At that moment, the Vysseran Continent experienced an upheaval unlike anything in human history.
Between the peaks, atop the mountains, at the bottoms of ravines, across the wilderness, and within the towns-as the earth split open, tender shoots burst through the soil. In the blink of an eye, branches unfurled and trunks thickened, becoming countless towering trees.
The giant trees formed forests, their crowns rising into the sky while their roots plunged deep into the earth, drawing in and devouring the power of its veins.
Across most of Vysseran, countless people trembled in terror, while millions of Spellcasters stared dumbly.
The civilization humanity had spent thousands upon thousands of years building was covered by a boundless sea of forest in a single breath. Everywhere one looked, towns lay submerged within the vast woods, as though the world had returned to the primordial wilderness.
Then the Spellcasters discovered that colorless threads had inexplicably appeared on their bodies, their other ends either vanishing into the void or connecting to those giant trees.
"What on earth is happening?"
"Is Vysseran going to be destroyed?"
High-ranking Spellcasters cried out and unleashed String Sorcery to sever the threads, but their efforts were futile.
Not only did their String Sorcery fail to destroy the threads, they felt their mental power draining rapidly, seemingly being forcibly drawn away through those colorless strands.
Thud! Thud!
Across the continent, low- and middle-ranking Spellcasters grew dizzy, as though they had endured nightmares for ten days and nights. Their consciousnesses grew dazed and weak, and they collapsed one after another.
High-ranking Spellcasters also turned deathly pale, their eyes filled with utter terror. Yet their minds seemed bound by an invisible net, making even the slightest movement agonizingly difficult.
Even some Upper Resonance Masters and the few scattered Weavers resembled fish stranded