An ominous feeling enveloped the sweat court, and there was silence all around, and there was no voice.

Muhati could feel an extremely powerful arcane energy suddenly erupt in this area, and although it was not visible on the surface, it was as if some basic rules had been completely changed.

The Psychic Warlock concentrates on his abilities and observes what happened in the area not long ago. Unfortunately, he was limited in what he could observe, and he saw all sorts of petitioners and messengers enter the Great Tent, but he could not see what was happening in it—the Great Tent was obviously full of powerful anti-prophecy spells.

It might be a trap here, but it's too late to recruit helpers. With that in mind, Muhadi continued on his way, entering the silent and eerie area.

It's as if a person immersed in water walks on land for the first time, and his body suddenly becomes heavy – or rather, it is so heavy that it is only realized for the first time.

The scene immediately changed, and the sky faded, revealing a navy blue, rocky top. The surrounding wilderness had changed, becoming eerie and cold, and the ground had become a strange material, like a vein in an ancient tunnel. Muhati couldn't help but wonder what kind of spell was causing this effect.

A sudden gust of wind nearly unsettled the Psychic Warlock, and he had to manifest an ability to adapt himself to the environment.

It's not complicated, and Psychic has cast it many times before, but when I cast it here, it feels weird and unfamiliar.

Muhadi looked around, and the tents seemed to be still in the same direction, but the distance had changed. He used another ability to make a simple decision on which way to go, and then began to walk through the eerie area.

Strangely, not a single person saw it. The more the Psychic Warlock probed the area, the more frightened he became, and at the same time he couldn't help but worry. If all the people here are gone, then Fatoumah...... Where else have the others gone?

The wind was blowing, and the wind was mixed with constant whimpering. Sometimes the wind suddenly changes direction, dropping small objects that have been rolled up and then blowing again. Sometimes smaller hurricanes form and move aimlessly...... After careful identification, the psychic sorcerer noticed that there were other sounds in the whimper, and proceeded to the source of the sound.

Muhadi walked to a tall, ornate-looking tent with four pillars piled high with skulls stuck in front of its door, presumably belonging to a great warrior. There were staccato human voices from the tent, but it was hard to make out the complete sentences.

The Psychic entered the tent, and an old man with a white beard and dressed in the traditional Atas robes and turban rushed towards him. His limbs were slender and sickly, like the tentacles of a dark underwater anemone...... His mind fluctuates—messy and discontinuous, filled with frenzied fragments and fleeting and inexplicable shapeless forms. This is a madman, al-Muhadi judged, but he is not an ordinary madman, and his qualities are disturbing.

"Did you see that!" the mad old man rushed to Muhadi, trying to grab the latter's robe, but he dodged him. "Don't you see? Can't you see?!"

"Choose your language, old man. The Psychic Warlock took a half step back and said vigilantly. "Tell me what's going on here?"

"You ask knowingly. The mad old man replied, his eyes out of focus, as if speaking into the air. "This is reality, this is normal. You ask me what happened?!

The psychic sorcerer looked around, and the mad old man and himself cast strange and distorted shadows around him, bearing no resemblance to the two of them. And they don't seem to feel the need to mimic the actions of their ontology, moving strangely. "Do you think that's normal?" he said, gesturing his head and gesturing his chin at the shadows around him.

"Reality is normal, and if you think reality is weird, then it's actually you who is weird. The mad old man's answer seemed to have something else to offer, but his frantic tone made Muhathir more and more vigilant.

This is the philosophy of the Starch Spencer Druids, if reality is normal, existence is reasonable. Then by destroying something, you are also denying the meaning of its existence. The psychic shrugged and slowly stepped back, sensing that the other's mental fluctuations were becoming more and more erratic and inhuman.

"Then you're a hopeless fool. The mad old man suddenly raised his hand, and the arcane energy gathered rapidly, and his face became more decrepit and old. A spell is about to erupt.

Muhadi took the lead in showing his psionic powers, forcibly seizing control of the mad old man's limbs. Just before his spell was completed, the mad old man's right hand grabbed his throat and then gradually tightened.

The old man fainted, and the hand around his neck was weakly released.

There was a dead silence all around, as if the magic had drained all the vitality of the vicinity. The mad old man was unconscious, and the psychic warlock noticed that he seemed to be compiling a tome with the words "Necronomicon" written on the cover. But a cursory glance reveals a wild and meaningless babble, so Muhadi quickly loses interest in it.

Leaving the tent, the Psychic made his way to the center of the camp.

Unlike the dead silence of the outer areas, there are noticeably more fluctuations in thinking here. Amazingly, these fluctuations were completely imperceptible from a distance, as if this strange space had greatly compressed the psyker's perception.

The Psychic Warlock noticed a group of warriors in front of him, dressed in traditional Atas robes, covered with turbans, and armed with spears or scimitars. They wore their armor underneath their robes, which is also typical of Athas, to avoid the scorching heat of the armor when fighting in a desert environment.

The samurai had apparently noticed the sudden appearance of the Psychic Warlock, who flashed their weapons and swarmed up.

These people are very martial, coordinated and agile, and they are perfectly coordinated. Maybe they were the guards here, Muhati thought to himself, but none of them he knew, and they all seemed to have been born after him immediately Attas.

One samurai flew up, and the other two skillfully attacked from both sides, their scimitars at a sharp angle, and their speed was amazing, and there was a sense of madness all over their bodies.

The Psychic Warlock was able to teleport himself behind them, deftly avoiding the trio's combined attack. But more samurai surrounded them, and even the three samurai who had been thrown away quickly adjusted their positions. One of them turned around and spat out a mouthful of strong acid, which didn't hurt the psychic sorcerer, but the stench was impressive.

Several other samurai also suddenly showed their abilities, and their speed exceeded the limits of mortal objects, leaving a vague afterimage in the air. The stony ground crumbled under their footsteps, kicking up small flakes of dust.

Soul Warrior!" Muhadi thought to himself, dodging as he opened his mouth and shouted. "Stand down, I'm not your enemy!"

“...... Abandon...... Resist ......," a masked warrior shouted in a majestic, hoarse, yet eerie, unnatural tone.

"I'm Muhadi!" announced the Psychic Warlock, apparently able to push back a few close warriors once more. "Don't push me to do it. ”

The samurai led by the "......" responded with silence while attacking. He manifested his ability to create several stone projectiles that shot at the Psychic Warlock. “......”

They didn't know me, and Muhadi realized that these warriors were too young.

The Psychic Mancer focused, and the ground writhed beneath his will, like a trembling carpet. Those samurai were unstable on their feet, instinctively showing their physical coordination abilities, trying to stabilize their bodies.

Taking advantage of this opportunity, Muhadi violently bombarded their psychic barriers, then tore their subconscious minds apart, sending them into a nightmare. Without saying a word, all the besieging samurai fell one after another.

The Psychic Mancer walked over to the samurai at the lead, ready to try to dig some useful information out of his head. Suddenly, he turned his head to look at a tent beside him. "Come out. ”

An emaciated figure flashed out from behind the tent, dressed in a comical outfit, with socks of different colors on his legs, and his shirt was patched like rags of various colors. The man wore a forked hat with two sharp horns, sewn from inferior linen.

This person's thinking fluctuations are calm and clear, no different from a normal person, and appearing in this strange place seems extremely unusual.

Several abilities probed the comer, and the psychic warlock was on guard. "Who are you?"

"Not your enemy. The visitor said, a sad smile on his lips. It doesn't match his ridiculous outfit at all. "Lord Muhadi, Prophet. ”

"Can you recognize me, but these samurai can't?"

"Too many people have named their offspring after you, and now one out of every five people is called Muhadi, or Moyadi, or Mahdi, or some other transfiguration. The person who came said, methodically. "It's not hard to understand that these samurai didn't realize who you were. ”

"But you realize it. The Psychic Warlock noted. "Even if you've never seen me?"

"Because I'm a smart fool. The visitor continued, with a mournful tone. "I'm a court jester, Rigoletto. A joke at a banquet and a fun object during a hunt. Lord Fahd believed that my presence would help to reconcile the atmosphere of the court. ”

"You don't look like a fool. The Psychic commented, "Except for your outfit...... And Fahd will not deliberately punish a smart person for being a clown. ”

"Appearances are often misleading, and when Fahd chose me, I was really stupid. The clown admitted. "This has only recently changed. ”

Muhadi looked around and pointed with his chin at the strange camp around him. "I'm guessing the change you said has something to do with the aberrations that happened here. ”

"Exactly. The clown nodded slowly, "Everything happened in an instant. ”

"It was as if it was business as usual a moment ago, and then the veil of the multiverse was torn open. ”

"The mutation erupts around the Golden Horde, and the barrier between reality and unreality bursts. From this wound, countless visions erupted that had never been heard of, let alone seen: colorful fires whose colors did not belong to this world, indescribable invisibles, all these strange entities that were fearful and incomprehensible rolled up and rushed towards the whole camp. ”

"The rift continues to morph before the eyes of the helpless victims, expanding by the minute, and some people cast teleportation spells or psychic abilities to try to escape this incomprehensible catastrophe, but their attempts are in vain, like a powerless falcon trying to fight against a raging wind. The mages and psychic sorcerers found their spells and abilities suddenly fail, and were immediately clutched in unspeakable madness and fear, and eventually died in a frenzied flurry.

"The usual laws of physics completely receded from this territory, and immediately afterwards, the spirit and mind were distorted and then reversed. The weakest ones are gone. Those who are tough enough, or lucky enough to survive. He was transported here along with everything around him. The Joker said, looking into the Psychic Warlock's eyes. "The brave become cowardly, the faithful become rebellious, and the foolish become wise. I'm a smart fool, that's why I know all this. ”

"A spell that completely reverses a person's faction, or a reality-reversing ability?" Muhadi asked, secretly taken aback. "But on this scale, it shouldn't be possible. ”

The clown kicked the dirt, and the dust did not fall, but gathered together and slowly drifted. "Neither a spell nor an ability has that power, and it's caused by an ancient artifact. ”

"When the Abyss unifies for the first and only time under the command of the Chaos Queens and the Tarantula Mithka, armies of demons poured out from every layer of the Abyss, threatening all the orderly forces of the multiverse. ”

"The Wind Dukes from the Wind Elemental Plane have created a powerful artifact, the Seven-Section Scepter. Its touch can bring even the bloodiest and furious demons to the ......camp of order," the Joker said. “...... But it does much more than that, teleporting Tarantula Misca, the commander of the demon army, to the Noisy Tunnels...... That's where we are now. ”

"You don't know exactly who used this artifact?" Muhati already had a rough idea of what was going on here.

"A messenger from Grand Druid Camilla. The clown said. "I don't know anything else. ”