Chapter 194
The villagers cleared the way as if sensing danger when they saw the holy knights.
The holy knight escort led the way, and Silveryn followed behind. Robert Face, the scholar of magic swords, looked tired even though only two days had passed since they set out for the Holy City.
Silveryn frowned as she looked at his face while riding her horse beside him.
It wasn't just simple fatigue. His complexion was pale, and he was sweating profusely. He was startled easily and showed sensitive reactions to trivial things.
These were signs of suffering from dark magic. She had anticipated this would happen, but the dark magic manifested a bit earlier than expected. Perhaps the dark mage had predicted he would receive a summons from the Holy City and set a trigger.
Silveryn looked at him and said, "How long can you endure?"
"I don't know. The dreams... I can't sleep at all because of the dreams."
"If it's alright, can you tell me what dreams you've been having now?"
Robert Face hesitated, his lips quivering. He was afraid.
"That... that."
"We need to know what difficulties you're experiencing."
After pondering for a while, he finally spoke, "Alright. I had a family. In last night's dream, I met my family."
"Hmm, I didn't know you had a family."
"I don't anymore. My wife was human, and all our children were adopted. They've all been dead for over a decade."
"And?"
"My family in the dream was as vivid as if I were seeing them right before my eyes. Their soft skin, voices, gazes. It felt like I had traveled back in time to meet them again. It was such a warm and nostalgic scene that I didn't want to wake up. I would have given everything to experience that happy moment again."
"..."
"But suddenly, an unidentified man appeared in my dream. He invaded my house and dragged my family members by their hair into the living room. That young man with blue hair pulled out my family members and butchered them one by one with a knife. He started with my wife, gouging out her eyes and tongue... then sliced open her belly and pulled out all her intestines."
Robert Face clenched his jaw, his lips trembling, and continued, "My wife called out my name, screaming for help. And then my children too... I screamed at the top of my lungs, but I couldn't do anything. My body was frozen as if paralyzed. It was... it was..."
"You can stop there. I can somewhat guess what it was like."
He suddenly burst into tears mid-sentence. He was completely mentally drained.
"Do, do you know what this is?"
It was one of the ways dark mages toyed with intelligent life forms.
"If there were no other symptoms, it might be a 'Dream Walker'."
"Is that a dark mage too?"
"No, they're closer to a peculiar type of mage rather than dark mages. They might have approached you under the direction of a dark mage."
“Dream Walkers” were also a type of mage.
Some of those with abundant magical talent who lived their entire lives as vegetative patients develop special abilities that other mages didn't possess. That ability was to enter people's dreams.
To humans ignorant of magic, these beings were known as succubi or incubi.
"It might be fortunate if they're 'Dream Walkers'. They can't directly harm you."
"But... that terrible dream..."
"It's probably your own fear response that summoned it. 'Dream Walkers' only guide you to draw out memories, they can't control everything. Were there any other symptoms besides that?"
He hesitated for a moment before speaking, "In the dream, that man finally approached me and thrust the Screaming Sword into my belly."
"...And then?"
"And then... I woke up in the morning..."
With trembling hands, he untied his robe, opened it, and lifted his shirt to reveal his bare abdomen.
There was a vertical blue scar from his solar plexus to his lower abdomen.
Seeing this, Silveryn's expression became serious.
"Did it appear suddenly in the morning?"
"Yes."
"Let's forget about the 'Dream Walker' story."
"..."
While research on dark magic was active, there were almost no proper materials left in the world. More accurately, it would be correct to say they had been lost.
Therefore, there were no well-established methods to counter dark magic.
There were very few dark magic historical materials preserved in this world. The few that remained were sleeping beneath unknown territories beyond the Northern Land of Death.
The curse Robert Face bore was also a type Silveryn had never seen before.
It was a situation where she couldn't guarantee he would survive until they reached the Holy City.
Having finished her calculations, she let go of the reins for a moment and took out a parchment from her bosom. Then she blew on her fingertips and quickly began writing letters with her nails.
She quickly wrote down Robert Face's symptoms and sent it flying into the sky with a Stitch.
Robert Face looked up at the stitch and said, "Did you send it to the Holy City?"
"No."
She didn't expect to get a proper solution, but it was the group with the most potential in this world.
The Land of Death where no living creature could survive. And there was only one group in this world that explored that place.
It was Eternia's elite unit, the Nameless Knights Order.
***
I was walking in the fog. A flat gravel path with no undulations. Every time I breathed in, I could smell a faint fishy scent.
In there, I was being led forward by something unknown.
I didn't know where this place was, nor where I was heading.
I didn't know what was ahead either.
Soon, I reached a lakeshore that was dyed dark gray as if ash had been sprinkled on it.
I was momentarily enveloped by a strange sense of déjà vu. I suddenly stood at the edge of the lakeshore and bent down.
And I looked at the figure reflected in the water.
There was someone else there, not my reflection.
It was a young man with clear eyes and blue-tinged hair.
Seeing his appearance, I realized that all of this was a dream.
These were scenes I had encountered in a dream a few days ago. The difference was that the man in front of me then looked like a corpse, but now he looked just like a living person.
The man reached out with a dazed gaze, trying to touch my face. But the water only rippled slightly, having no effect on the world I was in.
I took no action and remained still. When the water calmed again, the man's face appeared.
He moved his lips, looking at me.
[Why can't I catch you...]
And before the sentence was completed, I woke up from the dream.
Thorn Garden dormitory. The dim ceiling of my room comes into view. Faint moonlight scattered by fog seeps through the gaps in the curtains. It was still far from morning.
My head hurt and my body felt heavy as if I had done hard labor. And my right hand felt stuffy as if the blood wasn't circulating.
When I lifted my hand, something came along with it. It was someone else's arm.
My hand was interlocked with someone's fingers.
When I turned my head to the side, I saw someone's head lying on the edge of the bed. Long, flowing silver hair. It was faintly glowing in the dim moonlight.
Someone was lying face down on my bed, using it as a pillow.
Perhaps sensing my movement, the woman stirred and slowly raised her head.
And she looked at my face in the darkness.
"Trisha...?"
The woman seemed startled, unlocked her fingers, and got up. Then she ran out the door without a word.
When the woman left, suddenly an unbearable extreme fatigue washed over me. I couldn't even think of moving anymore and fell asleep again.
***
Morning came, and I got up with a hazy mind. Then I recalled the events of the previous dawn. The memory of what dream I had was blurry, and the image of someone lying next to the bed was also blurry.
Something was stepped on under my foot. Now I see that the floor was strewn with parchments as if a thief had ransacked the place.
I picked up one to check its identity. These were all theater scripts.
It seemed Trisha did something in my room while I was asleep last night.
"..."
I gathered the scripts, tidied them up, and headed to the kitchen. Judging by the quiet second floor, it seemed Trisha hadn't woken up yet.
I lit the fire in the hearth and put water in a pot. I placed leftover bread from yesterday on a plate and put fruits and honey in the pot to make jam.
While preparing breakfast like this, Trisha entered the kitchen dragging a pillow, looking like a disheveled Azelis.
"Damian..."
She rubbed her eyes and climbed onto the table where food should be placed, spread her pillow, and tried to take a nap.
"Get down. It'll be ready soon."
She curled up her body, tucking her knees into her nightgown skirt.
"...Carry me."
"And what were you doing in my room at night?"
At that, Trisha's eyes flew open as if cold water had been poured on her. She rolled her eyes in panic and rambled.
"I, I, at night, I practiced the script for a bit...!"
"Why practice in my room?"
"I can't concentrate without a counterpart!"
Trisha got up and added hesitantly, "How... was it noisy by any chance?"
Come to think of it, I had promised to help with script reading practice before going to Barbisia. I had forgotten and hadn't kept that promise. I felt sorry for Trisha, who must have read the script in front of me while I was sound asleep.
"No, it's fine, but next time do it when I'm awake. I'll help you, so don't fall asleep in strange places."
Trisha blinked a few times and then answered as if she was pleased, "Really?"
"Yes."
"Okay! I'll go get the script from my room first!"
Trisha seemed to be energized and ran out of the kitchen, making a clattering noise.
I stopped cooking and watched her retreating figure. Suddenly, I remembered the figure that had run out of my room last night.
Is it because she had changed her nightgown? Or am I too used to Trisha's disguised appearance?
That figure from last night felt somewhat different from the current Trisha.
My consciousness was hazy then, so I couldn't remember properly. Perhaps the moment I woke up briefly was also a dream.
***
Before the dawn had fully dissipated, I left the maze and headed toward the Guardian Tree for my first class.
Then I heard a sound like something cutting through the wind from somewhere.
Soon after, a Stitch flew laboriously towards me from the sky in the clearing near the Guardian Tree.
That Stitch was carrying a pouch in its feet that looked quite heavy compared to its own size.
The unidentified Stitch dropped the pouch in front of me and flew off into the sky with its lightened body.
"...?"
I picked up the pouch and checked its contents. It was filled with enough gold coins to fill a handful. And I found a letter enclosed inside.
I immediately took it out and checked. The letter bore a signature I had seen before. It was the signature of Geshin Grig, the Sword Master who had reached the pinnacle in swordsmanship and Sion's teacher.
"...!"
Sensing something ominous, I immediately took out a dagger and threw it at the retreating Stitch.
But that Stitch, as expected of something belonging to the Sword Master, nimbly avoided the attack and leisurely flew away. Its trajectory seemed to be waving a finger at me as if to say there was no chance of returning it.
"...Ah."