Meeting the Dragon of Imagination Again

"You know, right? Feynapotter has declared war on Loen."

"Of course I know. [The Moon] Emlyn is still imprisoned underground at Saint Samuel Cathedral's Church," Klein nodded. "So, what does that have to do with this mural?"

"What if Badheil wasn't the only one who became a god in the Northern Continent?"

Luther looked at him and said, "But does it also include this 'Harvest Goddess'?"

Klein paused for a moment.

Feynapotter worshipped the Earth Mother Goddess, a Goddess who symbolizes harvest and life, much like the meaning represented in this Portrait.

More importantly, if the Earth Mother Goddess is Omebella, the Harvest Goddess, then there is a reason why Feynapotter suddenly attacked Loen —a mother supporting her son is perfectly reasonable anywhere.

"That does make sense... but that's about it..."

Klein said, "You're using one hypothesis to test another."

Luther chuckled to himself.

"I was just saying that casually."

He said, "Let's keep this hypothesis for now and continue exploring." The two continued forward, looking around, but did not find any murals depicting the Giant King Aurmir —perhaps because Portrait of deities are more formal and would not appear in a place where Giant guarded their daily lives.

At the far end of the hall stood a massive stone gate.

"The Giant King’s Court should be behind this door," Klein said. "It seems we can bypass the main gate through this shortcut, which will make things much easier for Little [Sun] and the others."

Luther summoned a Flesh Puppet, which then went over to support the two sides of the gate, slowly opening it.

"Boom--"

However, to their surprise, the other side of the gate was not the magnificent Royal City frozen in the splendid Twilight, but a vast expanse of gray Fog.

The two have arrived at the edge of Groselle's Dream.

"It seems Roselle has no memories of the Royal City, so he can't recreate a close-up scene in his Dream." Luther shook his head. "In other words, until he was pulled into that notebook, he wasn't qualified to enter the Royal City even once."

"Damn it, Groselle doesn't need to be so loyal to guarding the Decaying Forest for Giant King like that."

"..."

Klein remained silent for a moment, his expression complex, as if he were thinking of the honest, simple-minded, and often silly-smiling Giant.

"On the bright side, at least we've found a shortcut for Little [Sun] to enter the 'Giant King’s Court.'" He quickly composed himself and said to Luther, "I think we can go back now."

Luther thought for a moment.

"Could I stay a little longer? I want to go to the depths of Groselle's Subconscious, to the 'City of Miracles' of the 'Dragon of Imagination'."

He said.

"If you want to go, of course you can."

Klein naturally wouldn't refuse, "But there's a very dangerous contamination inside that Hall of Truth. You go yourself; I'd rather not take the risk."

The two said their goodbyes, one preparing to return to reality, the other intending to delve deeper.

"Oh, right."

Before leaving, Klein seemed to remember something and said to Luther, "Don't leave yet after you get back; I need to talk to you about something."

After Luther nodded in agreement, his body vanished from the Dream in a flash.

Inside the magnificent and spacious Palace, Luther was suddenly left alone.

It was strangely quiet... He gazed at the hazy, bottomless gray Fog outside the door, thought for a moment, and then spoke directly:

"Ankewelt, I'm saying, you should be able to hear me, right?"

Luther attempted to communicate directly with the remnant will of that Ancient God.

A gray Fog quietly permeated the air before me, while behind me, the stone pillars of the hall stood tall, eternally unchanging.

It seemed as if nothing had happened.

Stop pretending.

Luther sneered.

"You created this book; how could you not notice it after we came in?"

Although he had no evidence, he felt that given the other party's Pathway behavior as an "Spectator," it was impossible for them not to spy on him.

"..."

A strange feeling was brewing in the air, and a few seconds later, the atmosphere changed completely.

Luther clearly felt as if a gaze was piercing through the Fog, staring directly at him. "You were watching after all."

He couldn't help but smile knowingly. "Alright, let's not waste each other's time. I want to talk to you face-to-face."

The gaze silently withdrew.

Before long, the thick Fog began to tremble.

"Boom!"

As if parted by an invisible force, the Fog spread to both sides, creating a huge gap in the middle. A staircase appeared out of nowhere, one end resting against the opened door, the other end rapidly extending towards the bottom.

Luther stood at the Qidian the steps and looked down. He seemed to see a city, even more magnificent than the Giant King’s Court, floating in the air at the end of the steps.

"City of Miracles", Liveseyd.

All I can say is that Ankewelt was quite savvy, providing a direct route to the bottom.

Luther stepped onto the stairs and walked down one step at a time.

He traversed the thick Fog, passed through shimmering lights and shadows, ignored the endless stream of Subconscious Monster, and went straight to the magnificent Dragon King's Royal City, entering the "Hall of Truth."

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As soon as he stepped into the palace and looked up, Luther's eyes narrowed sharply.

At this moment, within this magnificent, mythical Palace, atop a massive stone pillar at the far end, a colossal Dragon coils. Its scales are covered with strange patterns and symbols, and its enormous size gives it an almost ethereal appearance.

What shocked Luther the most was that inside the Dragon's enormous claws was... a white, Classical Quill.

At the edge of the Northern Continent, on a vast wasteland.

The "Silent Saint" Heliodorus swept the church inside and out, tidied the vegetable garden behind the house, and put away his belongings in the corner. Only then did he straighten up and take a serious look at the place where he had devoted himself to meditation for many years.

His aged face remained expressionless as he calmly took everything in. He stood there for a moment, then raised his hand.

"Call!"

A pitch-black shadow surged forth from beneath his feet, rapidly spreading forward. All the lit candles were swallowed by the shadow, their light extinguished one after another. With each candle extinguished, it seemed as if a heavy, Degeneration force sank into the shadow.

Countless desperate, painful, and frantic screams gradually emerged from the shadows.

Almost instantly, the church, which had been bathed in warm orange light, was replaced by a thick, Filth darkness. The last candle consumed by the shadows was near the altar, and Heliodorus approached respectfully.

He stared at the wooden inverted Cross for a moment, then reached out and took it down.

"Puff!"

Amidst the splatter of blood, the "Silent Saint" had already plunged the Cross into his own heart!

With the power of Flesh, the Cross was firmly fixed to his chest. At the same time, the previously noisy shadow beneath his feet quieted down.

Heliodorus adjusted his robes, then turned and left the church.

Before leaving, he made sure to close the door behind him.