"I want to go back."
It was just a single thought that appeared out of nowhere in Saul’s mind and quickly beca a deeply rooted obsession.
Saul’s left eye instantly turned blood red.
At the sa ti, the puppet doll hanging from his waist had its eyes flash from red to black—black so thick, so deep—and then, with a crack, it shattered into powder!
Inside Saul’s ntal realm, four figures suddenly appeared on the originally empty platform.
They looked at each other in horror, not understanding how they could have appeared when Saul hadn’t entered yet.
But even more terrifying was that the starry sky around them began to repeat endlessly:
"I want to go back, I want to go back, I want to go back..."
Herman cried out in fear, "What’s going on?"
Morden shouted angrily, "Soone is trying to influence the master's mind!"
Agu narrowed his eyes. "It’s not just influence. Sothing is modifying the master's mind."
The word "modifying" imdiately made them tense up.
Modification ant erasure and addition, but what had been erased and what had been added, the four ntal projections had no idea.
Just then, the diary floating above them lazily flipped a page.
The sound was loud enough to startle all the projections.
All four figures looked up in unison, terror flashing across their eyes.
Compared to the terror they now felt, their earlier unease was nothing.
anwhile, in the outside world, Saul, relying on his strong willpower, pushed himself away from the gap, forcing his eyes away from it.
There was now a dark red mark at the corner of his left eye, which would take a few days to fade.
At that mont, a streak of silver detached from the woven painting and nervously flew onto Saul’s shoulder.
"Master, master, are you alright?" Penny’s wings were trembling uncontrollably.
She was terrified.
The Nightmare Butterfly had entered this purely spiritual elf world twice before but had never encountered any attacks.
The soul's consciousnesses were always chaotic and disordered, lacking self-awareness or thought; their developnt and extinction were matters of re impulse.
But she hadn't expected that once her master's gaze entered this world, the chaotic souls would actively attack him.
Yes, in Penny’s eyes, the act of projecting information at her master was an attack!
Because this projection was domineering—it allowed no resistance.
If the master lacked defensive abilities, he would instantly accept that projected information, believing it to be part of his natural thoughts.
Such modifications was terrifying. It amounted to rewriting a person’s understanding of their own past.
If the projected information contradicted reality, it could even completely erase soone's sense of self.
Even Penny couldn’t repair that kind of cognitive damage, because she believed she could only observe history, not change it.
"Master… Are you feeling unwell anywhere?" Penny asked cautiously.
She was practically in tears, terrified that her master might suddenly lift his head and ask, "Who are you?"
Even worse, she had no way of telling which parts of Saul’s mories might have been altered. The tampered mories might only reveal themselves at a critical mont.
And that could bring about devastating consequences.
Saul turned his head, smiled faintly, and flicked Penny with his finger.
Surprisingly, he actually managed to physically touch the Nightmare Butterfly this ti, sending her flipping through the air.
"Eh!!!!" Penny cried out in shock, spinning midair. "Master, how can you touch now?"
"You’d better return to the diary for now."
Without giving her a chance to argue, Saul tucked her back into the diary. She turned into a silver hollow bookmark, quietly slipping between the pages.
Pa!
The diary closed with a crisp sound, and a few wisps of smoky dust escaped the pages, only to be swallowed up by the starry darkness.
Watching this, Saul sighed helplessly.
"This Nightmare Butterfly, not even realizing she herself was influenced, still worried about ?"
Indeed, for a mont earlier, he had been invaded by strange consciousnesses. But because those invaders dug too deep, they ended up intruding into the domain of a true powerhouse—the diary—who simply slapped them back with a turn of its page.
Thus, Saul easily regained his clarity.
Moreover, amid the chaotic foreign thoughts, he managed to extract so truly valuable information.
"The Elf King, when he saw the sinkhole, he must have detected so profound, hidden information that I couldn't. So, he conceived the idea of abandoning the material world entirely and creating a purely spiritual realm."
"And because the elves, while not very advanced in magical ranks, had extraordinary ntal talents, they actually succeeded. The principle behind it is sowhat similar to my own ntal platform but far more complex and complete… Hmm, even though I only obtained a fragnt of the knowledge, it’s enough for to upgrade both my ntal platform and ntal battlefield again."
"Right now, dragging people into my ntal battlefield is still a bit too abrupt, ineffective against those with stable ntal forms and strong wills. But if I could build it into a small self-contained world like the elves did, I could gradually draw people into it, without triggering strong resistance."
"No wonder the diary didn’t stop . It’s like robbing the robbers."
At this mont, Saul still had his hand resting on the pure white throne, and the black-and-white star behind him continued to rotate slowly.
"But that’s just a bonus. The truly important knowledge is about the elves themselves. They created a new world… and seemingly angered our world—or maybe I should call it our planet?"
Saul wasn’t sure if that was the most accurate description, but it was the most vivid.
It was as if the world itself had a consciousness.
When it discovered soone had dared to open up a new territory on its land, it beca enraged and kicked the entire group into the new territory—without caring whether it could support them.
Then, it locked the door from the outside!
This resulted in the trapped souls being subjected to imnse and endless compression, turning into a chaotic, fused mass.
Colorful and dazzling on the surface, but in truth completely chaotic and disordered.
For elves, who prided themselves on their ntal prowess, this was the most terrifying punishnt imaginable.
At the sa ti, the world’s consciousness obliterated the elves’ physical bodies.
In Saul’s eyes, it was as if the world was sulking: "Didn't you want to abandon your bodies? Fine, I'll destroy them for you."
Thus, when the elves lured Saul here, they urgently projected the thought: We want to go back.
"But just a single thought isn’t enough. They must have made other preparations."
Saul lowered his head. Earlier, when observing the world, he had placed the Elf King's head at his feet.
Now, he once again picked it up.
According to Penny, he was supposed to return the head to the pure white throne, which would an giving back the elves’ treasure.
But now, he doesn't feel like doing that anymore.
"However, I can't take it out either. Bringing it outside would fulfill the black space’s wish; placing it on the throne would fulfill the white space’s wish. Thinking about it, neither sounds like a good idea."
Although Saul did sympathize with the elves' tragedy—they probably hadn’t expected that a re act of innovation would destroy their entire race—
He was even more aware that these souls, compressed to an extre and thoroughly distorted, were now terrifyingly strange.
If they were ever released, what erged would not be the beautiful elves of old, but sothing entirely new.
Their attempt just now to modify Saul’s mind was proof enough of how corrupted they had beco, capable of easily erasing a person’s thoughts and mories.
Moreover, to survive in the material world again, they would definitely need vessels!
And what could be a better vessel than a human?
Among humans, wizards would be their pri targets.
"I can't bring it out, but I can’t just leave it here either. After all, the Elf Valley isn’t truly isolated."
Saul's fingertips tapped rapidly on the Elf King's head, making soft thud-thud-thud sounds.
"I don't have the strength to destroy it yet… Where should I hide it?"
"Give it to ."
A voice suddenly spoke up from behind Saul.
Startled, Saul imdiately turned around, and saw a figure standing at the end of the red carpet in the room.
"Who are you?" Saul demanded harshly, though it was difficult; the figure before him was so breathtakingly beautiful that rely maintaining a stern expression was already an effort.
The newcor, expressionless, replied:
"You can call Half-Elf. Any other na will just be blurred out."
Behind the Half-Elf, snowflakes drifted in through the open door,
As if this stunning figure had brought winter itself.
(End of Chapter)
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