Luther walked toward the far end of the street.
He roughly assessed the direction and sensed that the city's center had the richest spirituality and the greatest number of dreams. There, the glow of dreams overlapped, almost seeming to merge together.
No, they had actually merged.
He had not gone far before he noticed something unusual.
There, the gray fog had vanished, replaced by a vast, illusory sphere of light. Within it, brilliant lights and shadows flowed hazily, seemingly filled with all manner of strange sights.
It seemed that many people were having the same dream.
Luther walked to the edge of the dream and cautiously reached out to test it. He sensed no danger.
He hesitated, then stepped inside.
Bright sunlight instantly illuminated everything around him.
Azure skies, clean streets, cheerful crowds. The gray, dreary Saint Millon Luther had seen during the day was gone, replaced by a magnificent, beautiful city. The domes of the God of Combat Church soared high, gleaming in the sunlight.
"Praise the God of Combat!"
"Long live His Majesty the Emperor!" People were parading through the bustling streets. Smiles lit their faces, as though they felt an immense sense of honor and happiness at that moment. Tall warriors marched in orderly formations, looking imposing and majestic. Every so often, they stopped to strike the ground with their ceremonial spears and let out resounding cries.
The crowd grew even more excited, roaring along with the warriors. It was a tradition of the giants from a thousand years ago, expressing approval through roars. Even now, it endured among these descendants whose bloodline had grown thin.
Luther watched the long procession and the ordinary citizens following it.
"Did something happen? Why is everyone so happy?"
He grabbed a random passerby and asked, feigning curiosity.
"You don't know?