Chapter 448: Thrown Onto the Snowy Mountain

To Stephen Strange's shock, the sorcerer named Hamir raised his right arm—revealing that it ended at the forearm. There was no palm, not even a complete hand.

Strange's eyes widened in disbelief. He hadn't seen it wrong—Master Hamir's hand was incomplete.

The next moment, Hamir's stump waved through the air, and an orange magical glow gradually formed into a mystic sigil.

With a push forward, the magic sigil vanished from before Strange's eyes.

"Master Hamir, thank you for your demonstration. You've worked hard," the Ancient One nodded toward Hamir.

"Strange, do you still think the problem lies in your hands? You must focus your mind and learn to channel the strength of your body with the flow."

Before Stephen Strange could respond, the Ancient One waved her hands through the air, and a portal appeared with her movements.

Through the portal, snowflakes as light as goose feathers drifted out, and the icy chill seeped straight into Strange's bones. Even before stepping through, he began to shiver uncontrollably.

"Go with the flow? This... this is complete nonsense..." Strange still refused to accept the Ancient One's explanation.

In an instant, she grabbed him by the collar and dragged him into the frost-covered portal. Every breath he exhaled crystallized into visible frost.

"Wha—" The curse on Strange's lips stopped abruptly. He believed swearing would betray his sense of civility. "Ancient One, where are we?"

Dressed in just a short-sleeved shirt, Strange hugged his arms tightly, shivering. Frost was beginning to form in his hair.

As he looked around, he realized they were standing on the edge of a frozen mountain cliff—one wrong step and he'd fall to his death... assuming he didn't freeze first.

"The highest snowy mountain in the world. Isn't it beautiful?" Ancient One stood with her hands behind her back, admiring the vast expanse of snow before her.

It had been a long time since she left the Sanctum Sanctorum, and she took this opportunity to take in the breathtaking beauty of the snow-covered peaks, burning it into her memory.

"It... it _is_ beautiful. But it's _freezing_! Beautiful, yes, but I'm seriously freezing—my stomach is starting to cramp!"

In extreme cold, the stomach is often the first to spasm.

Strange hunched over, arms wrapped tightly around himself, and turned to the Ancient One—only to discover that she had already returned to the Sanctum.

"Wait—wait a second! Ancient One! You're just going to leave me here?!"

From the opposite edge of the cliff, the Ancient One called out, "Where there's a will, there's a way. Strange, your problem is a lack of mental focus. Try concentrating in harsh environments."

"You only have fifteen minutes. If you stay out here more than thirty, your life will be in danger."

Stephen Strange panicked instantly. He tried to run back into the portal, but it had already vanished.

He ran face-first into the snowy cliff, burying his face in powdery frost.

"You've _got_ to be kidding me!" Strange shouted into the void—but no one answered.

"This is getting _way_ too intense," Alan thought to himself, just arriving in time to catch the scene. He had assumed Strange had already passed this trial.

"Stephen Strange still can't focus. We have to accelerate his training," Ancient One said calmly, unfazed by the Emperor's sudden appearance—clearly, she was used to it by now.

Karl Mordo watched with concern, though he knew this wasn't the moment to speak up.

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