277 Echoes of the Past (2)

There’s no reaction at all?

What Nizemar didn’t know was that these guards knew their place in the hierarchy—they were simply decorations meant to give the temple a regal appearance.

The entire White Bone Castle was a temple built by the Holy Tree Duke. She could appear or disappear anywhere in the palace at any time. It was only one of her most inconspicuous powers.

Although they were nominally guards guarding the Holy Tree Duke, they weren’t much more useful than the vases placed along a corridor for decoration.

The guards didn’t bat an eye at the duke’s disappearance from the reception room. At the very least, the thought that the duke had been dragged away didn’t cross their minds.

Just as Nizemar was marveling at the security of Holy Tree City, Elise suddenly asked, “Did time just pause?”

“What?” Nizemar asked curiously.

“I can see the Threads of Time woven around me, and I noticed some of them breaking and reconnecting.”

“What’s going on?”

From Nizemar’s point of view, what had happened was very simple—the woman simply shattered the Sealed Magic rune in her hand and was teleported to the Presiding Judge’s side after a struggle.

It unfolded as expected, Nizemar thought as she lay back on the sofa.

“It’s like cutting the rope before reconnecting it. There will always be knots where it reconnects.”

Elise continued as she curled up in the corner.

“Of course, I understand the concept of cutting and reconnecting the rope, but what do you mean by the Threads of Time?” Nizemar asked distractedly.

Nizemar couldn’t shake off the thought that consumed her.

She never imagined that the Holy Tree Duke could be a Divine Realm powerhouse…

Magic was a demanding practice, requiring all-consuming time and effort. As a result, current secular rulers weren’t typically those who had invested heavily in magic. There had been a few exceptions, but their reigns were now remembered as the Kingless Era.

Noble families, including the royal family, preferred to have their eldest sons inherit the throne and have their other children study magic to secure the family’s future. If they lacked the talent, they often brought in outsiders through marriage or adopted orphans with magical abilities as godchildren. These individuals would inherit the family’s magical knowledge and connections with the Astral Council.

Nizemar couldn’t believe that a duke could reach the Divine Realm.

And, to make matters worse, the duke was very young. How did she find the time, resources, and connections to achieve this feat?

Genius could explain the first two, but without connections to the Astral Council, significant progress in magic was almost impossible.

“It’s a complicated explanation… maybe it’s something like this?”

Elise scratched her head for a long time.

Elise struggled to find the right words to describe what she had seen. But after much searching, she realized that there were no adequate words in her vocabulary to describe the incredible sights she had experienced.

So, she decided to show Nizemar instead.

Under Nizemar’s puzzled gaze, she picked up the cold fruit tea cup from the coffee table that still had snow flakes in them, thanks to Floral’s spell.

She tipped the cup and snapped the Thread of Time with her finger.

The iced tea stopped mid-air.

“Ah, it hurts!”

After doing all of this, Elise retracted her finger in pain and blew at it.

Nizemar was stunned as the girl pointed to the suspended teacup and cried out, “That’s it! Do you see it?”

Almost at the same time, the cup shattered, sending shards and tea flying in every direction.

After regaining her composure, Nizemar asked, “…How did you do that?”

She was aware of the forbidden magic that allowed for time manipulation, but it was only accessible to those in the Divine Realm. Yet, the girl’s magical aura was no higher than an Apprentice’s.

She didn’t answer her question, instead, she gazed at the spot where the cup had floated, muttering, “As expected… the Threads of Time will heal themselves. But what if the deviation from normal time caused the threads to become bloated? What can be stored inside those recesses?”

“Wait, your finger…”

Although she didn’t quite understand what the other party was talking about, Nizemar saw the other party’s finger. It was purple and swollen, a clear sign of frostbite.

She got up, ignoring the tea mess, and approached the girl. Nizemar took her hand and was about to use healing magic.

The mana that had been flowing just a moment before suddenly vanished, as if it had never existed—not a result of dissipating or being absorbed.

The frostbite on the other party’s finger instantly healed.

Nizemar carefully gazed up at the girl and found white eyes staring back at her.

Although it sounded ridiculous, she found the gaze different from before.

“You…”

“I see the remnants of the Presiding Judge’s magic. Are you one of his subordinates?” the other party spoke first.

Nizemar was shocked at the mention of the Presiding Judge, and realized the other party was staring at the silver figurine on her chest.

This girl was not Elise, but something else entirely.

Before Nizemar could even think about how to respond, the other party continued.

“I have saved some information about Ravenwood Forest for the future. Make sure to remind that dimwit to gather more information from other places. I don’t have much time. Ha, or maybe I have infinite time. Anyway, remember what I am about to tell you. Tell William later. This is critical for the safety of Currere, don’t miss a single word!

“Nehe may he rest in peace. His plans to save Ravenwood in the past have failed completely. This is an incurable nation. It’s not only because this used to be the birthplace of the Lady of Starvation, Camilla, but also because the Forest Elf ancestors committed unforgivable sins for their own selfish desires in the past…”