Chapter 3: Twilight Passage

Chapter 3: Twilight Passage

“Error”… Bug… So this is the essence of the Marauder pathway? While Klein felt a degree of understanding, he also confirmed one matter.

That was: the ancient Sun God, the Creator of the City of Silver, Amon’s father, truly came from Earth.

The word Amon had just uttered was standard English!

Old fellow townsman, your two children have put me through absolute misery… If only they were both like Bernadette… As Klein inwardly lampooned, he asked with considerable curiosity, “Are you going to use a loophole in this dream world?”

Klein controlled himself and did not use the word “bug,” lest a too-normal pronunciation arouse Amon’s suspicion and expose one of his few trump cards for nothing.

Facing this King of Angels, who could steal his thoughts and deeply parasitize him, Klein’s trump cards were already few and far between. Each one had to be used well. Perhaps at some crucial moment, one might produce an unexpected effect.

By then, Amon had already reached the outside of the black monastery.

With one hand in His pocket, He made no movement at all, yet the heavy doors opened by themselves, as though welcoming an honored guest.

“You can understand it that way, but in reality, it is a little more complicated,” Amon answered Klein’s question casually, showing none of the dignity one might expect from the Blasphemer. “This dream world itself has no errors—no loopholes, one might say. It is only that, because various remnants of divine power conflict with one another, certain places appear rather chaotic. And I can make use of that chaos to create a loophole.”

As the towering main doors prepared for giants opened fully, Amon pinched the monocle He wore and walked forward through the hall, deeper into the interior.

During that process, He explained further with a smile.

“You should know very well that this monastery is pieced together from one dream after another.”

“Mm. Dreams belonging to different creatures in the Ruins of the Battle of Gods.” Klein thought for a moment and added, “They may also be remnants of certain dreams from the past.”

At that moment, a human and an angel were walking down a winding black staircase. Twilight shone in from stained-glass windows high above, bringing a fiery sacredness with it.

Amon stroked the human-skull reliefs on the handrail, smiling as He admired everything around Him.

“Under normal circumstances, wherever you enter this dream world from, that is where you will wake when you leave, no matter whether you are currently inside some other creature’s dream in another sea region.”

Klein could not nod, so he could only express agreement through words.

“Correct.”

“And after I create a loophole, I can wake at the corresponding location by entering another dream. Clearly, this monastery is far smaller than the ruined ocean outside, and its structure is more compact. Perhaps in only a few minutes, we can arrive at our destination.” Amon’s tone carried a touch of delight.

To Him, creating and exploiting loopholes seemed to be something joyful in itself.

…This… Amon can actually use such a method to quickly pass through the Ruins of the Battle of Gods. Forget one or two weeks—even one or two hours won’t be wasted… As expected of a King of Angels, the Blasphemer of the Fourth Epoch… The faint hope Klein had just produced instantly dissolved into nothing.

He did not know whether Amon had deliberately refrained from explaining earlier, enjoying the process of watching bubbles of hope rise in his target only to be pricked one by one, or whether He simply did not care about such trivial matters. All Klein could do was restrain his intense dejection and say, “You are going to the key dream that supports this illusory world?”

He remembered that the Queen of Mysteries Bernadette had mentioned that even she did not dare enter behind the black wooden door at the deepest part of the monastery.

“Not I. We.” Amon answered with a smile.

He seemed to suddenly recall something. Raising His hand, He adjusted the position of His monocle and asked with great interest, “Why did you put a monocle on your marionette?

“That saved me the need to prepare one myself.”

“…” Klein was awkward for one second and thought for another before deciding to answer honestly. “Not long ago, to digest the Bizarro Sorcerer potion, I deliberately put on that monocle in front of the Red Angel evil spirit.”

Amon, who had been walking down the staircase step by step, suddenly stopped and turned His head to look at Klein. A smile slowly appeared on His face.

“Very creative.”

This Angel of Time then said thoughtfully, “That fellow Medici still hasn’t died completely. Next time, if I run into Him, I’ll turn into you and put on a monocle in front of Him again.”

…Poor Sauron Einhorn Medici… You are a complete King of Angels. Do you really need to be this bored? Is this what they call the God of Mischief? Klein felt deeply moved for a moment, to the point that he did not know what to say.

Amon pressed the monocle carved from crystal and then asked, “At the time, did you wear the monocle over your left eye?”

“How did you know?” Klein was startled, almost believing Amon had stolen that scene from the fog of history.

“How did I know?” Amon said with a smile. “There are two possibilities. First, because your Sequence was low, and you were definitely no match for that fellow Medici, you would have been afraid of pretending too realistically and provoking a fatal instinctive attack, so I inferred it. Second, if you intended to imitate me and completed the correct imitation, perhaps I could have sensed it through the ripples created in fate. Since I did not notice anything, that means the monocle was worn in the wrong position.

“Guess which possibility it was.”

…I’ll choose the most dangerous one, whether it is true or false… That way, I will be even more careful and cautious when encountering similar matters in the future… Of course, the first thing is whether there is a future at all… Because Amon had not acted vicious or oppressive earlier, Klein had unconsciously relaxed his guard slightly, feeling that this King of Angels was almost easy to get along with. But now he abruptly became alert again, understanding that this was precisely a top-tier swindler’s trait!

“The second possibility,” Klein gave his answer.

Amon did not say whether he had guessed correctly. He finished descending the staircase, arrived at the bottom of the monastery, and stopped before a black wooden door covered in strange patterns.

“I’ve been here before. Once this door is fully opened, the power inside will shatter the entire dream world.” Klein took the initiative to speak, trying to draw more hidden history out of Amon.

Amon reached out and gripped the handle. His thin face showed little expression as He twisted it open and spoke.

“This is my father’s final dream, corresponding to the place where He fell.”

…The Ruins of the Battle of Gods are the battlefield where Rose of Redemption besieged the ancient Sun God—the origin point of the Cataclysm? Klein’s mind tightened, thoughts surging.

After understanding Rose of Redemption’s composition and comparing it with the abnormalities within the Ruins of the Battle of Gods, he had already formed the corresponding guess regarding this answer. Therefore, he was not too shocked now. Instead, his Scholar of Yore potion digested to a certain extent.

Immediately afterward, an indescribable sigh rose within him.

This was the closest he had ever been to the ancient Sun God.

Previously, when he had seen Him through Dream Divination, vast time and space had lain between them.

The ancient Sun God and Emperor Roselle were both protagonists of their respective eras, yet both ultimately ended in darkness, their fates tragic… Roselle still left behind means of resurrection. I wonder whether this former Creator made similar arrangements… Dark Angel Sasrir? The True Creator? As Klein’s thoughts scattered, Amon opened the black wooden door covered in strange patterns.

Inside was an ocean, directly illuminated by dazzling sunlight. Hidden within its waves seemed to be large swaths of concentrated gold.

When Klein had been here last time, he had not understood what those large swaths of gold represented. Now, he had a preliminary idea.

That was the blood of the ancient Sun God!

Before His death, He was affected by the power of Evernight and fell into a dream, dreaming of Himself splitting into pieces, His blood dyeing the sea.

Clang!

As the black wooden door opened, an unimaginably powerful aura seeped out, making the entire monastery shake violently, as though it had encountered an earthquake capable of destroying this world.

Amid falling dust and collapsing stone bricks, Amon and Klein passed through the wooden door and entered that golden sea.

Klein immediately felt his spirit body melting and his mind evaporating. In only a few seconds, he would become nourishment for this dream.

At that moment, pure white radiance burst from Amon’s crystal monocle, instantly shattering the dream world.

He returned the stolen daylight to the Ruins of the Battle of Gods, causing this place to transition from night into day in a single instant!

At the same time, His and Klein’s figures turned somewhat transparent. Then they directly appeared in the air above a sea dyed golden.

Here, the heat exceeded Klein’s imagination, but it was not as dangerous as in the dream.

Or rather, the sea at the core of the Ruins of the Battle of Gods had been divided into safe zones by conflicts between various divine powers. As long as one did not explore blindly, there would be no major problem.

The next second, Amon’s monocle again absorbed all the surrounding light, making itself extremely bright.

Daylight was stolen, night descended once more, and after Amon and Klein landed on an island within a safe zone, they once again entered the dream world.

This time, they appeared outside the black wooden door covered in strange patterns.

Amon adjusted the monocle over His right eye. With a gentle pull of His left hand, He stole the distance between this place and the monastery entrance.

He and Klein took a step forward at the same time, leaving the monastery and arriving at the cliff’s edge. Across from them was the Giant King’s Court projection frozen in twilight.

Klein had thought Amon would next follow the proper procedure and recite the corresponding honorific name, but who could have known that He merely lifted His right hand and snapped His fingers.

The sea of clouds separating the two peaks instantly boiled, splitting to both sides and revealing a dark crevice whose bottom could not be seen.

The Giant King’s Court projection opposite them abruptly absorbed all the twilight radiance, sending it surging forward to fill that deep fissure.

Thus, between the two mountains, amid the floating sea of clouds, a road of orange-red light appeared.

“Let’s go.” Amon chuckled and leaped forward off the cliff, falling toward the passage formed from twilight as His clothes flapped in the wind.

Klein could not resist. He could only follow, jumping from the cliff.