Chapter 1: The True Face of the Lord of Nightmares
Abyss had erased the memories of all the Lord of Nightmares’ followers, but it wasn’t a spur-of-the-moment decision.
When he and Flora had found Kohler’s body at the Church headquarters, they had discovered not just the Dream Shear, but also a note. Written in precise ancient script, it contained instructions for deciphering an unknown language, followed by a prayer in that language.
Kohler had added a note: This is the prayer given by the Lord of Nightmares to his followers in Hai-Teweru. It can be used to trap a specific individual, whose full name is known, within a dream realm. It was the same spell that had trapped Abyss.
Kohler, having betrayed the Lord of Nightmares, had held nothing back, his annotations detailed and precise. Although Abyss couldn’t remember the details, the prayer and the language itself, now part of his knowledge, remained unaffected by his amnesia. He didn’t know when he had learned it, but he could use it fluently.
His memories of his encounter with the Lord of Nightmares had returned. He now had a plan.
He began chanting, the words sharp and dissonant, his own name woven into the incantation. His intention was clear: to use the prayer on himself, drawing the Lord of Nightmares’ power towards him.
Flora and Leona were worried, but they trusted his judgment. Flora prepared an awakening spell, just in case he couldn’t escape the dream.
As he finished the prayer, a faint breeze stirred the air, and Abyss froze, his body rigid.
Flora frowned. She knew he was trapped in a dream.
“What should we do?” Leona asked, her voice filled with concern.
“Let’s trust Abyss. If he can’t escape on his own, we’ll intervene,” Flora said after a moment of thought. “This dream might not be harmful. Acting without sufficient information could disrupt his plan.”
“Alright,” Leona said, nodding seriously.
…
Abyss looked around. He wasn’t in darkness, but in a dimly lit void, surrounded by faint, flickering stars, like dying embers. A sense of stillness, of death, permeated the realm.
He searched his surroundings, finally spotting a tree in the distance, a large tree floating in the void, its branches thick and numerous, its leaves withered and dry.
“Are you the Lord of Nightmares?” he called out to the tree.
Silence.
“Can you hear me?” he asked again.
More silence.
“Are you alright?” he persisted.
Finally, a faint, almost inaudible whisper, like a呓语, reached him, its words echoing in his mind.
“Destruction… slumber… drifting…”
“Was your world destroyed?” Abyss asked.
“Weak… hungry…”
The Lord of Nightmares, now a tree, could only utter fragmented words, his meaning barely discernible.
All Outer Gods were fallen guardian deities. The Lord of Nightmares was no exception. After Abyss had severed his connection to Hai-Teweru, his consciousness, separated from its power, had reverted to its original form.
Like the Lord of Submergence, he had witnessed his world’s destruction, powerless to prevent it, then drifted through the void, his consciousness fading, until he had been corrupted, transformed into a fear-devouring Outer God.
With his malevolent consciousness destroyed, he had reverted to his true form, a weakened deity, his hunger diminished, but his need for sustenance still present.
“Do you still consume fear? I can build a haunted house for you!” Abyss shouted.
“…” The Lord of Nightmares didn’t reply. He seemed too weak to speak.
“Hmm… This is troublesome. Communication is essential,” Abyss muttered, then flicked his wrist, sending a small bone spike hurtling towards the tree. In this frictionless void, its speed was incredible. It could have crossed Hai-Teweru in seconds.
Even so, it took several minutes to reach the tree. Abyss vanished, reappearing beside the spike. He finally saw the Lord of Nightmares up close—it was a colossal tree, its “leaves” actually dense clusters of branches. He estimated its diameter to be tens of thousands of meters. It was hard to imagine where such a massive tree could have grown.
He examined it carefully, its withered leaves, its cracked bark, its shrunken roots.
A faint, rhythmic pulse, like a heartbeat, emanated from within.
“It seems this tree isn’t fatally wounded. It can still recover. It just needs water and nutrients…” Abyss thought. “But what kind of water and nutrients does a god in tree form consume? I don’t have that knowledge. I’ll have to ask the Nine Gods…”
Fortunately, he had successfully drawn the Lord of Nightmares’ power into himself. Now he just needed to find a way to wake up.
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