Deep within the shadowy valley, tremendous crashes rang out from time to time. Some came from petrified angels shattering on the ground, while others came from ancient buildings collapsing.
The sunset, which should have lingered above the western horizon for some time, suddenly vanished. In its place rose a full moon beneath dense clouds. Salomon blinked hard, thinking he had somehow gotten the time wrong.
He quickly realized what had happened—the time here had been artificially accelerated. Sunrise and moonrise followed no natural laws. Once night fell, Sunrise and Crescent Moon Canyon erupted with lightning and thunder, and the temperature plummeted. Left with no choice, Salomon lowered Pegasus's flight altitude so he would not die stupidly from a lightning strike.
There was nothing particularly surprising about such a scene. Anything was possible in the world of magic. What made Salomon curious was what exactly—or what kind of magic—had caused this phenomenon. Every corner of this valley felt strange. It seemed isolated from the outside world, with nature operating according to its own rules, as if pressing a few buttons could switch day to night. The endless mist and thunderbolts filling the clouds also did not seem naturally formed.
Of course, Salomon could not draw a conclusion based on these phenomena alone. After all, he had not felt himself pass through any demiplane. Still, the statues of the Sage and the Witch in the distance made it clear that this place had something to do with the magic of those two races.
This was no time to think about such things, the Arcanist thought. If he was interested in this magic, he could return to explore it later. Right now, the serpentine Inspired angels were flying in one direction. The other angels, such as Dear and Decorations or Cachet & Compassion,