LOTM: Traveling between epoch

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The nature of the historical fog was profoundly strange.

The history preserved within the Evernight Goddess's secret town and that beyond its bounds existed in complete disjunction. The two layers of historical fog did not intersect, nor did they share a common stream of time.

When Arrodes absorbed the gray-white mist—a projection birthed from a historical void rift—into its mirror realm, the phantom essence could no longer return to the past from whence it came. Instead, under the unique power of the magic mirror, the fragmented sequence began to re-condense—like a shattered Beyonder characteristic being reconstructed in real time.

Eli Walker gave an approving clap, his golden-red eyes gleaming with amusement.

A combination of virtual and real, the material and immaterial, reconstructed within a sealed mirror domain. Classic Arrodes—if there was a loophole in reality, it would find it.

This process faintly echoed the nature of Concealment, albeit diluted. And beyond that, it tapped into the power of historical fog.

"You rebuilt a Sequence 9 Beyonder characteristic?" Eli asked, intrigued.

It was just the lowest tier, a Bard trait—but the significance was not lost on him. Reconstructing a characteristic from the ashes of a phantom... this was monumental.

"I… I'm not sure," Arrodes admitted, sounding uncharacteristically modest. "I attempted to rebuild a Bard characteristic based on my internal knowledge, but I don't know if it qualifies as valid."

"Then let's test it."

Eli reached into the mirror, attempting to retrieve the characteristic. But as his hand touched the edge of the mist-bound fragment, the trait began to crumble, as though unable to survive reentry into the material plane.

"Not so simple after all…"

He withdrew and took a few steps back. A semi-transparent projection of himself emerged, stepping into the mirror realm and merging with the reconstructed item.

The Eli in the mirror consumed the Bard characteristic.

"Just like sunlight piercing the night,

Dawn streaks quietly across the sky..."

The melodic verse surged with mystic resonance—an effect inherent to the Bard Pathway. The song stirred the air like a psalm, invigorating the surroundings with emotional rhythm.

Confirmed: it worked. Limited and flawed, yes—but undeniably real.

Eli immediately silenced the mirror-self to avoid prolonged side effects. It wasn't perfect, but it was far from useless.

"Arrodes," he said thoughtfully, "don't you find all this… rather astonishing?"

That his spiritual will could remain synchronized across two eras through the medium of the Crimson Star and the Gray Mist, even Eli found it surreal.

"Eli Walker, perhaps this is the power of a Pillar of the World."

Arrodes, as a local mirror of reality, was far more composed than Eli himself.

"…Perhaps," Eli nodded, not ruling it out.

He began browsing through the mirror's spiritual sensing capabilities, probing the Spirit World for Mystical Items and traces of legendary relics.

"If fate really does have gravity…"

"I will find Groselle's Travels. The Book of Concealment and the Quill of Alzuhod are bound to cross paths eventually."

"And the best way to locate them—"

"—is to start with one."

"From the past… or the future."

Just as Eli was immersed in metaphysical calculations and strategic prophecy, a familiar voice rang out across the Gray Mist. It was Elaria Moonfest, the Elf Queen.

She had summoned him.

"Whoever invented prayer should be dragged out and shot…" Eli muttered under his breath. "This is supposed to be my off-duty time."

He left a series of instructions for his mirrored projection, then rode the wind, slipping through the Spirit World Gate toward Moonfest Island, which floated adjacent to Blue Mountain Island.

The sea waves parted of their own accord, and a doorway of divine mist opened into an independent pocket of reality.

He stepped through.

The palace within resembled a Water Curtain Cave, its architecture draped in soft elven elegance. The murals along the walls depicted the Elf King's ancient battle with the Sun God, rendered in celestial blue and silver.

On the way, Eli passed a number of female elves, all curiously beautiful and graceful, which prompted an idle thought:

Do the Kingdoms of Deep Darkness and Earth also employ this many maids?

Does a Demonic Wolf with six innate arms need handmaidens to brush its teeth?

He arrived before the throne.

"Your Majesty," he said with a lazy half-smile, "summoned me for something urgent?"

Elaria Moonfest, seated with perfect poise, paused mid-sip of her golden wine.

"Have you grown too idle, Eli?"

Eli blinked innocently.

"Me? Idle?"

He quickly reviewed how he'd spent the past few days: fishing, diving, basking in the sun, teasing mermaids, attending elven concerts, grilling shrimp...

"I was digesting the potion."

"Do you even know what digestion entails?"

"I consumed two portions of a Sequence 3 Sea King characteristic."

That was the truth.

His captive mermaid choir alone could form a reinforced battalion, each individual radiant with a beauty that rivaled Audrey Hall's—though their shark-like teeth were admittedly off-putting.

"Then when do you plan to re-enter the world?"

Elaria's tone didn't soften. "You should explore. Walk through the present era."

"If you stay here forever, you might reach angelhood. But that is all you'll reach."

Eli felt a strange sense of déjà vu.

Had he transmigrated into an ancient realm… only to hear the equivalent of: Go to the big city and make something of yourself, young man?

Was this transmigration… or his mother in disguise?

Bang!

A bolt of silver lightning exploded at his feet, sending him flying backward.

He wasn't injured, just singed. The electrotherapy worked wonders—shocking the silly metaphors out of his head.

Even dazed, he grumbled inwardly, My mother never hit me…

"What were you just thinking?" Elaria asked flatly, her sharp gaze pinning him.

"N-Nothing. Just… thinking of my mother. Or perhaps… grandmother?"

Zzzzt! Zzzzt!

Another surge of lightning snaked toward him. This time, Eli was ready. He ducked, twisted, and flickered aside like a well-trained Wraith.

"Queen, Queen! Please retract your divine power—this junior has repented!"

"I have no such disrespectful thoughts anymore. None!"

He patted his chest solemnly. "In fact, I haven't been hit like that since I was twelve. I should consider this… an effective form of communication."

Elaria eyed him like one might a badly trained housecat. Then, with a sigh, she raised her hand. The lightning twisted into the shape of a chair, and a gust of wind pressed him down into it.

Firmly seated, Eli crossed his arms and relaxed his head into his palm.

"I know what you're trying to say."

"Even if you hadn't summoned me, I would've gone out eventually. But can I at least hit angel Sequence first?"

"If I'm still just a demigod and start wandering… what if I die?"

Elaria's brows lifted slightly. She clearly hadn't expected this logic.

"You want to wait until angelhood before you step out into the world?"

She took a deep breath, trying to suppress her irritation.

"I'm also what you'd call an angel, Eli."

Her eyes narrowed.

"And I haven't been loafing around fishing with mermaids all day."

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