"Besides you three, there's someone else who's arrived here," Sunday said. "So, that guy must be your enemy, right?"
Zhong Wanhong and Lü Heng remained bewildered, while Yu Lin pouted, raised her hand, and shook her tiny fist. "That's right! That's him! A big bad guy!"
"I see..." Sunday murmured, then turned to Robin behind him. "Though I'm just a phantom from the past and can't do much, I can still lend a hand. Leave that guy to me."
Before Sunday's words had even faded, a deafening roar echoed from the distance. Everyone turned to see a massive, indistinct figure silhouetted against the dark sky. Its jaws gaped open, unleashing torrents of raging flames that swept across the land.
Having exhausted all other methods, the Martyr resorted to the most direct approach: he intended to completely destroy the Illusionary Realm, thus forcing his way out.
"That guy... can actually create a dragon?!" Lü Heng, gradually recovering from his initial shock, stared at the distant figure, his lips twitching slightly. Their strongest fighter, Yu Lin, had only become an Evolver after bathing in dragon blood. How could they possibly stand a chance against a real dragon now?
Lü Heng then turned his gaze to Sunday. While his earlier words had seemed utterly absurd, Lü Heng honestly couldn't imagine how he planned to fight a dragon.
It was like pitting a comic book character against a real person.
Perhaps Robin's brother had been formidable in his original world, but the entity standing before them now was merely a phantom. How powerful could a phantom truly be?
Moreover, hadn't Robin's brother been a prisoner just moments ago, recently "rescued" by her?
Lü Heng's mind raced with questions. In stark contrast, Sunday didn't even glance at the rampaging dragon. His eyes remained fixed on Robin as he slowly uttered two words: "Thank you..."
The second layer of the Dream-within-a-Dream had been dispelled.
For a fleeting moment, Robin felt as if she were surfacing from water. But the sensation vanished instantly. When she looked around, everything seemed largely unchanged; she was still in Golden Hour Plaza.
The only difference was that Sunday was gone.
"What's going on? What happened?" The others had also felt that strange "surfacing" sensation. Lü Heng scanned the area, noticing Sunday's inexplicable absence, and turned to Robin. "Where's your brother?"
"He should be at the Penacony Grand Theater right now," Robin replied, pointing in the opposite direction of the Golden Fountain (which was actually a syrup fountain). In Golden Hour Plaza, a massive, majestic blue structure seemed to hover in the air—the Penacony Grand Theater.
At that moment, the opulent theater's outer shell peeled away, revealing a colossal golden figure within, resembling the hand of a conductor leading an orchestra.
Following Robin's pointed finger, the others naturally saw the colossal figure. The mere act of looking at it filled Zhong Wanhong, Lü Heng, and Yu Lin with an intense sense of dread.
"What in the world is that...?" Zhong Wanhong muttered.
"Dominicus of the Harmonious Choir, empowered by the choir's collective will. Or rather, Sunday of the Harmonious Choir." Robin paused, knowing they wouldn't understand the distinction. "The former is one of the embodiements of Xipe the Harmony, while the latter is an alternate form of Dominicus, created when Sunday harnessed the power of Order to interfere with and influence the original Dominicus."
Knowing they wouldn't grasp the explanation, Robin simplified it further. "In short, it's complicated. The place we were just in was a massive, world-encompassing Dream Realm created by my brother."
"But this place... this is the true Illusionary Realm itself."
Zhong Wanhong: "..."
Lü Heng: "Huh?"
-
The perspective shifted to the Martyr. He commanded his conjured dragon to wreak havoc, and after a while, he felt a sensation of rising. His first thought was that he had succeeded in escaping the Illusionary Realm.
The scenery before him did indeed change, but he quickly realized he hadn't returned to reality. Instead, he found himself on a vast platform, where a colossal golden figure loomed over him.
"This is... the Core of this Illusionary Realm?" The Martyr instantly recognized it. This entity, he realized, was the very thing that had been interfering with his Ability.
The answer was clear: destroy the Core, and he could escape.
Yet, he also sensed an overwhelming sense of danger radiating from the golden giant. A chilling thought crept into his mind: if he didn't use his full power, he might die here.
But wasn't this Illusionary Realm fundamentally constructed from his own Ability? How could a realm born of his own power now pose a mortal threat to him?
This was like a classic philosophical paradox: Could an omnipotent God create a stone so heavy that even He could not lift it?
The Martyr's gaze gradually sharpened, his expression turning grave. But just as quickly, as if struck by a sudden realization, his solemnity dissolved into feverish excitement.
"You... are you also a messenger of the Divine?" he shouted.
"Have you seen a Divine Being?"
"Do you know how to meet a Divine Being?!"
"I can't be wrong! It's faint, but the aura of divinity permeates your very being!"
Despite his questions, the Martyr left no room for answers, his words tumbling over each other in a breathless torrent.
Not that Sunday cared. Even if given the chance, he wouldn't have bothered replying. He simply glared down at the man who had dared to "bully" his sister. Then, the colossal golden figure of the divine Sovereign, Sunday, raised his scepter.