Samael was genuinely euphoric as he stared at the colossal bones scattered across the beach.
His mind was already in a frenzy.
Weapons.
Dozens of them.
Maybe hundreds.
If that material was at least Fallen rank—as everything suggested—then he could create Ascended weapons.
The mere thought made his heart race.
He couldn't even imagine how strong that would make him.
He couldn't wait.
He had to test it.
Now.
Samael stepped forward, broke off a fragment of bone, and gripped it tightly. Without hesitation, he poured his essence into the material.
And then…
The shock hit.
The drain was absurd.
Violent.
Wildly disproportionate.
An unprecedented amount of essence was ripped out of his body in an instant.
When the bone vanished…
He nearly dropped to his knees.
His essence was completely depleted.
Empty.
Dry.
His limbs felt heavy, his breathing uneven.
In that state, he couldn't create anything else.
Worse—
He was defenseless.
Just like before.
The Spell echoed before him.
[You have acquired a Memory.]
Samael's heart leapt.
"Finally…" he murmured.
An Ascended Memory.
That had to be it.
There was no other possibility.
Memory Name: Ascended SpearMemory Rank: Awakened
The smile froze on his face.
"…What?"
His eyes widened.
"What do you mean Awakened?!" he snarled. "The material was Fallen!"
The Spell did not respond.
The silence was absolute.
"Damn it…" Samael dragged a hand down his face, exhausted. "Not again… not again…"
Frustration crashed down on him.
"How many times has this happened already?" he muttered. "I build expectations… and they crush me. I'm so damn tired of this…"
Memory Level: 1
No surprise there.
Still irritating.
Memory Description:
[This spear was created by the Honest Trickster, who placed his hopes in forging an Ascended weapon—only to be disappointed. The Memory was forged from the remains of a Fallen Terror that attempted to flee the depths… and failed.]
Samael closed his eyes for a second.
Took a deep breath.
Opened them again.
Enchantment: Expectation
[The more expectations placed upon this spear, the stronger it becomes. The fewer expectations, the weaker it becomes.]
Silence.
Two seconds.
Three.
"…"
Then Samael laughed.
A short laugh.
Tired.
Disbelieving.
"Cursed Spell…" he murmured. "You did this on purpose just to mock me, didn't you?"
The sea wind blew cold.
Moonlight shimmered across the black water.
And the "victory" he had felt just moments ago…
Already seemed far less glorious.
Because in the Dream Realm, even rewards came wrapped in irony.
In cruelty.
And in hidden traps.
And Samael was starting to understand that the hard way.
"What a lovely situation…" he muttered bitterly. "Injured, out of essence, and stuck with a weakened Memory."
He could feel it clearly.
The Ascended Spear was extremely weak.
Probably because he hadn't placed even a shred of trust in it yet.
After exploring the area for a few minutes, he discovered something else unpleasant.
There was nowhere decent to stay.
No safe cave.
No structure.
Nothing.
"Oh, what a life…" Samael muttered.
Still, he had formed a backup plan the moment he saw the bones.
He gathered several leaves from the nearby forest, taking care not to enter the dense woods—after all, he still valued his life.
Then he returned to the massive bones.
"All right…" he murmured, looking at them. "Terror-chan."
He blinked.
Thought for a second.
"…Was I Japanese in my past life?"
No.
But he consumed enough media to know that the name was probably offensive…
In some way he didn't fully understand.
Even so, strangely enough…
It lifted his mood just a little.
Which had been terrible.
He placed the leaves beside the massive bones.
"…I forgot I'm out of essence," he commented, staring at the useless materials before letting out a tired sigh.
He sat down on the sand and looked at the bones in front of him.
"You know, Terror-chan… I've heard humans are social creatures. Being alone for too long drives us insane," he said, his tone carrying a mix of discomfort and sincerity.
Silence answered.
"I don't want to go insane. And even though it's weird talking to a pile of bones…" he looked away. "I hope you'll be my conversation partner from now on."
The word partner tasted bitter.
"Ah… how low have I fallen…" he murmured. "Talking to bones just to stay sane."
He let out a weak laugh.
"And yet… this still feels more pleasant than the Academy."
His gaze grew distant.
"That place was suffocating. Like it was constantly trying to crush me. The stares… the constant pressure… my self-esteem always hanging by a thread."
Samael hugged his knees to his chest.
"Not here. Here it's simple. Kill or be killed. No mind games. No invisible pressure."
He took a deep breath.
"I feel freer here, you know?" he murmured. "You get me, right, Terror-chan?"
Maybe he was just talking to himself.
Maybe he was only projecting.
But in that moment…
It made him feel better.
And in the Dream Realm, sometimes—
That was already enough.