I leaned back slightly, tapping the rim of the teacup with my finger.
"Alright," I said slowly, "but before I agree to anything… I have a few conditions."
Reha tilted her head the slightest bit and, looking rather amused, said, "Is that so? Well, do tell, do tell…"
I drew in a breath and stated, "My safety. I want assurance that my life won't be in danger."
If I was going to step into someone's dreamscape, then someone needed to guarantee I wasn't about to be skewered or torn apart by whatever nightmare lurked inside.
It was the most basic request, and honestly, I would've been a fool not to start with it.
Reha smiled faintly and tapped the glass of the coffin before saying, "Inside the dream, no such assurance can be given. The dream is its own realm, bound by its own rules and limitations. To enter we need someone like you who can use spectrum sorcery. Because the fundamentals of this class of sorcery are to deceive. Meaning you will be deceiving the very concept of dreams to enter it."
She paused and looked at me, pointing a finger.
"To sum it up, you and only you alone can enter. Because one who does not possess the sorcery of spectrums will not even be able to do so, and also, you yourself can't take anyone with you. I guess you get the picture."
She sighed and looked away.
"Well, that said, outside of the dream… your life will be protected. No harm will come to you while you remain in this world. That much I can guarantee."
I narrowed my eyes, feeling disappointed at her answer.
'Basically, she was saying: If you die in there, that's on you… That's not very reassuring, is it? Well, I can't lie that I expected as much. Still, having some kind of protection outside meant I wouldn't be knifed in the back while asleep and am inside the dream, which was… something.'
I nodded once, hiding my dissatisfaction behind a crooked smile.
"Fine. That's… acceptable, I think. Then the second thing: after I do this, successfully, you leave me alone. No strings, no hidden clauses, no surprise follow-ups. You vanish from my life, leaving me alone. What do you say?"
Reha didn't even hesitate as she said the thing I wanted most.
"Yes. If you succeed, we will never make contact with you again. That is a promise."
'Yup, that's what I wanted the most. I don't care what happens now, just leave me be after all this.'
I thought gleefully, hiding my satisfaction behind a wiry smile, and nodded again, tapping the cup against the table with a faint clink.
"Good, that's something to be happy about…"
Reha chuckled softly at that, her voice low and amused.
"You're just as I expected you to be…"
I poignantly noticed that remark, but kept quiet about it, not trying to unravel any more hidden plots.
I shifted slightly, fingers drumming on my knee.
The third condition was where the real problem lay.
"Next… I don't even know how to perform this 'sorcery of spectrums' you're talking about. Never heard of it, don't know the first thing about it. So unless someone teaches me how to use it, my affinity for it is useless."
Her smile deepened, and she pressed her fingers lightly against the glass. "Naturally. That role falls to me. I will personally give you tutelage in this sorcery. Worry not—I am quite a capable teacher."
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes.
'Great. So I get stuck with the undead Archmeister as a tutor. What a dream come true…'
I commented inwardly and yawned, feeling the need to sleep. Judging from the time I spent with Lycrane, it was probably midnight by now.
I sighed, leaning my chin against my palm.
"Alright, that makes three. Last one's… hmm," I paused, watching her closely. "Payment. Compensation. If I risk my neck for you people, I want money."
I said blatantly, showing my inner demon of greed.
Reha chuckled, the sound echoing faintly inside the hut. Then she nodded once and looked at me.
"Let us put that matter on hold until the task is finished. If you succeed, you will not leave empty-handed."
I clicked my tongue quietly, feigning irritation.
'What do you mean, "on hold until finished"? Money talk is the most important talk, woman!'
"Fine," I muttered, finally lifting the cup and taking a cautious sip.
My gaze slid toward Lycrane, who was still sitting there like an unbothered statue, offering nothing, saying nothing. Typical Lycrane.
'Well, there it is,'
I thought grimly.
'I've laid out my conditions. They've answered, one way or another. Now it's just a matter of time. Though I can't help but think… they said a world that is inside a dream. What could it actually look like? And can I really do something about this? Interrupt a certain someone's ascension to godhood. I mean, he is bound to be powerful, right? Who is he anyway?'
…
[Third person POV]
A vast stretch of forestland unfolded endlessly, where ancient trees rose like silent sentinels and heavy mist swelled between their trunks, rolling outward, making for an eerie silence.
Within that suffocating veil of white and shadow, indistinct figures moved together.
Walking in eerie unison, their steps pulled them toward a destination only they seemed to know.
Their shapes were grotesque things—some small and twisted, others towering and lumbering. With limbs jutting from places nobody should possess, arms sprouting from skulls, or crooked legs where there should have been none, they looked like monsters torn away from a nightmare.
Then, abruptly, the march stopped.
As one, they froze in place, their bodies trembling. Slowly, in an uncanny simultaneity, their gazes rose skyward.
Bloodshot eyes glistened with a madness that somehow carried a strange devotion, and yet… there was something else.
In their raw, unblinking stares lingered fear and the quiet sense of reverence.
It was as though they were not merely gazing at the moon above—but at the divine presence that the moon concealed.
They were looking at their god!
And then, impossibly so, the moon's silvered surface rippled.
From its reflection broke through a hand.
A pale, unmistakably human hand.
As though all this time, the radiant moon had never been a celestial body at all, but the guise of an unfathomable being masquerading as such.
The hand, with fingers long and chillingly delicate, extended outward.
Its gesture pointed in the distance, marking a destination—namely, the kingdom known as Friscus.
The shadows obeyed without hesitation.
The instant the command was given, their bodies lurched forward again, marching in the direction ordained to them.
At that time, high above, seated leisurely upon the pale hand itself, was a figure.
Where his head should have been, there was a distortion and through it protruded countless shards of glass that pierced the severed neck, making it look painful and grotesque.
But it was not something one could see—
But at that time…
He, whoever he was, was smiling.
Smiling, because at long last, the ritual to ascend into godhood was drawing to its final, inevitable steps.