Memory and imagination became a series of blurred, picture-like scenes, losing all clear edges and contours in that churning chaos. These could never have been constructed by their own consciousness; instead, they seemed like some vaster reality, ineffable, a reality beyond time and space. They knelt on the ground, their hearts like pendulums, merely swinging back and forth inside their chests. The wizards could not control themselves. They cast aside every thought, utterly unable to distinguish truth from illusion, as if in a single instant they had sunk into another world.
Whether in the sky or on the ground, countless books were spinning. Countless colorful magic runes, like fireworks, whirled before them and burst apart, dazzling as pyrotechnics. At the same time, black energy shaped like Raven Feathers surged out of those books. The ever-emerging black Raven Feather energy scattered in all directions, sometimes dissolving into one another, sometimes separating again in spirals.
The rapidly shifting scenes were so real and so vast that they exceeded the world as they understood it. A reality beyond time and space tugged at their spirits, making their consciousness seem to sink into it as well, unable to break free, able only to rise and fall with those books... Whether wizard or Dragon, it was as though they themselves no longer existed, but were like those exploding magic runes, constantly changing position and form.
Noticing that some weak-willed wizards had already trembled and fainted to the ground because of these things no mortal could comprehend, Allen, who still had not received the slightest response from Luna, stepped straight into the shadow cast beside him by the Ravenclaw statue, wanting to enter the small Chamber of Secrets at the top of the temple where Luna was staying.
But when he stepped out of the shadow,