Owen and the others, who had just seen Penelope being dragged out of the shadows by Luna, had barely rushed over when they saw the illusion Luna had conjured—in this gray zone, mist constantly coiled and circled over ground that seemed to have been scoured by time into decay and lifelessness, stripped of most of its vegetation and left with only dull tree trunks and withered shrub branches.
This also allowed the illusion to reveal, from time to time, the artificial traces the United States wizards had left behind earlier to resist the Kingdom Army. From the faint signs that emerged, it could be inferred that this was the main defensive zone of the Rocky Mountains in the United States—the traps buried in what had once been forest had all become dilapidated, and even those magical Magic Crossbows had been corroded by the gray fog, their broken arrowheads buried in the dust on the ground.
The once-vibrant Rocky Mountains had now become even grayer and dimmer. The land was gray, the sky was gray; there was no color, as though vision itself had been damaged.
And the sky, too, was covered by thick fog and clouds. There was no sun, no moon, no stars—only a dim gray glow radiating from the heavens.
"You should all still be fine for now, but Father, Lenn, and Penelope... your subordinates must not try to go nearby to observe or scout. If people with wounds in their hearts get too close, they may lose themselves and walk in on their own, the way Harry did when he approached the Veil back then..." Allen stressed gravely. "And even just looking at it is harmful to ordinary people. Those without spell resistance, if they stare too long and their will is low, will gradually lose perception