Iver had no intention of taking Arsene to Morgan's Funhouse.
Even if Isabel didn't mind, he did.
--To be fair, all the "Fun Little Gadgets" in there were gifts from Lady Morgan, filled with the flavor of the Path of Love. Iver hadn't used at least half of them yet.
If an outsider entered that place, wouldn't they think the great Pope Your Majesty was a pervert?
So Iver would never bring anyone there.
Iver planned to take Arsene into the Dream Realm through genuine knowledge and skill.
Knowledge of this level naturally wasn't something he had learned from Avalon. Rather, it was part of the necessary knowledge passed down for Advanced Divine Arts.
The teacher was still reading from the textbook, while the other students were busy with their own tasks. But Iver's getting up and dragging Arsene away still caused the others some surprise. Even Mia, the mistress of the dream, raised her head to glance at them, but she quickly sank back into admiring the beauty of the "young version of Arsene" beside her.
Because the mistress of the dream didn't care, nobody else cared either.
When Iver and Arsene left the classroom and came outside, Arsene suddenly felt something and instinctively looked back.
--In that instant, Arsene was seized by terror.
He clearly saw that everyone in the classroom behind them—including the teacher, Mia, and "Young Arsene"—had turned around in unison and were staring at him expressionlessly.
"Come on. Don't worry about it."
Iver tugged at Arsene and said casually, "That's the dream master's subconscious wariness and resistance toward dreamwalkers. It's like the tissue fluid secreted when the body senses a foreign object in a wound..."
"...Oh, sorry."
Arsene interrupted him in a low voice. "I only have an elementary-school education. I don't understand."
Iver was