Chapter 30: Different Effects

Chapter 30: Different Effects

The Forsaken Land of the Gods, deep at night, when lightning had already become extremely infrequent.

“Two slices of white bread with roast meat between them taste pretty good… And the sweet-and-sour drink that’s a specialty of the Fog Sea is better than I expected…” After Klein swallowed the last bite of food, he praised it sincerely and casually tossed the remaining packaging into the depths of darkness. In any case, this place had no concept of environmental protection, nor were there any trash cans.

Of course, he had already handled the connection between those objects and himself in advance, just as he now needed to go to Sefirah Castle for “disinfection” every time he abandoned a marionette, lest Amon’s avatars use that connection to lock onto his trail.

“Mm, lifeless objects won’t be turned Concealed by the darkness here…” Klein raised the lantern Danitz had sacrificed and shone it on the items he had just discarded.

After resolving the issue of food and warmth, he finally had the mind to attempt certain matters whose danger level he had already divined.

Amid the swaying dim yellow light, Klein reached forward with his right hand and dragged another version of himself out from the air.

It was him from the gaps of history, also holding a lantern.

The next second, Klein entered the gray-white fog, allowing his consciousness to “awaken” inside the projection he had summoned.

Surrounded by teams of monsters and wrapped in endless darkness, this projection opened its mouth, intending to pronounce the name Amanises:

“…”

He could not produce any sound. The words he wanted to say seemed to have been Concealed.

“As expected. This matches my conjecture.” Klein, wearing a half top hat and black knee-length trench coat, slowly exhaled.

Glancing at the lantern emitting dim yellow light, he suddenly recited in Jotun in a deep voice:

“Leodero!”

Before his voice had fully faded, hundreds of lightning bolts descended like a response to a summons, twisting and intertwining with one another as they instantly covered the entire area.

Klein had no time to dodge at all. Even if he swapped positions with a marionette, he was still within the attack range.

Amid the dazzling silver-white radiance, he collapsed on the spot. His body turned blackened, convulsing violently, as though he had become a giant piece of coal.

Then his figure rapidly disintegrated, vanishing like an illusion.

Klein, wearing a real hat, an Intis-style trench coat, and carrying a simple lantern, immediately “returned” to reality and continued walking as though nothing had happened.

After walking for a while, his figure suddenly blurred, then became clear again.

Immediately afterward, Klein opened his mouth once more and recited another name in Jotun:

“Au…”

He had only just uttered the first syllable when transparent flames burst from within his body, instantly burning him to ash and giving him no chance to swap positions with a marionette.

Klein’s figure reappeared. Pressing down his hat, he calmly continued walking across the hill covered in strange plants.

“Herabergen.”

…

“Badheil.”

…

“Omebella.”

…

“None of them produced anything abnormal. There is no corresponding residual divine power around the City of Silver…

“Medici, Ouroboros, Sasrir… Those are even more useless. They aren’t gods… I had thought Afternoon Town and the Giant King’s Court were special cases, and that using Sasrir’s true name outside could activate the power of Depravity in the Forsaken Land of the Gods… Red Angel was a King of Angels with a Uniqueness. That should count as half a true god. Yet He didn’t leave even the slightest trace. How embarrassing—not for a human, but for a King of Angels!” As his black trench coat fluttered slightly behind him, Klein descended the hill and, following his spiritual intuition, headed northwest toward the ruins of the city-state Nois.

From time to time, he took detours. From time to time, he used Flame Jump. He did not completely follow the route explored by the City of Silver toward the destination.

…

Backlund, deep night.

Audrey, sensing that her potion had digested a little further, was extremely proactive in using Dream Traversal. Leaving her family’s mansion, she entered various dreams in the surrounding area.

Knowing what the current situation was like, she possessed an intense longing to become a demigod.

As she Traversed like this, she suddenly saw someone she knew.

This was a noblewoman with whom she had a fairly good relationship. She was twenty-nine years old, had married the year before last, and had wed a viscount.

At that moment, rose petals constantly drifted through this lady’s room. The bed was pure white, and upon it lay a pair of heart-shaped rings. From the window came knocking sounds: knock, knock, knock.

The lady’s cheeks were flushed, and she walked quickly toward it, opening the window.

A man wearing a black iron mask and a dark cloak leaped inside, embraced the lady, and told her in a low voice, “I will take you away from pain.”

Then the two began entangling in various ways, rolling all the way onto the bed.

As a Dreamwalker working hard to digest her potion, Audrey had long since seen similar scenes. She had passed through the stage of shyness and had sighed more than once over how rich, colorful, and imaginative everyone’s dreams truly were. At that moment, she did not lose composure in the least. She maintained the etiquette an Audience should have, as though witnessing an overly passionate play.

After briefly examining it, she discovered one problem:

The man wearing the black iron mask was not the lady’s spouse. He looked more like some playboy from noble circles.

“This is a reflection of a hidden thought within her heart?” Audrey muttered to herself with the academic attitude of dream analysis.

Then, with considerable curiosity, she Traversed into the neighboring dream.

It corresponded to the noblewoman’s husband, a viscount.

In the dream, the viscount was busy participating in discussions in the House of Lords. Then he was chased by an earl carrying a revolver, for the reason that he had seduced the other party’s daughter.

After escaping to safety, the viscount found his female secretary and vented the fear he had just felt.

Audrey could not help exiting the dream to see what state the viscount and his wife were in within reality.

Inside the bedroom illuminated by crimson moonlight, on that pure white bed, the viscount held his wife, and his wife was wrapped around him. They slept very intimately.

“Mm. It must be recognized that everyone has a dark side. If people are convicted merely because of the dreams they have or the thoughts that flash through their minds in an instant, everyone would fall into hell and no one would be spared—including myself… For most people, being able to control their dark side and forever keep it from entering reality can already be considered very good…” Audrey increasingly felt that acting as a Dreamwalker was a repeated interrogation and tempering of her own heart.

She once again entered dreams and Traversed toward other regions.

Before long, she arrived inside a warm “room.”

It was covered in thick carpet and contained a dining table. At the head of the table sat an old woman whose hair had turned white.

On both sides of her were a middle-aged man and woman and three children who had not yet reached adulthood. Under the candlelight, everyone enjoyed fine food, spoke and laughed, and seemed very happy.

Outside the room, darkness was deep. The wind made the glass rattle, brewing the terrifying feeling of disaster before its arrival.

“What is the owner of this dream worried about and afraid of?” Audrey withdrew from the dream, attempting to find the answer in reality and verify her guess.

She then saw a small bed and the old woman with white hair.

On the old woman’s bedside cabinet were frame after frame of photographs. Some were wound with black cloth, some bound with white flowers. They respectively showed a middle-aged couple and three underage children.

Audrey silently turned her head toward the window and saw the ruins left behind by bombing near this house.

The noble young lady pursed her lips, then abruptly returned to the old woman’s dream.

She did not stop the disaster that might descend. She merely manifested a chair, sat to the side, and carefully, attentively watched that happy, warm family.

Amid the howling wind and the rattling glass, the room was bright with lamplight, fragrant with food, and filled with laughter.

Among the acting principles Audrey had summarized for Dreamwalker, one was:

“A traveler of dreams has come, has seen, records but does not interfere. She is only an Audience.”

…

Inside Saint Samuel Cathedral, Leonard had been summoned by Archbishop Anthony Stevenson. Following the spiral staircase, he ascended step by step amid sunlight shining through stained glass.

Suddenly, he lowered his voice.

“Old Man, that secret gathering is going to open again. Do you really plan to try entering the treasure left behind by the Jacob family at the end of the month?”

“Not certain yet, but this is an opportunity. At the very least, Amon’s main body is currently tangled up with matters regarding Sefirah Castle and will not suddenly appear.” Inside Leonard’s mind, Pallez Zoroast answered in a somewhat low, hoarse voice. “However, I am now more inclined to reveal the news of the treasure and let the people in that gathering take the risk and explore on their own, while we stand guard nearby, observe the situation, and extract the things we need from their hands.”

Leonard froze, then said quietly, “Old Man, isn’t that a little too sinister?”

That was treating the members of the Hermits of Fate as tools for stepping on traps.

“Heh. Naive. Childish. You can tell them all the details and let them decide for themselves whether to go.” Pallez Zoroast sneered.

Leonard did not mention that matter again and instead asked, “Old Man, when can I become a demigod?”

Pallez laughed.

“If you can obtain a spirit at the level of your former colleague’s messenger, you should be able to finish digesting your potion early next year. But, heh heh, you should still follow the key points I mentioned and act deeply. By the second half of next year, you should have the qualifications to attempt Sequence 4. Of course, whether the Evernight Church will give you the potion and help you hold the ritual, I do not know. Wasn’t that senior deacon called Crestet Cesimir also forced to wait for many years, and only truly became a demigod after full-scale war broke out?”

Leonard nodded, then asked thoughtfully, “Old Man, could you act as a spirit and help me digest the potion?

“Your level should be higher than Klein’s messenger…”

Pallez Zoroast fell silent for several seconds, then gave a “heh.”

“Very creative.

“Why don’t I help you digest the potion instead?”

“How would you help?” Leonard knew the old man was mocking him, but he could not resist asking.

“Deeply parasitize you and completely control your body,” Pallez replied irritably.

As they spoke, Leonard arrived before the door of the Archbishop of the Backlund diocese.

He immediately closed his mouth, raised his right hand, and knocked: knock, knock.

“Come in.” Anthony Stevenson glanced at Leonard, who opened the door, and said, “The vampire behind Chanis Gate can be released.”