Ery swiftly returned to the mory crystals, selecting the records that ntioned temporal anomalies. As he delved deeper into the ancient knowledge, the scattered pieces of theory began to align. The signs were there—this place wasn’t just sealed away from space but also displaced in ti.
By now, the rest of the group had begun to grasp the severity of the situation. Soltz paced erratically, panic rising in his voice, while Rosin Karat, the supre magus, remained composed as ever.
"There is nothing we can do right now," he said calmly. "Let’s wait until the storm passes to confirm it."
Even with VIA’s analytical help, Ery found no concrete solution. All the available records were re conjectures, half-finished thoughts from ancient minds who had never escaped. Still, one hope lingered: if Vayarel and Talaro could perfect their coordination, they might tear through the veil of this prison.
Three long days passed in uneasy waiting until the realm’s peculiar cycle began anew.
Each cycle lasted five days. But due to the anomaly, every cycle consud a full month outside. One month lost—each ti. Ti was bleeding away faster than they could afford, and Ery felt the weight of every tick like a blade pressing to his throat.
The group erged from the cave, prepared for a second attempt. The female fairy warrior, still gravely weakened, remained behind.
Taking no risks, they etched a defensive array of runes into the ground at the edge of the clearing. The traps and sigils were designed to buy them precious monts once the creatures appeared. Talaro and Vayarel proceeded with caution, focusing their spells slowly, attuning themselves to the strange spatial-temporal flow of the realm.
Half a day later, a pillar of darkness rose once again into the sky, sending a ripple of unnatural energy across the land. Just like before, god-level beasts began appearing in droves, drawn by the disturbance. But unlike the last ti, they didn’t force the breakthrough. As soon as the battlefield grew too chaotic, Rosin Karat gave the order.
"We pull back now!"
Everyone retreated in unison, falling back into the safety of the cave.
Another attempt. Another failure.
Now, they waited once more for the next cycle, the looming fear in their hearts growing heavier with every lost day.
Ery was desperate enough to consider casting his [Black Hole] spell, hoping it would tear open an exit and bring them back into the Eternal Void. But both Talaor and Vayarel were firmly against it. The [Black Hole] spell was notoriously unstable—there was a high probability they could be dragged into an abyss far worse than this place. Worse still, there was a real chance the spell might destabilize and destroy the entire realm instead.
"Don’t even think about it," said Talaro, who had once been a victim of Ery’s [Black Hole] spell. "Luck like that doesn’t strike twice."
While the others brooded in silence, the Supre Magus returned to his ditation, focusing entirely on recovery.
Across the cave, Kaelyn prepared a ritual.
She began to summon the power of nature. With graceful hand motions and soft chants in the fey tongue, a patch of lush green flora blood to life along the cavern wall. Vines twisted upward like fingers reaching for light, and a bed of wildflowers ford at the center, glowing faintly with life energy. Carefully, Kaelyn laid the unconscious fairy atop the bed.
Then the fey priestess sang.
Her voice was soft and lodic, haunting and beautiful. The air shimred with her song as the ritual comnced. Ery watched in silence as the fairy’s body slowly turned to bark, then crumbled, flaking away like dried petals caught in the wind.
From the fragnts, a gentle wisp of light erged, pure and warm. It drifted into Kaelyn’s domain, rging with the living flora she had summoned.
The deer half-blood, Feanor, explained that fairies were deeply dependent on cosmic energy. Without it, they could not recover. The ritual was called the Song of the Fairy, a sacred rite through which a fairy undergoes rebirth—returning to a fetal state, to soday awaken once more.
Ery said nothing. The ritual was beautiful—but its aning was heavy.
This quiet farewell struck sothing deep in him. It reminded him just how fragile their lives were. And more importantly, it reminded him that returning ho alive had to be his true priority. The duel... the deadline... all of it ant nothing if he died here.
He turned back to the mory crystals. With renewed focus, he combed through every recorded observation, searching for answers—anything useful. Ti passed unnoticed. Then, his dark counterpart approached like a whisper in his mind.
"This is wasting ti... Let’s kill the dark elf... Take the gate. Let have my turn."
Ery sighed. It was tempting. But he couldn’t take that risk. He had been observing Talaro closely during each attempt, and even then, the dark elf’s mastery of spatial techniques eluded him. More importantly, Talaro wouldn’t surrender the gate without a fight. Right now, every potential escape route was precious. Eliminating Talaro could doom them all
"No," Ery said firmly. "We can’t risk it. Not yet."
The third cycle approached.
A third attempt. A third failure.
With each failure, the group’s morale waned. Doubt began to seep into even the strongest hearts.
By this point, Ery was convinced that the cave offered a reliable sanctuary. He finally summoned his daughter Shinta, along with King Rig and Haron, from his domain. Even Livi, Durak, Twik, and so of the chizpurs began to fill the cave. Their presence brightened the atmosphere—laughter returned, even if only briefly.
The reason Ery let them out was due to what Talaro had ntioned—the cave was filled with thick spiritual energy, far richer than even the energy in the Tartarus Realm. It was multiple tis more concentrated. Recognizing the rare opportunity, everyone began using the ti between cycles to cultivate and strengthen their power.
This environnt was especially beneficial for those seeking to comprehend the laws of space. Thus, the dark half of Ery focused intensely on deepening his understanding of Spatial Law. He even began studying magnetism under Vayarel’s guidance, desperate for any advantage that could bring them closer to freedom.
As for the Light Ery, he turned his gaze toward an even more impossible path—
To learn Temporal Law.
It was the most logical approach, given that they were facing a temporal anomaly. They needed soone who understood Temporal Law, and among the group, Ery was the only one with even a basic foundation in the light elent—an essential prerequisite for grasping the path of ti.
But understanding Temporal Law was anything but easy.
Among all elental paths, it stood at the pinnacle of difficulty. Even Spatial Law, infamous for its complexity, paled in comparison to the abstract, elusive nature of ti. Temporal Law did not follow fixed patterns—it fluctuated, slipped through comprehension. Without innate talent or divine blessing, it was nearly impossible to master.
In Ery’s case, records clearly stated that no known human had ever successfully mastered both Ti and Space.
And yet, whether by fate or design, his path had led him to this very mont.
His current condition—his existence split between two souls—might be the very loophole that allowed him to challenge the impossible. Adding to this rare opportunity, he had discovered the best possible material for learning Temporal Law: a record left behind by the ancient celestial, Eldran Solus.
This record required mastery of Celestial Light Elent ditation—sothing deeply intertwined with understanding the eight primary elents. And shockingly, Ery had already learned this ditation. It was the very [Prism of Light Technique], the one he received as a reward during the celestial ruins expedition.
Coincidence?
Even so, it was a daunting journey.
Ti passed.
Ten cycles.
Thirty cycles passed before he could even sense a flicker of Temporal Law.
Fifty cycles.
One hundred and thirty-two cycles later...
At last, Ery succeeded in casting his very first temporal spell.
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