Medivan has been gone for a whole week, and it's been an unusually fulfilling week for Khadgar. Every day he buried himself in the library, and Moros was in charge of the three meals, and in the evening he spent the night at the big table in the library, and so on for a week.

He found some ancient books, some ancient books about time, light, and magic. While he was immersed in his studies, he received a letter from Kenrito. The letter was a reply to his previous report: Jazba asked him to send him a copy of Egwen's epic poems, in which Ms. Dyers said she had no idea what the books were about, and asked Khadgar if she could copy a passage under each bibliography and mail it to her, to which Oronda was convinced that there was a fifth type of troll in the world, and that Khadgar had not carefully read all the monster manuals. Khadgar put their pleas aside, he had more important things to do.

The breakthrough is a simple spell, Eagle Eye, which allows the caster to expand his vision several times and see things in the distance. One priest called it "Sacred Sight" and taught it to the local monks. Even if it can travel through space, maybe with modification, it can travel through time, Khadgar guessed. This kind of attempt probably won't work in the outside world, where rigid time is too much of a time limit.

But here, Karazhan's Tower of Medivan, a single qiē is possible. At the very least, the distorted space and the flowing sands of time here provide the prerequisites for the reality of the time, and those strange fragments of time, once touched, will be carried into another time and space.

Despite the clues, Khadgar couldn't find any more information, he needed more information, maybe those who were sleeping in the layers of protected ancient books, damn it.

He turned his attention to the most important research notebook—the notes written by Medivan himself. Oddly enough, there is very little mention in the notes about these illusions that seem to be reserved for other visitors. Did Medivan hide the information somewhere else, or was he more interested in things outside the castle?

Trying to create a magic that summons illusions inside the tower is complicated, and it's not as simple as casting the Eagle Eye technique outside. How does time work? What does the present time portend? Only with a deep and thorough understanding of these issues can it be possible to create that kind of magic. The slightest difference in a gesture, or even a change in the taste of the surrounding air, can lead to the failure of the whole magic. The energy that has been gathered will also disappear as a result. Sometimes, failed magic can cause energy disturbances that can lead to loss of control, and in recent research, Khadgar has found that the more intense the energy disorder, the worse the consequences. It also means that the closer the magic is to success, but generally speaking, those energies will disappear silently because of the failure of magic. Of course. There are only a handful of mages who can survive the violent energy backlash, so it seems that mages are also a very dangerous profession!

While Khadgar was researching, he was always worried that Medivan would come back, looking for an epic scroll or something. What if he is discovered? Will he sue Medivan for his research? Suppose he sues Medivan for what he did, will the great astral mage encourage him or stop him?

After five days of fear, Khadgar felt as if his magic was about to succeed. While retaining the original structure of Eagle Eye, Khadgar gave his new spell a random feature that searched for random apparitions. Those scattered sands of time are relative to the real environment. Brighter and hotter, and in short, weirder, that's how new magic finds them.

Spells also have a new feature: sound reproduction. Just as people behind their ears are accustomed to holding their hands in a cup shape next to their ears to increase their hearing, magic can collect and amplify sounds, and then process them so that the caster can easily understand others in illusions. Although it cannot handle distant sounds, it has a wonderful property: whoever the caster looks at can hear that person's words.

On the fifth night, Khadgar completed his magic calculations. He stood up and left Medivan with an inconspicuous manuscript and diagram of the magic array, which wrote down the entire process of magic. If something happens this time. At least Medivan would understand what was going on. Khadgar thought about it and walked into the warehouse.

Like the other masters, Medivan has a huge warehouse for storing magic ingredients, well, you can imagine the warehouse of the most powerful mages in Azeroth. There is only what you can't think of, and there is nothing you can't find. Only an hour later, a magic circle appeared in the library, its outer ring was surrounded by amethysts, and the energy-filled quartz was used to build up the inner patterns of the magic circle. Finally, everything is ready. Only the east wind is owed. Khadgar reviewed the spells one last time (most of them were already learned in Dalaran), practiced the gestures once (he had already learned himself), put on a loose robe (to increase his luck), and entered the magic circle.

Khadgar paused, adjusting to his condition. Yes, this time it's not a trick, it's not a simple instantaneous magic, it's a huge and dangerous magic. If he were in Violet City, a group of mages would find him and force him to swear that he would never dare to do so again. He shook his head, took a deep breath, and began.

The magic circle emitted a magnificent and soft light, and powerful magic began to work in the circle. Like a rainbow on the surface of the water gently swaying with the waves, he felt the energy condense within him, converging into a warm ball. This is the center of the magic control, and as long as the caster does not have an accident, it can quickly respond to commands and change the effect of the magic.

Khadgar transmitted consciousness into the sphere: I'm going to find an illusion, these illusions are in the tower, bring it here, bring it to me. The orb roared and then fell silent, seemingly awaiting Khadgar's specific orders.

"Bring a vision," the young mage ordered, "and let me see young Medivan." ”

With a soft pop, energy flew out of his consciousness and into the real world to find his master's target. While Khadgar waited for a reply, the wind blew in the library. Wind? How can there be wind here? Khadgar looked around and saw that the library didn't seem to be the same as it had been. It was an illusion that slowly surrounded Khadgar.

Like someone who opened a window, and a gust of wind blew, Khadgar felt a chill and he entered a false illusion.

It was another cold gust of wind, and that icy air seemed to be coming from Nordson. Although Khadgar repeatedly told himself that it was just an illusion. But he still couldn't help but shiver all over, it was so cold!

The walls around him faded away, replaced by a white plain, the cold wind swept away the books and scrolls, leaving a deep, thick field of snow, chairs, books, shelves, and so on all gone. Patches of goose feather snow swirled and drifted down.

He stood on the hillside, his knees buried in the snow, leaving no trace, and he became a ghostly presence in this vision.

Khadgar looked around. The exhaled white breath rolled and disappeared. To the right is a wooded field, which the blizzard has almost buried it. In the distance to the left was a shining white mountain, which Khadgar thought was a white boulder at first, but when he looked closely, he realized that it was ice. Huge layers of ice clinging to the cliffs, like some invisible hand leading a river here and freezing it. The glacier stood tall like the peaks of Dalaran, a few tiny black dots moving in white, and it was either an eagle or a falcon, which seemed so small on the giant iceberg.

In front of him was a ravine, through which an army was trudging. The soldiers stepped through the snow and stepped on the black soil beneath their feet, leaving a sinuous inky trail behind them. They wore red armor and horned helmets. A black turtleneck cape floats on his back. As can be seen from the weapons they carry, they are a group of hunters. At the front of the group, the leader held a long wooden pole with the head of a large green reptile hanging from the top—Khadgar thought.

As the army drew closer, Khadgar gasped when he saw what it was—it was a dragon's head. Even in Violet City, he had only seen the dragon's skull, and he had never thought he would be able to see the dragon's head with his own eyes. Where is this? What age is this?

There was a roar from the troops, maybe they were shouting slogans or singing, but the guys' voices were too flattering. It sounds more like some kind of curse. The sound was faint, as if it had come from a deep well, but at least, Khadgar could hear every syllable.

They were closer to Khadgar. Khadgar finally saw what kind of team it was. They didn't have red armor, red was their skin color, they didn't have horned helmets, two horns grew on their heads, and black turtlenecks were nonsense, replaced by two pairs of fleshy wings.

They are demons. Khadgar had heard them in Jazba's lectures, and the Demonic Existence was mentioned in the Quiregan Collection of Manuals. They are a more bloodthirsty and cruel monster than orcs. It looked like the team had just gone through a fierce battle, and their swords were covered in blood. Most of the demons were scarred.

There are so many demons here, they have just returned from dragon hunting. Where is this? What age is this?

There was a faint sound behind him, and Khadgar turned his head, only to realize that there was someone behind him.

It was a woman with a holy glow on her body, who had crept up from behind Khadgar, leaving only imperceptible marks on the snow. She didn't notice Khadgar, or rather, she didn't bother to pay attention to Khadgar.

She was dressed in a silver-scaled cloak, a white hooded cloak obediently crouched behind her, and Ishi could see the green silk lining of the cloak, and the silver-brimmed hood tightly covered her blonde hair, which cleverly hid her in the snow. She stood quietly on the cliff, and it seemed that the cold weather had not affected her. (Khadgar sneezes-!). She also wore an emerald necklace that glowed with a blurry green, as beautiful as her eyes—as brilliant as a sassafras emerald, as serene and majestic as the sea after a storm. Khadgar was familiar with the look, and Medivan had gazed at him with the same eyes, as if trying to see through his heart.

This is Medivan's mother, Egwen, the closest mage to a god in legend.

At this point, Khadgar knew where he was. In the epic poem of the library, he had seen this battle between Egwene and the demons, this place, that battlefield.

Khadgar suddenly understood what was wrong with the magic. Before Medivan left, he had borrowed the "Song of Egwene" from Khadgar. Could it be that the magic misunderstood what he meant, and instead of showing the apparition of young Medivan, he brought the scene that Medivan had noticed to him?

Egwene looked coldly at the demons in the canyon, his brow furrowed into the word "Chuan", and Khadgar seemed to see the churning and roaring green storm in her eyes.

She held up a hand and spat out a short incantation, her fingertips glinting. I saw a huge white light arc and slash into the demon team; this was not an ordinary lightning, nor was it a thunderstorm with an area attack, but elemental lightning; the cold air seemed to be split in half by a powerful purple-white arc, and a burst of explosive thunder rose to the ground and rolled in everyone's ears.

After the lightning, a spicy and slightly sour smell came through the air. (To be continued.) )