Chapter 77: Weaving a Nightmare

Chapter 77: Weaving a Nightmare

I really returned to Utopia just like that… Seeing the scene outside, Wendel inexplicably felt a little relieved and relaxed. He no longer had any doubts about his choice to appear in court and testify.

One had to know that the place he had just been in was the washroom inside MI9 headquarters. Even a fully armed army should have had no chance of breaking in.

Slowly exhaling, Wendel walked out of the washroom and headed toward the entrance of the hall.

Behind him, in an unnoticed corner of the washroom, the pitch-black crow draped itself in a gauze like shadow and lost all sense of solid existence. Even if one looked straight at it, it would be difficult to discover it.

Then its body grew increasingly transparent, swiftly dissipating until it vanished completely.

By then, Wendel had already walked several meters into the hall and saw a policeman in a black-and-white checkered uniform enter through the doorway.

It was none other than the young officer Byers, who had invited him to testify in court.

“I knew you would definitely come, because you are a kind person.” Byers smiled as he walked toward Wendel.

Hearing that praise, Wendel’s heart finally settled back into place. Then, by instinct, he looked back and saw that the washroom he had come out of had changed appearance. It no longer felt familiar to him.

…

Inside the dream labyrinth pieced together from many minds, the enormous white rabbit walking upright forcefully squeezed through the open doorway and entered the wilderness where grayish-white pillars towered and magnificent palaces stood.

Mr. Wrath… Although the other party was not wearing that personality mask, the unforgettable features still allowed Audrey to recognize who it was at a glance.

This was somewhat beyond her expectations, yet it did not make her feel especially surprised.

In her view, to deal with Ariehogg, that ancient mind dragon, relying on Mr. Wrath alone should not be enough, even though Mr. Fool had once reminded her to beware of him.

After all, the behind-the-scenes leader of the Psychology Alchemists, the former King of Angels, had already become a Sequence 0 true god. According to the knowledge shared within the Tarot Club, there should not and could not be another Author in the real world. In that case, no matter how powerful Mr. Wrath was, as long as he was still within the Spectator pathway, he would at most be at the same level as Ariehogg, differing only in combat experience, research into the psyche, and self-cultivation.

At that moment, as the giant rabbit entered, Ariehogg, whose enormous scales were grayish-white, opened His membrane-covered wings with a rustle, instantly casting a shadow over the surrounding area.

The white rabbit pushed off with both feet and abruptly became extremely large, like a small hill.

At the same time, directly above Him, the dim sky suddenly brightened, while beneath His feet, the ground split into crack after crack and gushed out crimson magma.

Immediately afterward, a blurry and distorted figure appeared behind Him.

The figure wore a simple white robe. His appearance was difficult to see clearly, and His age could not be distinguished. One could only vaguely tell that He was male.

Behind His head hung a halo radiating brilliant light, like a miniature sun. Beneath His feet was an illusory clock divided into twelve sections, each section containing symbols representing different times. Behind Him hung a shadow like a curtain, and within that shadow, there seemed to be an eye silently peering outward.

This figure had only just formed an outline, yet the entire dream labyrinth began shaking violently, and grayish fragments kept falling from the void.

Two completely opposite sensations—filthy depravity and pure sunlight—swiftly spread around the giant white rabbit, corroding or assimilating this region.

However, the figure in the simple white robe was always unable to truly take shape, unable to walk from history and illusion into reality.

Whenever His outline was about to become clear, His figure twisted, like a machine whose signal had been interfered with.

At this moment, Audrey instinctively withdrew her gaze, not daring to look directly toward the giant white rabbit any longer.

Perhaps because she was inside a dream, closely connected to the islands of the mind and the sea of collective subconsciousness, she needed no one to explain. She intuitively understood what Mr. Wrath was doing.

He had perceived Ariehogg’s hidden psychological problem. He knew what this ancient dragon feared most, and on that basis, he had woven a nightmare containing a concrete image.

In battles between high-Sequence Beyonders of the Spectator pathway, if both sides were at the same level, all sorts of methods had great difficulty producing real results. One could infiltrate the island of consciousness and conduct deep hypnosis, while the other could guard the door of the mind body, refusing entry to any foreign consciousness. One could spread a mental plague, using the sea of collective subconsciousness to imperceptibly erode the enemy, while the other could Soothe themselves, treat psychological illness, and preserve mental health.

Therefore, battles between Saints of the same Sequence along the Spectator pathway often showed three fixed styles. First, one set traps in advance, made every preparation, then secretly guided, advanced step by step, shattered the opponent’s mental defenses in one stroke, and completed hypnosis. Second, one focused on defense and support, relying on powerful Sealed Artifacts to defeat the enemy. Third, when Beyonder abilities such as Mental Plague, Mind Deprivation, Dragon Breath, and Consciousness Manipulation had difficulty affecting either side, one would hypnotize oneself, undergo Dragonification, and engage in an intense melee of claw against tail.

In that third form of combat, whoever had a deeper understanding of the mind domain and whose will was stronger and more resolute could rely on a longer Dragonification time to gain the advantage and accumulate momentum toward victory—of course, provided the other party did not seize an opportunity to escape.

At the angel level, however, both sides were true mythical creatures. The length of Dragonification no longer held meaning. At that point, what mattered most was Discernment. Whoever could better find the opponent’s psychological loophole could weave the corresponding nightmare, directly attacking the enemy’s weakest mental point, gradually destroying their mental defenses and achieving the effect of frightening them mad, or frightening them to death.

Because Audrey was inside the same “dream,” even though this nightmare was not aimed at her, she would still be affected, influenced by the corresponding emotions, traits, and level, even contaminated.

Just like now, she clearly knew that the nightmare Mr. Wrath had woven represented the ancient sun god, the existence Ariehogg feared most deep within His heart. At the same time, the influence of the ancient sun god would uncontrollably contaminate the surroundings until it affected the entire dream.

By then, when Audrey woke, she would either become a mental patient without the instinct for treatment, or transform into an incomplete mythical creature, completely losing reason and madly attacking the living beings around her.

Of course, there was another possibility: she would fall without any self-awareness, becoming cold, cruel, and bloodthirsty without noticing, as if replaced by another person.

At that moment, Ariehogg, crouched atop the grayish-white stone pillar, let out a roar of pain.

As the dragon’s roar echoed, the space above His head became dim, and there appeared an “ocean” that contained all colors and all secrets, impossible to describe in words.

Within the ocean, a grayish-white dragon hundreds or thousands of meters long—or perhaps even larger—rose into the air. Of His vertical pupils, one was pale gold and one was scarlet.

This giant dragon also had a third eye on His forehead, within which rich shadows seemed to be hidden.

Likewise, without needing anyone to explain, Audrey, relying on the special nature of her current state, immediately understood what the nightmare Ariehogg had woven represented.

It was the thing that had left a deep shadow in the giant white rabbit’s heart. It was Ankewelt after being corroded by the “underground.” It was a virtual persona, a segment of mental corruption, separated from that ancient god and sealed behind the bronze door.

At this moment, Audrey stood between two nightmares so terrifying that they were beyond description. Although she had not yet suffered corrosion, her mental state had already begun fluctuating, as if she had been struck by awe and fear.

She immediately Soothed herself and, without hesitation, relied on her own lucidity to forcibly break away from the dream labyrinth.

During that process, because she was not the target of Ariehogg or Mr. Wrath, she encountered no obstruction. And since she herself had reached Sequence 4 and possessed a certain amount of divinity, she quickly awakened from the dream.

Audrey abruptly opened her eyes and saw the crystal chandelier dyed with faint crimson. She saw the deep night permeating the room.

Without delay, she flipped out of bed, rushed to the window, and looked outside.

The entire estate was quiet, as though asleep, without the slightest abnormality.

Audrey’s brows furrowed. She immediately separated out a virtual persona and had it enter the mental island of a night patrolman.

She remembered very clearly that the dream labyrinth had been pieced together from multiple minds. Once the corruption from the two nightmares spread, the consequences would be unimaginable.

Therefore, she had to awaken everyone in the estate before that happened.

The next second, the night patrol guard suddenly raised his hand, took the grenade hanging from his belt, pulled out the pin, and threw it into an empty part of the garden.

Boom!

A violent explosion spread outward, startling awake those who had been sleeping.

Immediately afterward, the guard opened his throat and shouted loudly,

“Enemy attack!”

“Enemy attack!”

Earl Hall and his wife were both over fifty, and their sleep was already shallow. They were instantly awakened. Hibbert, despite sleeping well, also groggily woke up before such an explosion. Alfred had automatically opened his eyes the moment the grenade was thrown.

The remaining butlers, maids, male servants, bodyguards, and members of the estate guard woke one after another, their expressions both blank and astonished, not knowing what had happened.

Yet in the place farthest from the estate’s main building, several servants had heard the commotion less clearly and failed to awaken in time.

Only a few seconds later, they struggled painfully in bed, shedding their outer layer of skin like snakes molting, becoming hideous blood-covered figures.

And until they died, they never woke.

At that moment, Audrey saw, within the sea of collective subconsciousness, a grayish-white dragon spread His wings and fly away at great speed, while a giant white rabbit followed closely behind.

In the blink of an eye, that dragon’s voice echoed through the illusory ocean:

“Adam is not necessarily Adam, just as I am not necessarily Ariehogg.”

The giant white rabbit’s figure abruptly slowed, then gradually stopped.

All abnormalities were interrupted, and the entire region returned to normal.

…

Above the gray fog, inside the ancient palace.

Adam did not act? The Fool Klein frowned slightly and shifted his attention back to Utopia, replacing the instinctive monitoring of the Worms of Spirit.

He carefully inspected his marionette town and found nothing abnormal.