When Miranda reappeared, Tasha was startled by her appearance.
The dark-robed mage's dark circles were worse than any previous day, rivaling the smoky eye makeup of a witch. Her hair was disheveled, her complexion sallow, her eyes bloodshot. Had the half-elf apothecary seen her, he would surely have shaken his head while stuffing food into her hands.
Only Mavis dared to provoke her now. Miranda's piercing gaze was sharper than ever, as if the slightest disturbance would send her into a rage. The fact that this dark-robed mage appeared so utterly unkempt spoke volumes. She wasn't some clueless mage like Edwin, oblivious to daily life. Miranda cherished order and tidiness, always keeping herself immaculately groomed—much like how she arranged items on her desk with meticulous precision.
Judging by her current state—untouched, unwashed, and unkempt for who knows how long—she must have rushed straight to Tashar to report whatever she discovered, without even pausing to tidy herself.
"We found nothing," Miranda stated. "We combed through every record, visited every accessible location, questioned anyone who might know something. Nothing. That's the problem!"
Half a year ago, Tasha had publicly revealed the existence of the Astral Plane within the Spellcasters' Guild.
Mages who inherited knowledge through books, witches who inherited power through bloodlines, druids who conveyed memories through nature... After being swept through turbulent times, these spellcasters were the most likely group to have heard of the Astral Plane. Yet when Tasha described the sky beyond the sky, the realm beyond realms, everyone's expressions turned astonished.
The expression on the mage's face could perhaps be better described as shock.
"A space existing beyond the three major planes..." murmured Bruno, the white-robed mage. "Yes, introducing this constant could explain the anomaly in the non-conservation of mana cycles. Why didn't I think of it?"
"The Fifth Element—Aether!" exclaimed Gloria, the alchemist clad in a rainbow-hued robe. "'Not found in the Celestial, Abyssal, or Material planes, yet encompassing all and present everywhere'—could this be what it refers to?"
"But there are no records of it," Miranda, the black-robed mage, frowned deeply. "If what you describe isn't some deathbed hallucination, the significance of this concept could fundamentally dismantle countless theories..."
The mages murmured in a language only they could understand, seemingly both enlightened and utterly perplexed. In contrast, the astonishment of the other spellcasters was simpler, closer to the awe ordinary people feel toward the unknown.
"There's no such notion among the Druids, not even in legend," replied Druid Eugenson, the custodian of Druidic knowledge and history. "Most Druidic lore concerns the nature of Eryan, rarely touching upon other planes. We're afraid we can't be of much help. My apologies."
"Likewise," nodded the half-elf Mavis. "Neither my mother nor I have studied this. My grandfather probably wouldn't either—he wasn't a mage, but an archer."
"Sounds formidable," remarked the nameless witch. "But I've never heard of it."
"What about astral witches?" Bruno interjected. "Has any astral witch ever mentioned the concept of the Astral Plane?"
"I've seen shadow witches, plague witches, echo witches, fire witches, evil eye witches, ghost witches... but never an astral witch." The shadow on the wall counted on her fingers. "None of my daughters became Astral Witches, nor have I met any among my kin. Before I started wandering the world, I did hear of a few. Oh, I wonder what kind Afra's daughter will become when she grows up."
Afra was one of the Echo Witches and currently the only witch to have given birth. Her ten-year-old daughter had a witch for a mother and six other witches as godmothers. Tasha, with the dedication of a panda keeper, had also stepped in. With such backing, she could practically walk all over Tasmalin—or even the entire Empire. Thankfully, the girl was naturally introverted, a gentle, thoughtful little angel—one in a million among witches. Otherwise, who knows what trouble she might have caused.
"Statistically, this defies logic," Miranda frowned. "There are only thirteen primary branches of witches. The probability of not encountering a single one in two centuries is lower than all remaining witches belonging to a single breed."
"Breed?" the nameless witch retorted, displeased. "You sound like you're talking about purebred dogs."
"Aren't you all a purebred, semi-magical species?" " Miranda replied.
The druid and half-elf sighed, watching as the shadows on the wall sprouted multiple "tails," like venomous snakes rearing up. Then, the protective wards arranged throughout the venue activated.
It was a universal truth: places where mages and witches coexisted required isolation and protective wards.
That day's meeting ended in a vicious kindergarten-level squabble. Tasha gained little and temporarily handed the issue over to the Mages' Guild. Miranda volunteered to take charge of the project. Though she had a foul temper, enjoyed picking fights with witches, and acted with brutal ruthlessness, she was exceptionally diligent and highly skilled in magical research—no, magical studies. Tasha felt completely at ease entrusting it to her.
Time rewinds to the present moment.
Miranda stood before Tasha looking haggard, seemingly driven mad by the research's stagnation—as if reading Tasha's thoughts, she shook her head decisively.
"It's not a bottleneck or a lack of direction," she said. "Every possibility has been systematically ruled out—both in our existing data and within the Imperial Grand Library's archives. Unless new ruins are unearthed, there's nothing left to do."
The collaboration between the Empire and Tasmalin Province deepened. The Empire's Research Institute and the province's Mage Association worked together at a joint facility nostalgically dubbed the "Archmage Tower." Books from the Imperial Library and the Integrated Repository were stored on one of the tower's levels, shared under a unified management system. Most researchers focused on the Abyssal Passage, while Miranda's team tackled the mysteries of the Astral Plane.
All volumes were cataloged within the dungeon. Though possessing greater knowledge than any mage, the Tasshars merely swallowed the data whole, functioning barely as a search engine. Actual research remained the domain of specialists. She continues to serve as the library catalog, with all entries directly accessible through her. A ghostly entity, separated and housed within the Archmage's Tower, points all inquirers to relevant bibliographies containing key terms—much like the tower spirits of legendary mages recorded in ancient chronicles. Her existence greatly enhances the mages' efficiency, enabling Miranda's team to comb through every volume within half a year.
The result of their search? A complete void.
Not a single volume mentioned the "Planes." Neither the term itself nor any related concepts appeared, as if past scholars had never conceived such notions—never imagined worlds beyond worlds.
This defied all logic.
Mages were not bookworms; quite the opposite. Magical scholars possessed both rigorous and unconventional minds. This brilliant group possessed boundless imagination and an insatiable curiosity about the magical world. Some of their research seemed utterly absurd to ordinary people (such as "On Whether the Anomalous Changes in Frogmen's Flippers Indicate the Migration Patterns of Northern Sea Siren Clans," and so on). The founders of the White Tower once declared with pride: There exists no truth beyond a mage's conjecture, only hypotheses yet to be verified.
Take the causes of magical decline, for instance. Within the tower's surviving libraries alone, Tashan encountered countless mind-bending hypotheses—ranging from karmic retribution to natural cycles, from magical tides to energy depletion. Even wildly speculative theories like the "brain in a vat" existed, ideas so bizarre they could leave novelists speechless. Yet amidst this profusion of theories, not a single one connected the phenomenon to the existence of the Astral Plane.
They were well aware that beyond the Material Plane lay the Abyss and the Celestial Plane, yet not once did they entertain the question: "Could there be something else?" It seemed as though, throughout history and across the world, mages had all shared the same blind spot.
"The existence of the Astral Plane seems shielded," Miranda stated bluntly. "Where does the energy dissipated from the mana cycle go? It's unlikely to vanish from the Material Plane. Where did the dragons, elves, and Archdruids of the Abyss and the Heavens go? Where could the fifth element, absent from the three major planes, possibly be? The strange trajectories of the stars... Among so many questions, these were obvious speculations. How did we not think of them? I didn't think of it, they didn't think of it, no one in all those years thought of it—it's impossible!"
Why hadn't they thought of it before? The mages experienced a sudden clarity yet profound confusion upon hearing Tashar's explanation, utterly perplexed by such an inexcusable oversight. It wasn't just the mages. When the Archfiend Victor beheld the Outlands, he blurted out the name of the Astral Plane, then muttered indistinctly, "Why didn't I ever think of it?"
Why? Why?
The Imperial Astrologers' family had long been puzzled by the peculiarities in the celestial patterns, yet somehow never pursued them further. The Star Witches had vanished entirely over the past two centuries; the longest-lived nameless witch knew only that these Star Witches "knew the secrets of the stars" and "lived remarkably short lives." Douglas the dragon had no recollection of his kin's whereabouts. When Tasha suggested the possibility that "dragons journey to the Astral Plane," he nodded in astonishment, wondering why he'd never considered it...
The Astral Plane seemed determined to remain unknown to the creatures of Eryan.
Tasha glanced once more at the dungeon card.
[Astral Traveler]: You briefly dwelled in the Astral Plane and passed its Will test. Your capacity could only scoop a single ladle from the river of infinite knowledge, yet the experience of nearly drowning in its currents prevents swift suffocation next time—your soul was baptized by the Astral Plane. For reasons unknown, you left an anchor there. It is fragile, yet it remains."
This journey likely granted her more than personal permission. Upon returning from the Astral Plane, Tasha gained the ability to tear open others' blind spots.
"It was not always thus," Miranda stated with certainty. "Three hundred years ago, dragons could still depart; The last White Tower Master recorded that druids and elves' 'journeys' were not yet enigmas requiring study; the last documented astral witch perished two hundred and twelve years ago... All signs point to the knowledge of the Astral Plane not always being a blank slate. Like the vanished magical creatures, knowledge and records of the Astral Plane have mysteriously disappeared over these centuries."