Time was an illusion. Or at least that was how it felt to Alnea. And he was not wrong, in a sense. Most of the accomplished illusionists majored either in the Mysteries of Time and Night, or the Mysteries of Time and Day. Of course, the best illusionists were still those from the lineage of Optah. Still, those who majored in Time could be considered better illusionists than most Wanderers.

  Alnea himself had never touched the Mysteries of Time. Except for the Mysteries he encountered in the Trials of the Arcanist Hall. But those Mysteries were artificial. And even then, the Mysteries from the lineage of Time that he handled were from the branch of Space. Time, it seemed, was still not with him. So, it did not come as a surprise to him when, by the time he came to his senses, Yuri had already stepped through the doors, leaving him standing alone.

  Yet, it was not as if Time was ruthless to him either. At least, it left him with some good news. Suppressing the surging happiness in his chest back into his Heart—hoping that it would not mess up the world within his Heart— Alnea took a deep breath, and stepped forward, placing his Blood Card onto the black cylinder falling just short of the height of his waist, and stood in place for two minutes before stepping into the curtain of yellowish light in the gap between the doors. Into the—

  The usual sense of disunity struck Alnea, disorienting him for a moment, as he stepped into the world of yellowish light. He was already used to the feeling of being surrounded of the Mysteries of Space though, so he—

  Another sense of nausea struck Alnea as he stepped forward once again, moving forward in the world of yellowish light. Though it would be a stretch to call the place he was in a world. Ironically, the place he was in was like a corridor, stretching endlessly towards infinity. A small, and tiny corridor, with barely any space for him to walk. In any case, it was too narrow and cramped to be a world.

  What was it then? A barrier between worlds? It was not as if he had not been to the barrier between the worlds, but that was in the state of his Spirit. It was his first time stepping through the barriers of the world in his body. Maybe that was why the disunity and nausea were so strong. It would also explain why he had not entered the Final World right away, but was still in the strange corridor of yellowish light. The sub entrance created by leveraging the Final World’s main entrance…

  Fortunately, Space, just like Time, also had some elements of illusion mixed within its Mysteries. What had seemed like a seemingly infinite corridor, transformed into a twisting vortex of yellowish light within just ten steps, taking just a fraction of a moment to engulf him, bringing him another bout of nausea. This one, greater than ever. Maybe it was not so fortunate, after all.

  Though being engulfed by the vortex was not entirely a bad thing for him. At least it helped him traverse the rest of the infinite corridor in just a moment, before spitting him out into a strange world. The only problem was the place he had been sent out to. A swamp, formed mostly of loose, sticky mud, with large ominous trees sticking its roots—both from under the ground, and from the branches hanging over the swamp— into the swamp from its banks, giving the surroundings an eerie atmosphere.

  Then there was also the strange, greenish fog lingering in the air, blocking out most of his vision. The low light was not helping him either. It was as if he had been transported into one of those damp, dingy rainforests, with large river basins that he had often read of. A combination of three different terrains then, Alnea thought, but did not come to a conclusion immediately. It was best to be more thorough with his observations. Besides, at the moment, his priority was meeting up with his teammates.

  Though, judging from his surroundings, finding his teammates was not going to be easy. Especially considering how he was submerged into the swap up to his chest. If only the vortex could have dropped him off to some dry place, and not directly into the swamp… Suppressing his errant thoughts, Alnea quickly took a second look around his surroundings, while sheathing his sword, and unfurling his Spirit. Ten, twenty, thirty, forty…

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  It was only when the senses of his Spirit reached as far out as a hundred metres, that he came to a stop. It looked like the worst had come to pass. The hundred metres that the city had warned in its rules had not meant a radius of hundred metres, but hundred metres from the last person who came to the Final World. If there had not been even more changes to the Final World, that is.

  Logically, in his situation, the best option would have been to stand still, and wait for his teammates to find him. But that was in the ideal conditions. Given how there had already been deviation in what they had assumed about the Final World, he could not just wait around, and let his teammates face all the dangers. Besides, it was not as if he completely helpless.

  Of his many skills, Alnea ranked his scouting abilities at the third rank. Although the dingy environment would surely hinder his abilities, he was sure that it would be faster if he went to find his teammates. So, maintaining the senses of his Spirit at a range of hundred metres, he began thinking of his next step. Expand the range of his senses? No, what would be the use of covering such a large area if he could not even process the things he was observing?

  It was not like he was in the Night Canyons, where he only had to worry about either getting ambushed, or some tricky parts of the terrain. He was in the Final World, separated from his teammates, not knowing what he would have to face next. He could not just selectively process a few things from what he was observing. Especially since even the senses of his Spirit were finding it hard to see through the greenish fog around him.

  What exactly was the fog? Just some damp air? Or some noxious gas? Maybe a way for some Oren Beast to mark its territory? The more Alnea thought, the more tense he became. But he could not panic. Not when his team still needed him. Taking deep breaths to calm his nerves, he summoned his Aspects, and gathered them around his body, boosting his physical strength, before quickly wading his way towards the banks.

  Still, no matter how quick he was, by the time he pulled himself out of the swamp, roughly a minute had already passed since he came to the Final World. That was three minutes for Yuri, five for Aren, seven for Vestia… Alnea stopped himself before he could fall further into the quagmire of his worries, and suppressed the useless thoughts in his Heart, preferring to act instead.

  Urging his robe to clean itself of all the mud, Alnea chose a direction, and began runni—No, running without figuring out the details of his surroundings would be reckless. And he had promised the girls that he would be careful. So, after he chose a direction, he began walking at a brisk pace, while observing his surroundings for any signs of danger, or his teammates.

  What he saw though, was only an endless stretch of strange trees, roughly ten to fifteen metres tall, and a couple of metres thick, standing about three to four metres from each other, spreading out in all directions. Then there were the even more strange roots, sticking all the way out of the ground, and entangling with each other to form all sorts of shapes. Some of them seemed recognisable, like a bird, or a rabbit, even a cat, but most of them were completely irrational.

  Still, it was thanks to these weird and unique shapes, that Alnea was able to tell where he was going, and ensure that he did not get lost in the strange forest. Especially with all the fog, and the roots handing from the branches of the trees constantly coming in his way, distracting him from time to time. The more he walked though, the more he felt that something was wrong. He had been walking for quite some time. Why had he not seen any sign of his teammates? Had he chosen the wrong direction?

  No. He clearly remembered choosing a direction which—

  Which direction had he chosen? And why did he choose it? A hunch? When did he begin relying on hunches? No, in the first place, why did he even decide to leave on his own? Confidence in his scouting abilities? Then why had he not used any of those abilities? Let alone his Arcanas, why had he not even activated his Aspects? No, if he remembered correctly, he did use his Aspects to leave—

  With the sound of a crunch, Alnea saw the world around him shatter and turn into fragments of greying green crystals, which soon scattered with the wind blowing on his face, revealing a blood red curtain of light blocking the mouth of a frog at least thrice his height, trying to swallow him whole, along with the mud he was trapped in. Mud? He was still in the swamp? How—