Wizard: Unlimited Profession Slots Chapter 1199 - 488: You Are Merely an Observer (Part 4)

"It recorded the entire details of the pollution process, while retaining the active traits of Abyssal Power.

Contacting it is equivalent to having a spiritual dialogue with an Abyssal Apostle, and any carelessness could lead to reverse pollution."

Ron took a deep breath, beginning to adjust his spiritual state.

The historical resonance technique requires the caster to tune their consciousness to a specific "historical frequency."

This process demands both precise technique and strong spiritual protection.

He initiated the meditation techniques from "Star Eater’s Ravings," but deliberately suppressed the "devour" trait within.

Under these circumstances, any exertion of active power could disrupt the neutrality of historical observation.

"Begin the first phase: emotional resonance."

Uther’s voice echoed like a guide in the meditation room:

"Let your spirit touch these relics, feeling the emotional imprint they carry.

Remember, only feel, do not try to understand or analyze."

Ron slowly extended his right hand, allowing his fingertips to gently brush over the surface of the broken magic wand.

In an instant, a massive wave of sadness crashed onto his consciousness like a tsunami.

This was no ordinary sadness, but a soul-deep despair.

It was the extreme pain of losing a close friend, being forced to kill the one most cherished.

In this emotional impact, Ron "heard" Lady Allen’s last words on that blood-red night:

"Sarlin... forgive me..."

The trembling in her voice conveyed endless pain and regret as if substantive.

Then, he placed his palm on the cover of the confession diary.

This time, the emotions were more complex: guilt, self-condemnation, and deep disgust towards his own cowardice.

Great Wizard Valen’s spiritual imprint surged into Ron’s consciousness like a tide:

"I should have noticed earlier... I should have stopped her... It’s all my fault..."

This was the deepest self-reproach from a powerful wizard, a pain even harder to endure than death.

Finally, under Uther’s strict supervision, Ron cautiously touched the pollution crystal.

This time, what assaulted him wasn’t sadness or guilt, but a certain twisted joy and satisfaction.

This was Sarlin experiencing pleasure during her descent into madness.

The sickening satisfaction thinking she was undertaking a "great deed."

"Now, initiate the second phase: time reversal."

Uther began to explain the operational points in detail, shadows moving slowly in the air:

"You will enter the historical timeline as an ’Observer,’ but must not change any event’s progression."

"Even when witnessing Sarlin’s impending fall, or the tragedy about to unfold, no intervention is allowed."

"History is a set fact, any attempt to alter it can trigger a time paradox, ultimately erasing the observer from the river of time."

The old professor’s voice became more solemn:

"No matter what terrifying scenes you witness, remain calm and rational."

"The intense emotions in history—fear, despair, anger, sadness—will try to affect your judgment."

"You must always remember you are an observer, here to learn and understand, not to empathize."

Ron closed his eyes, allowing his consciousness to begin retracing along the emotional path.

The surrounding reality started to blur, the walls of the meditation room rippling like water.

An unusual sense of weightlessness enveloped him, as if traversing through some invisible barrier.

When his vision refocused, Ron found himself in a familiar yet unfamiliar scene.

Here was a high-level room of the Crystal Tower, but the decoration style clearly belonged to over a century ago.

The room’s tone was warm, with furniture mostly made from solid wood, classical-style oil paintings hanging on the walls.

A warm, academic atmosphere filled the entire space.

But now, this warmth was completely shattered.

In the center of the room, Lady Allen knelt beside a corpse.

The young woman’s ears had undergone a horrifying transformation:

Her skin had an unnatural ash-white color, surface covered in strange snake-scale patterns;

Her once-beautiful face now twisted and deformed, facial features completely deviating from human norms;

Her hands transformed into sharp claws, nails like obsidian—hard and sharp.

This was Sarlin Vystra.

Once a genius girl, now an Abyssal fallen.

Lady Allen clutched that broken magic wand in her hand, its tip still stained with deep purple blood.

"You chose to betray everything we believed in."

Lady Allen’s voice trembled:

"I can no longer tolerate you."

The corpse did not respond, but the air in the room began to twist ominously.

At that moment, Ron noticed a shocking detail.

At the moment of Sarlin’s death, a faint "shadow" detached from her corpse.

That shadow, ethereal like smoke, was almost imperceptible to the naked eye.

But under Ron’s enhanced perception, he clearly saw this shadow’s form:

It was Sarlin’s soul projection, completely reshaped by Abyssal Power.

A smug smile lingered at the shadow’s mouth corner.

"Death... is just another form of beginning..."

Just as later developments showed, Sarlin’s "death" might not be the true end.

Her consciousness somehow persisted, gaining new existence within the Abyss.

"Now, return to the starting point."

Uther’s voice, like a compass, pointed Ron in the right direction:

"Observe the complete timeline of the event, starting from the initial signs of Sarlin’s fall."

Reality twisted once more, Ron’s consciousness was drawn back to an earlier time point.

That was three months before Sarlin’s descent.