Category: This Necromancer Wants to Capture the Hearts of Deceased Beautiful Girls

Chapter 160: An Unfair Duel

Abyss stood up. “So, what are the rules of this duel?”

“I want to torment you, so we’ll do it the Hai-Teweru way—a duel,” the Lord of Nightmares said, his voice filled with a smug confidence. “Right here, in this realm. Use any method, any weapon you wish.”

“A duel? You’re adapting to local customs. How quaint,” Abyss said, raising an eyebrow.

Duels were common in Hai-Teweru. If two individuals had an irreconcilable conflict, they could request a duel, overseen by witnesses and sanctioned by local officials and the Church. It had been a common practice in the past, although less so now, with more “civilized” methods of resolving disputes.

“Hmm? You don’t think I’ll duel you fairly, do you?” the Lord of Nightmares chuckled. “I’m afraid you won’t be able to use any of your abilities within my domain.”

Before Abyss could reply, the Lord of Nightmares, his form still a perfect replica of Abyss, began chanting a spell, his body becoming encased in bone armor, sharp spikes erupting from within.

Abyss frowned, attempting to cast a spell himself, but as the Lord of Nightmares had predicted, his magic was useless. This realm was devoid of mana, its energy manipulated by the Outer God.

The Lord of Nightmares, having abandoned his desire for Abyss’s fear, was now intent on unleashing his full fury, his pent-up rage from Abyss’s constant provocations and defiance.

This Outer God was not only easily angered, but also held grudges.

But no matter how much Abyss cursed him internally, his magic remained inert.

The Lord of Nightmares, his expression cold and mocking, watched as the bone spikes on his armor grew longer, his turquoise eyes fixated on Abyss, as if observing an insect about to be crushed.

Abyss tried channeling the power of the Lord of Submergence, then the Nine Gods, but his attempts were futile.

He couldn’t even access his own rudimentary Dou Qi. He wasn’t surprised. Within the Lord of Nightmares’ domain, his abilities were limited, his every move anticipated.

“Ah… This is troublesome,” Abyss sighed.

The Lord of Nightmares aimed a bone spike—now more of a spear—at Abyss and launched it.

Whoosh!

The bone spear flew towards him with incredible speed, Abyss barely dodging it, its trajectory taking it far beyond them, disappearing into the darkness.

Abyss, his body twisted at an awkward angle, couldn’t change his position, his movements restricted.

“You haven’t given up yet?” the Lord of Nightmares asked, tilting his head, his voice filled with amusement. “You still think you can escape? Don’t you realize it’s futile?”

“I believe I still have a chance,” Abyss said, his gaze fixed on the Lord of Nightmares, his body tense, despite his seemingly hopeless situation.

“Is that so?” the Lord of Nightmares chuckled, reaching out towards Abyss.

This time, there was no escape. An invisible force gripped him, holding him fast.

Abyss, unable to move, forced a smile. “Alright, you’ve caught me. What now?”

“I will use my divine power to plunge you into an eternal slumber—falling asleep in this dream means death in reality,” the Lord of Nightmares said, his voice filled with a condescending arrogance. “This is our last conversation. Farewell.”

“Wait! There’s something I need to tell you!” Abyss shouted.

The Lord of Nightmares frowned, observing him for a moment.

“I’m not listening.”

A powerful force surged into Abyss’s mind, shattering his consciousness, his thoughts dissolving into a overwhelming desire for sleep, an eternal slumber…

…

Abyss drifted through a sea of memories: his master teaching him the ancient language, using a tombstone as a blackboard; his first dissection, chatting with the soul of the deceased; discovering the Shadow Realm and conducting his first experiment within its confines; his visit to the Divine Realm, searching for the gods’ restrooms; his promise to Flora, pulling her from the depths of despair; holding Leona’s hand, listening to her drunken confessions; comforting Rebecca as she recounted her darkest memories…

These scenes, these voices, so vivid, so real. His life had been short, his memories few. The procession of memories reached its end.

“Ah… I remember now… My last act in the dream… I hugged them…”

He could no longer speak. These were his last thoughts.

“I wish… I could hug the real them…”

Hum…

His memories fading, he opened his eyes, finding himself in a beautiful meadow, its grass lush and green, wildflowers blooming, the sky a clear, vibrant blue, a gentle breeze caressing his face. A soft, ethereal mist enveloped everything, making it seem like a dream.

Abyss, momentarily disoriented, sat down. “So this is the eternal dream? It’s not bad, just a bit quiet.”

He sat there for a while, quickly growing bored. He tried using his magic, but it was blocked, inert.

After another futile attempt to explore his surroundings, he opened his mouth and chanted a prayer, a melodious incantation.

It was a prayer to the Nine Gods, a Divine Art he had learned from Flora, a spell to awaken someone from a dream. He had asked her to teach him this spell after learning about the Lord of Nightmares’ ability to control dreams.

He still believed he had a chance…

Chapter 159: What the Lord of Nightmares Learned

As he spoke, Abyss transformed into a beam of light, vanishing instantly.

He was pure light, his movement too fast for any living creature to perceive, his destination known only to himself.

Upwards, towards the sun!

He felt himself break through some kind of barrier, then he stopped.

He was in a vast, empty darkness, the same place where he had encountered the Lord of Nightmares before. He couldn’t see anyone, but he knew the Outer God was here.

He couldn’t remember what had just happened, only that he had been awakened by the three girls. The rest was a blank. He suspected he had used some method to restore his energy, depleted by the Lord of Nightmares’ torment, then used the power of the twin goddesses, the former deities of Bystine, to break through this realm.

“…You continue to surprise me, Abyss.”

After a long silence, the Lord of Nightmares’ voice echoed from all directions, his tone now filled with genuine admiration, devoid of his usual mockery.

“You as well, Lord Schlezhech,” Abyss replied.

“Tell me, how did you know you had only escaped the second layer of the dream, not the dream itself? I don’t believe there were any flaws in my creation.”

The Lord of Nightmares’ voice was calm, almost serene, a stark contrast to his previous rage and frustration. He seemed to have reached some kind of understanding, his emotions now under control. But Abyss didn’t like this calmness. He preferred seeing this arrogant god lose his composure.

Yes, the realm Abyss had just escaped, using the Lord of Submergence’s power, was another layer of the dream, a deeper layer. By moving at the speed of light, the fastest speed possible in this universe, he had prevented the Lord of Nightmares from creating further layers of deception, causing the dream to collapse.

Abyss, his hands clasped behind his back, smiled. “I didn’t know at first. But your claim of perfection was your greatest flaw. I considered the possibility of you resorting to a final, desperate attack, but I dismissed it. A proud god like you wouldn’t stoop to such a level. It would be like a human trying to kill a bee that had stung them.”

“Indeed. It’s not because I’m incapable of defeating you,” the Lord of Nightmares said, his voice tinged with disdain. “Your power is insignificant compared to mine. Tell me, have you ever considered how you might defeat me?”

“I have, and I still do,” Abyss said, smiling. “I haven’t used my trump card yet.”

“Hmph, I didn’t see it in your dream. It must be some insignificant trick. You’ve been underestimating me from the start, haven’t you?”

“Star, Leona’s ancestor, once proposed a classic military strategy: underestimate the enemy strategically, but overestimate them tactically. I’ve adopted this principle in dealing with you.”

As he spoke, Abyss watched as something began to coalesce in the darkness before him.

He tilted his head. “Have you found the source of my fear? Is that why you can manifest before me now?”

The Lord of Nightmares didn’t answer immediately. The swirling mist solidified, taking on the form of a young man, dressed in a black cloak and cloth armor, his hair gray, his turquoise eyes cold and disdainful.

“Yes, I’ve found your greatest fear. It’s yourself,” the Lord of Nightmares said, his voice now identical to Abyss’s, his expression mirroring his own, appearing on the imposter’s face. “You’re afraid of becoming what you despise. It took me a while to discover this weakness, but now it’s irrelevant.”

“Why irrelevant? This is good, isn’t it? You don’t have to hide anymore. You don’t look like a coward now,” Abyss said.

The Lord of Nightmares’ lips twitched, his composure momentarily broken by Abyss’s taunt. “You can bark all you want, you pathetic, crippled dog. Your time is running out. Your reunion with your followers was your last. Prepare to say goodbye to them forever… Oh, right, they’ll turn to ash. I forgot they’re undead.”

Abyss, unfazed, sat down, his body finding support in the empty void. He knew the Lord of Nightmares wasn’t finished yet. He was waiting for the right moment to reveal his trump card.

“You seem quite calm,” the Lord of Nightmares said, observing him, his voice cold and mocking. “Honestly, I offered you a chance. If you had simply played along, I might have let you live in my dream forever. I wouldn’t have bothered you. You could have enjoyed an eternity of happiness with your followers. It wouldn’t be any different from reality. You could have continued your adventures, your conquests. I would have even created a fake Creator God for you to defeat… But you refused.”

“And then, when I reached the pinnacle of my happiness, you would have taken everything away from me, leaving me with nothing,” Abyss said, shaking his head. “I wouldn’t want that. You understand, don’t you?”

“Hahaha, indeed. I still crave the taste of your fear. I can’t resist the temptation,” the Lord of Nightmares said, his laughter echoing through the void, admitting the truth of Abyss’s words.

“So, how do you plan to harvest my fear now?” Abyss asked, his gaze fixed on the imposter, his own face staring back at him. “Are you going to create another dream, another endless loop of torment?”

“Hmm?” The Lord of Nightmares stopped laughing, his gaze now filled with pity. “I should thank you, Abyss. You’ve taught me the value of pragmatism. I won’t be consuming your fear. I’ll destroy you, then move on to another world, find someone easier to manipulate. Now that I’ve abandoned my desire for your fear, you will face my true power. You have no chance of winning.”

Chapter 158: Other Pressing Matters

“Eh?” Rebecca’s eyes lit up, a surprised smile spreading across her face. “A hug? Wait… not yet, Flora first… I-I’m a little flustered…”

She stood up and gently pushed Flora towards Abyss.

“Me?” Flora asked, blushing. “Why a hug? I don’t dislike it, but…”

Abyss looked at them, his turquoise eyes gentle and warm. “Because I feel like I owe you… I need to hug you all. Is that okay?” His gaze was clear, devoid of any lustful intent. A typical sixteen-year-old boy might have other thoughts, but Abyss’s desire was purely emotional, a need for connection with those he cherished.

Leona, after a moment of hesitation, replied, “Well… if you really need it, I suppose…”

Abyss didn’t hesitate. Now fully awake, his strength returned, he opened his arms and embraced Leona.

“Eek!” she squeaked, her body stiffening at his touch, then relaxing as his warmth enveloped her.

She was small and soft in his arms, her vulnerability stirring a protective instinct within him. She was a powerful Dou Warrior, but she was also a young woman who needed love and care, her heart still bearing the scars of her past.

He held her tightly, as if trying to merge her small form with his own. Leona, her body resilient, didn’t flinch. After a moment, she wrapped her arms around his waist.

“…I was so worried about you.”

“I know. Thank you.”

After a while, he released her, reluctantly.

Rebecca, still flustered, pushed Flora forward. “Hug Flora now. She took care of you while you were asleep. She’s a better nurse than those royal healers.”

Flora blushed, her beautiful golden eyes fixed on Abyss, her expression a mix of nervousness and anticipation. Her gaze was far more captivating than in the dream, mesmerizing him.

“Flora,” he said, smiling, taking her hands and pulling her into his embrace.

Her scent, sweet and floral, with a hint of something divine, was more intoxicating than any perfume, more comforting than any flower. He leaned his head against her shoulder, inhaling her fragrance.

His gesture, so intimate, made her blush even deeper, but she didn’t pull away. Instead, she closed her eyes, a tender smile on her face.

She gently stroked his hair, her touch light and soothing, as he relaxed in her arms.

“It’s alright now. Rest, Abyss. I’ll always be here for you,” she whispered, her voice like a gentle lullaby.

Abyss closed his eyes, enjoying her warmth and her comforting presence, his heart at peace in her embrace.

After a while, he released her, his own cheeks now slightly flushed, and gently smoothed her hair, which had become disheveled.

Rebecca, seeing him look at her, pointed at herself. “My turn?”

“Rebecca, come here,” Abyss said, opening his arms. “Let me hug you.”

“Well… heehee… Now I’m embarrassed…” Rebecca said, giggling, her shyness now more pronounced than the others’. She walked towards him, sat on the bed, and leaned into his embrace.

She wasn’t fat, but her body was softer, fuller than the others’, her ample bosom pressing against his chest.

He held her, his head resting on top of hers, his voice soft. “Thank you for trusting me, for supporting me, Rebecca.”

“You say that to all of us. You’re such a smooth talker,” she said, looking up at him. “If anyone saw you hugging us like this, they would think you’re a womanizer.”

“Perhaps, but I genuinely wanted to hug you all,” Abyss said. “This might sound strange, but I need you to heal me. It’s not complicated. Just being with you is enough.”

“Those dreams must have been painful,” Rebecca said, her voice softening. “I know that feeling… I used to have long, painful dreams as well.”

“They were, but being with you makes it better,” Abyss said.

“Can’t it be completely healed?” she asked, smiling.

“Well… no,” Abyss said, winking at her.

“Not even like this?” she asked, closing her eyes, her lips pouting slightly, as she leaned closer to his face.

“Perhaps another time,” Abyss said, releasing her.

“Hmph! I knew you wouldn’t kiss me!” she said, pouting, opening her eyes. Leona, who had been watching them intently, seemed relieved.

“That’s enough for now. Hugging you all has renewed my resolve. Thank you,” Abyss said, smiling at them.

“What’s next?” Rebecca asked, adjusting her clothes.

“You can relax. I have something important to do,” Abyss said.

“We can help,” Leona offered immediately.

Flora and Rebecca nodded in agreement.

“No, this is something I must do alone,” Abyss said, shaking his head, smiling.

“What is it? Why so secretive?” Leona asked, her curiosity growing.

Abyss didn’t answer. He opened his mouth and began chanting in a strange, complex language, unlike any known tongue, not a Divine incantation or a prayer to the Lord of Nightmares.

As he chanted, his body began to glow, the light growing brighter, his form becoming translucent.

He finally turned to them, his voice gentle. “I apologize, but there are others who need my embrace. Farewell, my dear followers. Thank you for everything.”

Chapter 157: Let Me Hug You

The dream shattered as Abyss’s consciousness flickered, plunging him into darkness. He wasn’t unconscious, but adrift in a void, the sounds of shattering and tearing echoing around him. His actions seemed to have triggered a chain reaction, causing the dream to collapse.

“What have you done?!” the Lord of Nightmares’ voice roared, his tone filled with shock and disbelief. “How did you break my dream?!”

“You can only blame your own desire to torment me, your decision to grant me limited control over my body!” Abyss said, laughing triumphantly. “It was a clever trick, but you underestimated me!”

The sounds of shattering continued, the Lord of Nightmares’ voice now laced with panic. “How did you do it?! How did you use your limited movement to achieve this?!”

“Your pride is your downfall. You underestimate the mortals of Hai-Teweru, and their magic. You never bothered to study it, did you?” Abyss asked, the sounds of the collapsing dream like a symphony to his ears. “During Leona’s knighting ceremony, that stone slab that displayed the inscription was made of a special material, a mana-conductive material that, due to its energy-absorbing properties, slowly shifts when exposed to uneven light.”

“So? The sunlight outside didn’t reach the slab…”

“But it did reach my armor!” Abyss interrupted. He had angered the Lord of Nightmares, and now, the Outer God’s rage had ignited his own. He no longer bothered with politeness. “My armor is reflective. And since my dream body regenerates with each cycle, its reflectivity is usually quite high. I used the reflected sunlight, manipulating my body to direct the light onto the slab, affecting the mana-conductive material. It didn’t work every time, since my position within the dream changed with each cycle. But your endless loop gave me the opportunity…”

“…How many times did you try?”

“Do you keep track of every morsel of fear you consume?” Abyss retorted. “I seized every opportunity. Finally, on the thirteen thousand four hundred and twenty-second attempt, I succeeded. I changed the inscription from ‘Knight of the Silver Rose’ to a series of runes, a Rage spell. It’s a signature spell of the Illusion School… Oh, I apologize, you wouldn’t know, since you never bothered to study it. But I must thank you for perfectly replicating Leona’s memories. The mage who infused the slab was a high-ranking mage, his mana pure and potent. This amplified the Rage spell, directly affecting Leona, who was kneeling before it…”

“And then… she couldn’t control her rage and killed you?”

“Ah, you finally understand,” Abyss said, clapping his hands. “Yes, a high-level Rage spell is difficult to resist, especially at such close range. Leona was instantly affected, and she lashed out, killing me. Your dream might be sophisticated, but its principle remains the same—it’s based on our subconscious minds. By disrupting the memory, by deviating from the script, I broke your dream!”

“Aren’t you afraid this dream will kill you in reality?”

“Honestly, I should be worried, but for certain reasons, I’m not… I’ll explain later. Farewell!”

The dream shattered, the last vestiges of the Lord of Nightmares’ power dissipating.

Abyss’s consciousness rose from the depths, distant voices growing louder, the darkness giving way to a faint pink glow filtering through his closed eyelids.

He opened his eyes.

“He’s awake!”

Three girls surrounded him, their faces filled with relief. It was Leona who had spoken.

He was lying in a bed, a hospital bed, the scent of antiseptic filling the air.

“Abyss, you’re finally awake!” Rebecca exclaimed, her hands cupping his face, her voice filled with concern. “We were so worried! We thought you would never wake up!”

Flora, her hand warm from having rubbed it vigorously, held his hand, offering him a comforting warmth, despite her undead nature.

“Ah, it’s you. It’s been a while,” Abyss said, smiling weakly.

“A while? How long were you trapped in that dream?” Leona asked.

“Help me sit up,” Abyss said to Rebecca, who gently assisted him.

“What kind of dream did the Lord of Nightmares show you?” Rebecca asked.

“You don’t need to know,” Abyss said, shaking his head. “I spent what felt like thousands of days in there. It wasn’t that long. I’m fine. I escaped on my own.”

“Thousands of days?” Flora asked, her voice filled with concern. “Are you sure you’re alright? Do you need any healing?”

“No, I’m fine,” Abyss said, waving his hand dismissively. “I’m more curious about how you escaped Kohler’s dream. He hypnotized us all.”

The three girls exchanged glances, then Rebecca explained. “After we fell asleep, Kohler’s body started to collapse. He couldn’t contain the power within him. After he died, we all woke up, including Givia. But you remained unconscious. We were so worried. You were asleep for three days, unresponsive. But we knew you weren’t completely gone. If you had been, we would have turned to ash. So we waited, hoping you would return…”

“Kohler is dead?” Abyss asked, looking at Rebecca.

“Yes, we have the Dream Shear. We’ve sealed it. The Lord of Nightmares has been completely banished from Hai-Teweru,” Rebecca said, smiling. “You were his last anchor in this world. Flora just confirmed it with her Divine Arts. This world is free from his influence.”

“Ah… That’s a shame. I wanted to capture him… But it’s alright. I’d like to hug you all now. Is that okay?”

Chapter 156: You’re Such a Fool

Despite the mental anguish, despite the seemingly inescapable trap, Abyss never despaired.

He had never tasted despair, and he wouldn’t give the Lord of Nightmares the satisfaction.

As the dream cycles continued, his mind grew weary, fleeting thoughts of surrender flashing through his consciousness, then vanishing just as quickly. Humans instinctively recoiled from insurmountable challenges, but Abyss, his hope unwavering, persevered.

Was this nightmare truly flawless? The Lord of Nightmares had devised this elaborate trap, employing every trick he knew, but couldn’t these very constraints be turned against him?

Abyss refused to believe he was truly helpless. Even if he were bound by chains, he would use those chains to smash the jailer’s skull!

The dream cycles continued, over three thousand iterations, the Lord of Nightmares’ taunts growing increasingly impatient. “Hmph, you’re quite resilient. Let’s see how long you can last.”

The four thousandth cycle…

“Give up, you fool. Your resistance is futile. I offer you one last chance, and one chance only—surrender to me, become my follower. What’s wrong with obeying me? Join me, and we’ll destroy this boring world together. All mortals are destined to die anyway. Why not indulge in a little chaos?”

The four thousand five hundredth cycle…

“Wake up. The existence of these worlds is meaningless. Your actions within them are meaningless. Why torture yourself? Are you content with this endless suffering?”

The four thousand seven hundredth cycle…

“Don’t get your hopes up. Do you think I need to constantly maintain these dreams? I’m simply waiting, waiting for you to admit your fear. You can waste your time here, but while you’re trapped, I’ll turn Hai-Teweru upside down. When you finally awaken, you’ll be alone in a lifeless world, the last living being, enjoying your eternal solitude. Of course, that’s assuming I don’t get bored and decide to end your existence.”

After that, the Lord of Nightmares fell silent. Abyss ignored his threats.

His actions were simple, repetitive: he tried to move his body, pushing against the dream’s constraints, testing its limits.

But regaining control wasn’t simply a matter of effort. The Lord of Nightmares had anticipated this. No matter how hard he tried, his range of motion remained limited. He couldn’t even speak.

After countless cycles, his mind weary, his body aching for rest, he yearned to surrender, to relinquish control, but he persisted, his movements within the three dreams his only act of defiance.

The Lord of Nightmares’ voice finally returned. “You haven’t surrendered yet? This is only the ten thousandth cycle. There are many more to come. Hey, listen, I’m willing to hear your thoughts now. Tell me, how are you feeling?” His voice was laced with mockery, as if he were barely containing his laughter, enjoying Abyss’s predicament.

“Hmm? I can actually talk to you now?” Abyss responded instantly, his mental voice filled with exhaustion.

“Hahahaha, of course! Thank me for my generosity! Now, tell me how you feel.”

“Schlezhech, you’re a fool. Perhaps the Creator God forgot to give you a brain? Oh, I apologize, perhaps he never intended to give you one. Your arrogance is amusing. If you had a physical form, I would turn your heart into a decorative trinket. So much bluster, so little power. You’re nothing but a pig’s gallbladder, discarded after being gnawed on by a two-headed ogre…”

“You bastard! You insect! You’ll regret this! You lowly mortal! You audacious fool!”

The Lord of Nightmares, enraged, instantly cut off their communication. He had clearly regretted giving Abyss the opportunity to speak. He wouldn’t make that mistake again.

Abyss, feeling a surge of energy after his outburst, continued his futile attempts to move his body within the dream.

Thanks to the Lord of Nightmares’ taunt, he had started counting again. The cycles continued, reaching the thirteen thousandth iteration…

“I, Leona Placidia Crepeus, swear to serve the Western Empire faithfully, as long as I live. If I break this oath, may I be stripped of my honor and spend my life atoning for my sins! I will uphold the eight virtues of a Western Empire knight…”

Leona’s hair was disheveled, her ceremonial dress faded and worn from thousands of repetitions. Her eyes were bloodshot, her skin pale and dry. She recited her oath, her voice hoarse and strained.

“Reveal the title I have bestowed upon Leona!”

The court mage, his hands skeletal, the flesh worn away by the endless cycles, began channeling his mana into the stone slab.

The inscription appeared, one character at a time.

Abyss, dressed in gleaming armor, his body swaying slightly, his face contorted in a sneer, muttered, “Disgusting. A filthy bastard receiving a knighthood. It’s an insult to this sacred honor…”

Leona turned to face him.

But this time, something was different.

Her expression wasn’t one of sadness, but of anger and resentment. She glared at Abyss, her eyes blazing, then, ignoring all decorum, stood up.

“Leona, what are you doing?” the Emperor asked, his voice stern.

Leona ignored him, her gaze fixed on Abyss.

Then, to everyone’s horror, she moved with blinding speed, a blur of motion, appearing before Abyss, grabbing him by the throat and slamming him to the ground.

Bam!

Abyss’s head hit the hard stone floor, a wave of dizziness washing over him.

Leona’s bloodshot eyes were filled with rage, resentment, disgust, and a hint of confusion.

Before Abyss could speak, she punched him in the face, crushing his skull, turning it into a bloody pulp.

Chapter 155: The Endless Dream Cycle

As the Lord of Nightmares had promised, this cycle was subtly different from the last.

Abyss was still the one wielding the alchemical device, burning the rival gang members, but their movements as they burned, the order in which the houses caught fire, even scorch marks on previously untouched buildings, were all different.

But Rebecca’s expression remained the same, her eyes filled with the same pain and regret. Abyss couldn’t comfort her, couldn’t even touch her, forced to watch her suffer in silence.

Then came Flora’s memory. He relived the experience of leading the Paladins to execute her, the order of their faces different, some replaced by unfamiliar ones. His sharp memory registered these changes. The Lord of Nightmares was exploiting this, subtly altering the dream with each cycle, keeping Abyss engaged, slowly breaking his spirit.

He noticed a book in the trash can—the copy of The Nine Gods Bless This World he had discarded earlier.

Leona’s memory followed. Abyss’s position in the crowd was different, his hurtful words slightly altered, but her reaction was the same, her gaze filled with the same sadness that pierced his heart.

He longed to comfort them, to hold them, to stroke their hair, but he couldn’t.

The dream cycle continued, each iteration subtly different, the changes accumulating, the atmosphere growing increasingly oppressive, the scenarios more disturbing. Abyss still had no control, his actions dictated by the dream.

He had never imagined that the Lord of Nightmares could fully possess a human follower. It seemed impossible. What trick had he used to bypass the local deities’ surveillance? Why had the Nine Gods allowed this Outer God to invade their world? Weren’t they concerned about the balance of power?

But he couldn’t ask the Lord of Nightmares directly. There was no communication between them. The Outer God would occasionally taunt him, but he wouldn’t acknowledge Abyss’s thoughts, refusing to engage in a conversation.

This world-destroying deity clearly understood the human psyche. He knew how to manipulate emotions, how to amplify their anxieties, how to break their spirits. Once he identified a weakness, he exploited it mercilessly. This was likely the source of his confidence. He couldn’t imagine how a mere mortal could defeat him. Abyss had surprised him, but he had ultimately found his weakness. Abyss didn’t fear for his own safety or his possessions, but he couldn’t bear to see his followers suffer.

Abyss had angered this proud god, and he was now paying the price. The Lord of Nightmares, using his divine authority, had trapped Abyss in an endless cycle of torment, turning him into a puppet, his actions dictated by the dream.

The cycle continued, his followers’ deepest traumas replaying before his eyes, and he could do nothing to stop it.

The hundredth cycle…

The streets of Lavoisier City were already charred, the smell of burning filling the air before he even ignited the alchemical device. The rival gang members, emerging from the burning buildings, were covered in soot.

The floor of Flora’s room was littered with books and papers. The carpet was torn and shredded from where she had thrashed in agony after being poisoned.

The hall where Leona’s knighting ceremony had taken place was covered in spit, the stench of the nobles’ disgust filling the air. The gilding on the Emperor’s sword was chipped and faded, two of its jewels missing.

“How are you enjoying this, Abyss? This is your punishment for defying me. This is the hundredth cycle, isn’t it? Are you tired of it yet? Well, let me tell you, this is just the beginning. You’re trapped in these three dreams forever. I wonder if you can still call upon your local deities or that useless Lord of Submergence for help? Oh, I guess not,” the Lord of Nightmares’ voice mocked, its androgynous tone now mixed with Kohler’s shrill laughter. “Enjoy your torment, you pathetic challenger! Hahahahaha!”

Abyss wanted to retort, but the Lord of Nightmares wouldn’t give him the chance. He wouldn’t tolerate any further defiance.

The endless cycle of torment was taking its toll, his mind weary from the constant guilt and sorrow. For the first time, he felt mentally exhausted. For an ordinary person, this would be normal, after a long day of studying magic or training in combat. But for Abyss, it was a sign, a warning that this endless torment could break him.

The thousandth cycle…

The streets of Lavoisier City were in ruins, the rival gang members no longer living beings, but charred corpses. Rebecca, her hair disheveled, her eyes red and swollen, dark circles beneath them, her despair palpable, her heartbroken gaze piercing his soul.

Flora’s room was a disaster, the carpet torn to shreds, the furniture broken. And he had stood there, leading the Paladins, executing her a thousand times, witnessing her fear and confusion a thousand times.

In Leona’s dream, the floor was covered in a thin layer of spit, the stench overwhelming. The Emperor’s sword was broken, its gilding and jewels gone. Leona’s silver hair was dull and lifeless, her eyes red and swollen, her face pale and drawn.

“Hahahahaha! Look at you, Abyss! So helpless, so pathetic! It’s delightful! I want to keep you by my side forever, as my personal jester! Hahaha!” the Lord of Nightmares mocked.

“Is that so? Am I truly… helpless?” Abyss wondered, his mind no longer affected by the Outer God’s taunts. A spark of defiance flickered within him.

Chapter 154: Torment from Memories

After condemning Flora to death, Abyss stood there, his expression cold and impassive, as he watched the Paladins force the poisonous potion down her throat.

The potion first destroyed her vocal cords, preventing her from screaming or chanting a prayer for help, then reacted violently in her stomach, causing her body to convulse in agony.

Flora died quickly, her eyes fixed on Abyss, filled with confusion and hurt, as if asking why he had betrayed her, what she had done to deserve this.

Her body, now still and lifeless, resembled that of someone sleeping peacefully. Abyss, accompanied by the Paladins, oversaw the arrangements for her funeral. He walked to her desk and picked up the book she had been reading, its title, The Nine Gods Bless This World, written in an ancient language. It was a notoriously dry and tedious tome, filled with religious dogma, readable only by the most devout followers of the Nine Gods.

The dream shifted abruptly. Abyss now found himself in the Western Empire’s palace.

A crowd of nobles, dressed in lavish attire, stood around, whispering amongst themselves, their gazes fixed on something.

Abyss followed their line of sight, his perspective still controlled by the dream. He saw a small figure with long silver hair—Leona, younger than he remembered, kneeling before a blank stone slab, her expression earnest, almost comical.

Behind the slab stood a tall, handsome man in extravagant robes, a gilded sword, encrusted with jewels, in his hand. The crown on his head identified him as Leona’s father, the former Emperor of the Western Empire.

Abyss seemed to be playing the role of a young nobleman’s son, his height barely reaching the chests of the adults around him, dressed in a gleaming suit of light armor, likely a ceremonial outfit.

The Emperor touched Leona’s shoulders with his sword, his voice deep and resonant. “Leona Placidia Crepeus, I hereby bestow upon you the title of Knight of the Western Empire. Do you swear to serve our empire faithfully and uphold the knightly virtues?”

Unlike the more traditional Eastern Empire, knighthood in the Western Empire wasn’t a social class, but a title reserved for nobles. A noble with exceptional martial skills, a spotless reputation, and a willingness to swear an oath of loyalty to the Empire and the Nine Gods was eligible for knighthood. Each knight received a unique title, earning them respect and admiration. It was a cultural tradition, a moral code, rather than a feudal system.

“I, Leona Placidia Crepeus, swear to serve the Western Empire faithfully, as long as I live. If I break this oath, may I be stripped of my honor and spend my life atoning for my sins,” Leona said, her voice clear and strong, despite her youth, as she looked up at the Emperor. “I will uphold the eight virtues of a Western Empire knight: courage, compassion, integrity, loyalty, chivalry, ambition, sacrifice, and resilience. From this day forward, until my death, my sword and my shield will serve the Western Empire!”

“Reveal the title I have bestowed upon Leona!” the Emperor commanded the court mage standing nearby.

The mage, seemingly prepared, placed his hand on the blank stone slab before Leona, channeling his mana into it.

“A filthy bastard, knighted. How disgusting,” Abyss muttered under his breath.

His voice was so low that it was barely audible, lost in the chatter of the nobles.

But Leona, her hearing incredibly acute, capable of detecting even the faintest sounds, like insects burrowing underground, heard him.

She turned around, her eyes not filled with anger, but with a deep sadness. Abyss had never seen her like this. In his memories, Leona was always boisterous and carefree, her emotions, even her most vulnerable ones, expressed with a childish clumsiness. But now, her gaze was different, distant, making him feel uneasy, a chill running down his spine.

He had uttered those words, and now, his mind trapped within the dream, he couldn’t dismiss them as insignificant. Leona’s sad eyes met his, and he felt a pang of guilt, his heart aching for her.

He finally understood how lonely and unhappy she had been in the palace.

She had trained tirelessly, honed her skills, controlled her temper, even memorized the knightly virtues and etiquette, all for this moment, for the chance to become a respected knight. She had naively believed that this title would change how people perceived her, that they would finally accept her, love her.

But they hadn’t. They still saw her as a bastard, unworthy of the title. Abyss had been the first to voice his disdain, but he wasn’t the last. His words had emboldened the other nobles, their whispers, filled with envy and arrogance, reaching her ears.

Her dream had been shattered.

The mage, having infused the stone slab with enough mana, revealed the inscription: “Knight of the Silver Rose, Leona Placidia Crepeus.”

The nobles applauded, some even cheering, but Leona’s face remained expressionless.

Abyss, unable to control his body, watched the ceremony unfold. Leona, as a princess, had a more elaborate ceremony than ordinary nobles. Throughout the entire process, she didn’t smile, not even when she received a cloak from her father and her own coat of arms.

As the ceremony ended, she left, wiping a tear from her eye as she exited the hall.

The scene shifted again. Abyss found himself back on the streets of Lavoisier City.

Kohler’s—or rather, the Lord of Nightmares’—voice echoed in his mind. “Abyss, how are you feeling? I have good news. These three scenarios will repeat endlessly. And to prevent you from getting bored, I’ll add some variety. Enjoy your gift!”

Chapter 153: Hurting Those Closest to Him

Abyss knew he was in a dream, but he couldn’t calm his heart.

Rebecca was precious to him. He couldn’t bear to see her heartbroken, especially since this dream, crafted by the Lord of Nightmares, was partially based on her real memories, amplified by Abyss’s own consciousness, making it feel incredibly real. His thoughts, manipulated by the Outer God, weren’t his own. He couldn’t think clearly.

Whenever he tried to remind himself that it was just a dream, a force would erase the thought from his mind, leaving him with a frustrating sense of incompleteness, like opening a box and forgetting what he was looking for. His memory, usually impeccable, was now unreliable.

Young Rebecca, her eyes filled with hurt and confusion, approached him, and he couldn’t even close his eyes to avoid her gaze.

He watched helplessly as she took the potion-spraying device from his hands.

She sniffed it, her head shaking slowly, tears streaming down her face, landing on the device. She didn’t speak, didn’t question his actions, her silence more heartbreaking than any accusation.

This Abyss, the one she was facing, didn’t exist in her memories. The Lord of Nightmares had created this scenario, forcing Abyss to experience the pain of hurting his followers firsthand. And it was effective. Abyss was angrier than he had ever been, his desire to confront the Lord of Nightmares burning within him—but the Outer God was intangible, and he couldn’t escape this dream.

He watched Rebecca’s heartbroken expression for what felt like an eternity. Then, the scene shifted to Rebecca desperately trying to heal the injured townspeople, her face streaked with sweat. And Abyss, the cause of their suffering, sat there, chewing on tobacco leaves, watching coldly, as if their pain was of no consequence to him.

After what felt like hours, the injured were carried away, the streets cleared. As Rebecca turned to leave, Abyss’s vision blurred, the scene shifting again.

He was now walking down a long, opulent corridor in a grand palace, flanked by female knights in ornate armor. He recognized their attire—they were Paladins of the Church.

He was also wearing Paladin armor, his own adorned with precious metals and gems, his rank clearly higher than theirs.

A sense of dread filled him.

He remembered Flora’s untimely death, poisoned against her will. It was likely her most traumatic memory.

He wanted to stop, but he couldn’t, his body moving forward, his steps measured and precise, controlled by the dream.

He stopped before a lavishly decorated bedroom door and knocked gently.

“Come in,” Flora’s sweet voice replied.

No… I can’t go in…

But his body moved, his hand opening the door, revealing Flora, dressed in a beautiful gown, sitting at a table, reading a book, her demeanor calm and graceful.

She looked up, a forced smile on her face. “Master Abyss, what brings you here?”

“Close the door,” he said, addressing the Paladins behind him.

The door closed, locked from the inside. One of the Paladins chanted a prayer, silencing the room at the cost of her own voice. They surrounded Flora.

Flora’s eyes widened, her expression shifting from surprise to fear. She stood up, setting aside her book. “Master Abyss, what are you doing?”

“Saint Flora, I, Abyss, Paladin-Judge, hereby pronounce your sentence.”

“Sentence?” Flora asked, her voice trembling. “What crime have I committed?”

“Crime number one: Deliberately disrupting the unity of the Church. The Nine Gods have commanded us to serve them with unwavering loyalty and unity. You, Saint Flora, have defied tradition, broken the rules, and acted independently.”

Before Flora could protest, two female Paladins grabbed her arms, restraining her. According to Church doctrine, a Saint shouldn’t have close physical contact with men, so all the Paladins present, except for Abyss, the one delivering the judgment, were women.

Abyss knew he wasn’t the one who had condemned Flora, but the Lord of Nightmares had altered her memories, replacing her true executioner with him, to amplify his suffering.

“I didn’t!” Flora exclaimed, her voice filled with panic. “I never intended to disrupt the Church’s unity! I wanted everyone to be united, to love each other, I wanted the Church to…”

“Crime number two!” Abyss interrupted, his voice booming. “Spreading heretical ideas, corrupting devout followers, embezzling Church funds, engaging in extravagant construction projects, exploiting the people, and accepting bribes!”

“Crime number three! Deceiving His Holiness, Pope Hendrick III, manipulating him into joining your corrupt organization, attempting to subvert Church tradition, and undermining the faith in the Nine Gods!”

“Crime number four! Stealing Church secrets…”

Abyss continued, listing ten fabricated crimes, then waved his hand. The Paladins closed in on Flora.

Tears streamed down her face, her beautiful golden eyes filled with despair. She didn’t struggle, her voice a weak whisper. “I didn’t… I didn’t…”

“Saint Flora, your crimes are unforgivable. You are hereby sentenced to consume this potion, to cleanse your soul and sever your ties to evil!” Abyss declared, his voice cold and merciless. “Execute the sentence immediately!”

Chapter 152: The Lord of Nightmares’ New Strategy

“Did Kohler merge with the Lord of Nightmares to become this powerful?” Abyss wondered. But then another question arose. Outer Gods couldn’t directly enter this world. They needed to accumulate enough power, enough sustenance, to fully manifest. What method had the Lord of Nightmares used to merge with Kohler? Was Kohler dead, or had he become a slave of the Outer God?

He tried to move, but he couldn’t control his body. His actions felt scripted, his own will suppressed.

He watched helplessly as he lifted the strange device in his hands, his body moving forward, encountering a group of Lavoisier City gang members armed with various weapons.

“Hey! Stop! What’s your business here?!” one of the thugs demanded.

“Greetings from the Boulder Gang!” Abyss’s mouth moved, uttering words he hadn’t intended. He lifted the device, opened a valve, and a stream of viscous liquid sprayed from its nozzle.

Before the thugs could react, the liquid splattered them, its touch burning their skin, the potion igniting in bright purple flames that illuminated the street, revealing the surrounding houses, clearly a residential area.

Abyss couldn’t move, forced to watch as the thugs, their weapons clattering to the ground, screamed and writhed in agony.

“Aaargh!” “Help me!” “It burns! It burns!”

Their screams echoed through the street, and Abyss desperately wanted to cast a spell, to extinguish the flames, but he couldn’t control his body. His lips moved soundlessly, his shoulder twitched, but his limbs refused to obey.

He understood the Lord of Nightmares’ plan.

He had targeted Abyss’s greatest weakness, not his followers’ lives, not even his own, but their suffering.

The Lord of Nightmares intended to force Abyss to harm his own followers, to experience their pain, and to feel fear!

For the first time, doubt crept into Abyss’s heart. He knew how much he cared for his followers. If he harmed them, even in a dream, the pain, the guilt, could become unbearable, potentially transforming into fear.

“It seems you’ve realized my plan,” Kohler’s—or rather, the Lord of Nightmares’—voice echoed in his mind. “Yes, there are three dreams, each tailored to your followers’ deepest fears and traumas. I will make you relive those moments, make you the perpetrator, forcing you to inflict pain upon those you cherish, to experience their suffering firsthand. And in the end, you will feel fear. You are mortal. You have emotions. You can’t escape them! You’re probably wondering why I’ve allowed you to retain some control, some awareness. It’s to make the experience more real. And… I have other methods. But before I reveal them, enjoy your followers’ suffering…”

Abyss watched as the thugs, their bodies burning, their screams fading, were reduced to charred corpses. They ran, they rolled on the ground, but the flames, fueled by the flammable potion, clung to them, spreading to everything they touched.

The fire quickly spread to the nearby houses, their wooden frames easily ignited, the flames growing larger, consuming everything in their path. The residents, screaming, fled their homes, some trying to extinguish the flames with water, but the potion, like oil, floated on the surface, spreading the fire even further.

The crackling of flames, the screams of the townspeople, the crashing of collapsing houses, filled the air. And Abyss, the cause of this destruction, stood there, watching, a box of tobacco in his hand, chewing on the leaves, the pungent smell filling his nostrils.

He hated this feeling, this helplessness, but he had no choice. This dream realm was under the Lord of Nightmares’ control. He couldn’t escape through conventional means.

He tried to distract himself, to avoid thinking about the burning street, the innocent lives lost, focusing on finding a way out.

But no matter how hard he tried to concentrate on defeating the Lord of Nightmares, he couldn’t forget the destruction he had caused, a force manipulating his thoughts, preventing him from acting on his own will. This frustration, this helplessness, was maddening. He knew it was the Lord of Nightmares’ doing. He wanted Abyss to witness his actions, to experience the consequences firsthand. He was under some kind of mental influence, inescapable.

Just as the fire threatened to spread to the other streets, engulfing the entire city, a group of elven mages arrived. They had been in Lavoisier City and, seeing the fire, had rushed to extinguish it with their magic. But for some, it was too late.

Doctors and alchemists arrived, tending to the injured. But their efforts were limited. Many had suffered severe burns, beyond their ability to heal. Charred bodies were carried away, and Abyss even saw two small corpses—not halflings, but human children.

And then, a young Rebecca appeared, her face etched with horror and despair as she surveyed the scene, the injured, the burning buildings, the smell of burning potions filling the air.

Her gaze met his, her eyes filled with tears, and Abyss felt a pang of guilt, his heart clenching.

Chapter 151: Kohler’s Sudden Power Surge

The moment Abyss looked up, Leona sprang into action.

Her reflexes and perception far surpassed his. As she bowed her head, she had sensed an unfamiliar presence near Givia. Instinctively, she looked up and, seeing Kohler, charged towards him without hesitation, her Dou Qi coalescing into a spear, aimed at the hand holding the Dream Shear.

But her attack, which should have made Kohler flinch, had no effect. He casually raised his hand, blocking her spear effortlessly. It wasn’t a physical defense, but some kind of power that neutralized her attack!

Leona was stunned. It was the first time a mortal had so easily blocked her attack. Even Abyss, on the day they met, had had his bone armor shattered by her casual punch. But Kohler stood there unharmed.

“Abyss, I’ve returned,” Kohler said, ignoring Leona, his cold gaze fixed on Abyss. “Are you surprised? Surprised by my newfound power? Surprised that your defenses around the palace are useless?”

Everyone was stunned. A stranger stood beside their newly crowned queen. Those who recognized Kohler were even more bewildered. How dare this former servant of Kevin return to the palace, stand so brazenly beside the former king and Queen Givia?

“Assassin!”

After a moment of stunned silence, the soldiers reacted, drawing their weapons. Alva and Haina, standing behind Givia, also drew their weapons, their gazes fixed on Kohler.

Kohler, now surrounded by armed soldiers, with archers aiming at him from hidden positions, simply smiled, his expression calm and confident. He raised the Dream Shear and, with a flick of his wrist, made the nearest guard vanish into thin air.

His action signaled the start of the battle. Arrows flew from all directions, dozens of enchanted projectiles hurtling towards him.

Kohler casually waved the Dream Shear, and the arrows vanished, not instantly, not fading away, but simply… gone, their disappearance inexplicable, as if they had never existed.

Givia, her eyes wide with alarm, drew her scimitar, shielding her father.

Leona, who had been charging towards Kohler, was suddenly frozen in mid-air, her body suspended, her expression the only sign that she wasn’t paralyzed.

Flora, abandoning all pretense, chanted a prayer, her voice loud and clear, despite the presence of Church officials. She couldn’t risk Leona’s safety.

Crack!

Dark clouds gathered above, and bolts of blue lightning struck Kohler, hitting him directly.

“Useless,” Kohler said, his voice calm, as if he hadn’t even noticed the attack. He was completely unharmed.

“What?” Flora exclaimed, her voice filled with disbelief.

Abyss knew the spell she had used. It was a high-level Divine Art called “Heaven’s Wrath,” a closely guarded secret of the Church. The lightning it summoned was pure divine power, capable of bypassing any defense, reducing its target to ashes—yet Kohler stood there, unscathed.

“I am beyond your reach now,” Kohler said, his gaze sweeping over Flora, Abyss, and Rebecca, who held a potion vial, unsure what to do. His voice was filled with a condescending pity. “And I won’t offer you any mercy. Master has won. Mortals can only kneel before a god’s power.”

He turned to Givia, who was still shielding her father, and with a flick of the Dream Shear, she collapsed, unconscious.

He then turned to Flora, who was about to cast another spell, Rebecca, who was about to drink her potion, and Leona, still frozen in mid-air. With a flick of his wrist towards each of them, they too fell unconscious.

“Now, it’s just you and me, Abyss,” Kohler said, his face now adorned with a satisfied smile, as if he had completed a task. “Do you have any last words?”

“You’ve become incredibly powerful. There must be a reason. Am I within your dream realm?” Abyss asked, his eyes narrowed. “I’m warning you, don’t harm my followers. Or I’ll be very angry.”

“I won’t harm them, but you will,” Kohler said, his voice cold and mocking. “You want to know if you’re in my dream? Not yet, but you will be soon.”

Abyss, without another word, unleashed a powerful blast of magic towards Kohler, who stood there, unmoving, as the magic struck him. The spell should have obliterated him, but Abyss felt its power dissipate upon contact, as if it had been absorbed.

How had he erased his magic? And why hadn’t the Nine Gods intervened? This was a direct violation of their authority! They had the power to intervene directly!

As Abyss prepared to attack again, Kohler raised his hand, the Dream Shear glinting in the light. With a flick of his wrist, darkness engulfed Abyss.

When he regained consciousness, he was standing on a street, holding a strange device, like a water gun, but heavy, not a toy.

“Recognize this place, Abyss? It should be familiar. This is Lavoisier City. And now, you will personally torment your precious followers, until you experience true fear,” Kohler’s voice echoed around him, its tone now blended with that of the Lord of Nightmares.