Hmm?
Ryoma stopped what he was doing, a little puzzled.
This feeling...
He tried not to use Space-Time Magic for constructing spells, but instead let it flow purely within his body, then spread out in all directions like an invisible sensory network.
He wasn't trying to use any magic. He just wanted to use this profound power as a supersense to perceive the invisible magic flowing in this space. He wanted to know what exactly had triggered the reaction from his grimoire.
The magic network silently unfurled, sweeping past trees, piercing through rocks, sensing every subtle flow of magic in the space.
The next moment, a strange sensation welled up in his heart.
It was faint but it was definitely there.
In his perception, besides the normal natural magic, there seemed to be something else lingering.
It was a kind of... ancient, sorrowful, and endlessly resentful magical residue.
They were like invisible threads, mixed in the normal current of magic, drifting aimlessly. But all the threads seemed to vaguely point towards a distant, blurry, yet incredibly powerful source.
What is this?
Ryoma frowned.
This feeling made him very uncomfortable. An inexplicable irritation and oppression rose in his heart.
As if something heavy was pressing down on his soul.
He tried to trace the source of that feeling but found it elusive and impossible to pinpoint. Ultimately, he could only helplessly dissipate his magic, as if everything just now had been his illusion.
But Ryoma knew it wasn't.
He had never had such an experience. This resentful magic seemed to have traversed hundreds, even thousands of years, and still hadn't dissipated. That bone-deep sorrow and resentment were incredibly real.
...
In the evening, Ryoma returned to the Black Bulls' base.
The eerie magic he had sensed in the forest was like a thorn deeply embedded in his heart, leaving him unsettled for the entire afternoon.
That ancient and profound resentment lingered.
Right now, the base seemed a bit deserted.
Asta and Magna hadn't returned, and Noelle, who had secretly followed them out, was naturally nowhere to be seen.
Finral had probably run off to fool around somewhere again through a spatial gate, and Luck was also nowhere to be found.
In the empty hall, only Vanessa was seen, drunk as usual, while Yami was in his room, his aura steady, likely resting.
Ryoma didn't linger in the hall and went straight back to his room. He closed the door, shutting out all external sounds.
He sat cross-legged on the bed, gently placing the silver-white grimoire in front of him. He had to figure out what that magic was.
Ryoma's intuition told him it was definitely not a good thing, and might even be related to some huge secret, and perhaps only this mysterious grimoire could help him.
He closed his eyes, cast aside distractions, and began to try to enter a meditative state, no longer spreading Space-Time Magic outwards as he had in the forest, but doing the opposite.
He guided the silver-white power to form a cycle within his body, then slowly and carefully reached out towards the grimoire in front of him.
He wanted to establish a deeper connection with it, trying to sort out and analyze those chaotic and negative Space-Time Magic sensory signals through it.
Buzz...
As if in response to his request, the silver-white grimoire suddenly emitted a soft and bright light. The silver light enveloped the entire room, completely wrapping Ryoma within it.
A Space-Time magic power far purer and vaster than his own flowed back into his spiritual world along the wisp of magic power he had extended.
Boom!
Ryoma felt a roar in his head, and his entire consciousness seemed to be drawn out of his body, pulled into a kaleidoscopic tunnel.
He felt like a small boat drifting helplessly in a turbulent river, surrounded by rapidly receding stars and light, where time and space lost their meaning.
The resentful and sorrowful magic threads he had sensed during the day became incredibly clear at this moment.
They were no longer chaotic signals but converged into a torrent, pulling his consciousness towards an unknown destination.
After an unknown period, the light and shadows in front of him suddenly froze.
Ryoma's consciousness was forcibly drawn into fragments of blurry but deeply emotional scenes.
He saw architectural styles vastly different from the Clover Kingdom, exquisite and elegant, full of natural harmony.
He saw many people with pointed ears, long silver hair, and mana so immense it was terrifying, far exceeding that of humans.
Elves!
The word instantly appeared in Ryoma's mind.
The scene rapidly shifted, and he saw a grand wedding ceremony.
The leading elf was extraordinarily handsome, his face beaming with a happy smile. He possessed a four-leaf grimoire similar to Asta's five-leaf grimoire.
His bride was a human woman.
Just then, the scene abruptly shifted.
A blindingly intense light suddenly erupted.
It was Light Magic!
A huge, terrifying, destructive Light Magic descended from the sky, striking the unprepared elf wedding ceremony.
Ryoma couldn't even think. His entire consciousness was completely submerged by a sudden, immense emotional torrent that almost tore his soul apart.
It was extreme sorrow.
It was the despair of watching loved ones and kin turn to ashes before his eyes.
It was the shock and confusion of happiness being crushed in an instant.
And...
After all this, the birth of a monstrous hatred, enough to incinerate the entire world.
"Why... why!!!"
A roar filled with pain and resentment seemed to cross thousands of years, exploding in the depths of his soul.
The scene shattered again. He saw countless elf souls bound by some forbidden magic, filled with unwillingness and malevolence.
He saw a certain male elf, just before his death, seemingly witnessing some forbidden magic, which left only the flames of vengeance in his eyes.
"Humans... unforgivable... absolutely..."
Crack!
All the scenes completely disintegrated at this moment.
Ryoma suddenly opened his eyes, gasping for breath, his forehead covered in cold sweat.
He sprang up from the bed, his heart pounding frantically in his chest, as if it would explode.
What was that just now?
An illusion?
No!
That was not an illusion!
Although the scenes were blurry and fragmented, the overwhelming emotion was extremely real and profound.
He finally understood what that lingering magic he had sensed in the afternoon was.
That was not some natural phenomenon. Those were the lingering resentments of the elves, slaughtered five hundred years ago. It was their hatred, etched into space and time, never to be forgotten.
However, Ryoma understood that it was actually the manipulation of a devil that had led to the elves' demise.
He looked down at the silver-white grimoire in front of him, which had returned to its calm state.
It was not just a tool for recording Space-Time Magic. It was more like a historical recorder, a witness to time and space.
It was extremely sensitive to such immense emotional fluctuations deeply inscribed in time and space, which is why it resonated with that resentment, revealing that sealed, bloody scene before him.
The elves' revenge?
It was to exact a blood debt from the descendants of the first Wizard King who had betrayed them, and from all humans living on this land.
Although, to be precise, it was the devil's doing, it was ultimately achieved through the hands of greedy humans.
A huge conspiracy spanning five hundred years once again unveiled its bloody corner before Ryoma.