Two minutes later, he and his temporary companions, who might have been historical figures, finally broke through the layers of encirclement and reached the center of the garden. There stood a sunken, circular structure surrounded by tiered seating. At its center was a circular stage. It was spacious enough for an entire court orchestra to perform on, and large enough to host most stage productions.
A woman wearing nothing but a thin dress was held fast to an iron frame by gravity restraints. The firewood piled around her had already been lit.
The roaring flames obscured his view of her face, making her features impossible to make out.
But his instincts told him that he knew the woman in the fire very well.
The good news was that this was the first clue he'd picked up since beginning this "historical fragment instance," which made him quite happy. The bad news was—
An illusion! It had to be an illusion! After spending so long in this strange historical scene, I've started imagining things. Yu Lian told himself. So this is how the environment affects you!
...Come to think of it, could psychics have illusions? Any psychic who mistook their instincts for illusions was an irredeemable idiot, right? That was a truth he'd believed in since his previous life.
Yu Lian sighed inwardly, doing his best to calm down as he cautiously surveyed his surroundings once more.
First, there was the blazing pyre. The pile of fine timber was warping and collapsing, crackling as it burned. A delightful fragrance was even beginning to spread through the air.
It was clear that the timber was specially treated. It would have made the finest furniture. And for roasting meat... it might even have given the food a special flavor. Probably...
"So, why use firewood