A member of the Spirit Race beside Spirit Mountain said, "Patriarch, we've passed towering mountains and steep ridges all along the way. How does this look like a tomb? It's practically a Microcosm! How is that possible? Could we have fallen into an illusion?"
His warning instantly brought Spirit Mountain to his senses.
He studied his surroundings carefully. The moment he stopped, he was utterly dumbfounded.
Ahead of him, the people fleeing were still fleeing, yet the distance between them never increased. The towering mountains and steep ridges around them kept changing-the mountains were moving, but the people were not. Such a crude illusion left him dazed.
"We really have fallen into an illusion. Why didn't I notice anything just now?"
"What on earth is going on? What is this place?"
Ever since they crossed the Blood River, they had been repeating the same actions.
That also pointed to one thing.
Perhaps they had been inside an illusion all along.
They had to find a way to break it.
But how were they to do that?
He carefully examined his surroundings. Flaws were everywhere.
Every part of the illusion was so crude that anyone could spot it with ease.
He tried using the Spirit Race's methods to dispel the illusion.
But after several attempts,
he discovered that he had failed.
Nothing changed. His efforts had no effect whatsoever.
He tried many other methods.
Yet there was still no change.
It was clearly the simplest of illusions.
And yet he could not break through it, no matter what he tried.
"That damned ancient god. His mastery of illusions must be among the very best."
"There are clearly flaws everywhere, yet not a single one is a real flaw."
"Someone, find me a way to break this illusion."
He felt helpless. With