Buzz—
Gilan was currently moving through a twisted, profound, and bizarre interspace.
He carried the Philosopher's Staff in one hand, occasionally raising it to wave and slash through the space ahead, tearing open one fresh rift after another before slipping inside and continuing onward.
Strange noises came from all directions.
They sounded like the gurgling flow of viscous liquid, yet also like the movements of some creature writhing.
Gilan knew that they were actually the strange sounds produced as matter was continuously broken down and haphazardly reconstructed under the twisting and compression of space.
All of it seemed to contain the most fundamental principles of alchemy.
So he observed as he traveled.
Using it to continuously verify his own knowledge.
The surroundings contained none of the concrete things found in the mortal world. They were hazy and abstract, leaving only a mottled vista like black coffee and white milk mixed and stirred together.
Moreover, as Gilan moved, this vista stretched and dragged away behind him, as though it extended across an infinite distance.
The existence of such interspaces had in fact been recorded in occult texts more than a thousand years ago, but in the past, only a tiny number of powerful beings had been capable of breaking them open, let alone traveling through them.
Gilan's teacher, the White Sage Paracelsus, was one of them.
The Crippled King and the Blind General are still fighting, but they're shattering space and plummeting through it far too quickly...
Gilan pursued them with all his strength, his expression grave.
At this rate, I'll only get farther and farther from them, and it'll become even harder to find a chance to intervene.
Seeing this, he had no choice but to temporarily shift his altered points into Agility. Using the coordinates he had locked onto,