Just as the natives of the Dreamlands could not perceive that they were products of dreams.
After the world was "dematerialized."
The Black Robes before the Ancient Castle and the Barov family wizards felt nothing amiss in their surroundings. They only thought that the half-risen, half-fallen moon in the distance seemed much brighter, while the air around them suddenly became heavy and oppressive. It was like the moment before a summer thunderstorm, when the raindrops were about to fall but had not yet done so—stifling, irritating, and enough to make one shudder involuntarily, as though lightning would descend the next second and explode beside their ears.
Besides that, many wizards noticed that the Starry Sky above their heads had begun to spin.
It was not a slow, natural rotation, but as if someone had hit fast-forward. The stars dragged countless silver-white trails across the night sky, circle after circle after circle.
The sound of waves crashing against the shore drifted into their ears.
Whoosh—whoosh—whoosh—
The sound was distant, yet clear; unfamiliar, yet familiar. It seemed to come from some long-forgotten dream, yet also from memories buried in the deepest reaches of their bloodlines, filling everyone with an overwhelming sense of déjà vu.
The Low-level Wizards looked utterly bewildered.
They did not understand what had happened. They only felt fear instinctively—not fear brought on by the Starry Sky or thunder, but a primal dread of the "unknown," born from the depths of their souls.
Yet the several Grand Wizard-level captives all revealed horrified expressions.
Even though their magic had been sealed and they sat sprawled gracelessly in the mud under the effects of the Binding Spell and Weak Leg Spell, their higher rank still allowed them to clearly sense that they were slowly "retreating."
They were not stepping backward on their