dimensional lords.
Conflicts between Dimensional Lords were nothing unusual.
However, if Aaron acted personally, the other Dimensional Lords would become extremely wary.
Turning to his student, he instructed, "I won't interfere in the rest. Return and take control of the territory left behind by Velasco. I'll reach out to you later."
The Magik hesitated before nodding, her reluctance evident. "If I have time… can I visit your real universe?"
In this dimension, Aaron was her only true acquaintance—Ancient One counted as half. After spending so much time together, she had grown quite attached to him.
"Yes," Aaron agreed. "But make sure to inform Kamar-Taj's Ancient One in advance, and don't stay too long. Limbo still needs you to keep watch, so I can rest easy."
His words were simple, but the Magik nodded firmly, as if receiving an important mission.
"Don't worry! I'll guard the borders of Hell so those demons never set foot here!"
"Don't be reckless," Aaron cautioned. "If you encounter an enemy beyond your ability, tell me immediately."
He had gone to great lengths to establish this stronghold—he wouldn't let it fall due to the Magik's stubbornness.
She was still too young.
She had yet to fully master the white magic he had taught her.
Moreover, with Limbo losing nearly half of its energy, her original strength would undoubtedly be weakened.
Facing seasoned dimensional Lords, she could hold her ground, but victory would be difficult.
She still needed time to grow.
Magik nodded, signaling her understanding.
With that, Aaron withdrew, returning to Kamar-Taj, where Ancient One awaited him. The battle was over, but the war was just beginning.
As soon as Aaron opened his eyes, he saw someone meditating quietly.
"It looks like your business is done. Why didn't you bring her back?" Ancient One asked, noticing that Illyana was still absent.
"She can grow faster there," Aaron replied casually.
Glancing at the time, he was surprised to find that, unlike what he had expected, time in the real universe hadn't progressed normally while he was at the border of Hell.
He had spent two full months teaching her, yet only a few days had passed in the real world.
This was a characteristic of Limbo.
Time there was chaotic—it didn't flow in a conventional, physical sense. No one aged to death in Limbo.
Sometimes, a single day inside could equate to years outside. Other times, it was the opposite.
However, this dynamic could be altered based on the Magik's will. As the dimensional lord, she had the authority to reshape the world's rules.
In fact, after Aaron left, she had adjusted Limbo's time flow while keeping the other rules unchanged.
Ancient One listened but didn't press for details. She was merely curious, but if Aaron chose not to elaborate, she wouldn't ask.
That was a matter of respect.
Aaron was someone who commanded respect.
She had no desire to pry into his secrets. In this world, excessive curiosity could be deadly.
Whether mortal or mystic, one should never be too inquisitive.
The ancient gods and beings from outer dimensions were real. Drawing their attention out of mere curiosity could lead to a fate far worse than death.
Ancient One, who had dealt with lords of various dimensions, understood this all too well.
After a brief conversation with her, Aaron left Kamar-Taj and returned to New York.
Everything was in place.
Now, all that remained was the final push—to upgrade the other two demons.