Blood

"Feel free to communicate."

A meeting of four people, and one of such unimaginable caliber, meant that the things these individuals could discuss were few and far between.

Sasrir had already finished speaking about the sequence potions and fell silent, watching the others.

In the end, it was the Goddess who asked Truman, "Will you be staying in the City of Darkness for this recent period?"

"Probably not," Truman said, uncertain himself. "I need to make a trip to the Kingdom of the Sun God. I have a group of believers there that I saved, and I need some time to indoctrinate them."

"If the Sun God goes to war with the other ancient gods, I will also join the fray as the Angel of Dreams."

Securing enough anchors of divinity required more than just a title; it required tangible, traceable deeds and acts of protecting one's believers.

He had compiled the Apocalypse of the Night while in the City of Darkness, which had left a profound mark on the history of the Church of Night, but here in the Sun God's territory, he was nothing more than a name.

The Goddess glanced at Lilith. "You are taking her with you. I will be focusing my attention on stabilizing the characteristics and balancing the uniqueness for a while, so the power of concealment will weaken."

The Goddess was still waiting for the optimal moment to ascend to godhood.

"Understood." Truman nodded.

Lilith remained silent; for now, she was merely a vampire.

"Very well, this meeting of the Dream Council concludes here. Everyone, we are creating an era."

With a wave of Truman's hand, everyone departed from the Heaven of Dreams.

Upon returning to reality, the Angel of Concealment nodded to him gently before gradually fading into concealment, as if erased by an eraser.

"I need some time." Truman left as well, leaving behind a blank-faced Lilith.

The ancestor of vampires suddenly felt a surge of irritation, realizing for the first time that her decision to regress to a Sequence 7 vampire had been a mistake.

Truman found a stone room and took out the Trojan Horse of Destiny characteristic he had obtained through the exchange.

The Heaven of Dreams was deeply bound to Truman—more tightly than the future Mr. Fool was to Sefirah Castle—so accomplishing such a task was simple.

He took out the Gloves of the Ancient that the Goddess had gifted him, along with the Miracle Invoker characteristic he had obtained in the Golden Kingdom.

"Sequence 2 characteristics from all three pathways of the Lord of the Mysteries are now in my hands!"

Traveler, Trojan Horse of Destiny, and Miracle Invoker.

As for why they weren't Sequence 1?

Sequence 1 was far too special. The quantity was fixed at three portions, essential for godhood, and far too precious. Collecting them was an arduous task.

"Gloves of the Ancient..." Truman rubbed his chin, feeling that things were a bit troublesome. After all, he wasn't an Artisan and didn't know how to craft mystical items. "Then, I shall shatter them!"

Truman drew a streak of intensely brilliant dream phosphor from the book of dreams, shattering the gloves of the ancient and the other two portions of beyonder characteristics into specks of light.

Even an angel could achieve this, let alone him.

In an instant, the room was filled with colorful, shimmering motes of light.

"All beyonder characteristics shall coalesce in a magnificent and logical manner."

Truman made a prophecy upon the book of dreams.

The next moment, those countless specks of light were stirred by some unseen force, transforming into a storm that swirled around Truman.

"The beyonder characteristics shall ultimately form a glove."

Truman spoke once more.

The light condensed, finally taking the shape of a glove adorned with mysterious patterns.

"Let me see..." Truman began to test the glove's functions, but the moment he touched it, he realized something was wrong.

"The convergence of three pathways has caused some unfavorable changes." Truman frowned. "It will involuntarily turn any living creature within a fifty-meter radius into a marionette?"

This side effect was far too severe; standing in a crowd would make him a weapon of mass destruction. He himself did not fear such costs, but those around him would not be so fortunate.

"Try again!" Truman drew down another streak of phosphor, shattering the characteristics once more.

It was a clumsy method, but there would always be progress. After about dozens of attempts, Truman finally grasped the key.

"The beyonder characteristics shall combine with the dream phosphor."

Truman spoke, and the characteristics condensed, forming a glove once again.

This glove was very similar to the previous gloves of the ancient, with a deep black base outlined by three extremely bizarre patterns.

But the difference was that this glove seemed to constantly flicker with phosphor, and a dream symbol had condensed on the back of the hand.

The dream symbol was a simple sketch of the book of dreams, carrying tiny specks of phosphor; a single glance seemed enough to sink one into an infinitely beautiful dream.

"As expected, there has never been a perfect magical item; such is the rule of this world." Truman held the new generation of the gloves of the ancient, feeling quite satisfied.

"However, I can neutralize the essence of madness within it, making it less intense."

He had been mistaken before; he had wanted to forge a perfect magical item, but madness was an inherent essence that could not be shed. Moreover, at the level of a sequence 2, the madness was already quite intense.

After several experiments, Truman neutralized the madness. Instead of trying to eliminate the cost, he used the book of dreams to restrain it, preserving the most distinctive abilities of the three major pathways.

Such as historical projections, wishes, theft, restitution, roaming, reproduction, and so on.

"Very well, the name shall remain the ancient, it suits me quite well."

Truman put on his gloves. For a moment, it felt as if the entire world was within his grasp.

This was due to the close connection with the book of dreams.

"Perfect!" Truman nodded in satisfaction.

"But did I forget something?" Truman walked out of the stone house.

"You finally came out..." A cold, eerie voice drifted into his ear. Truman instinctively looked over.

Lilith's eyes were bloodshot, a bestial nature surging within them—it was the instinct of a vampire!

"Hiss!" Truman gasped.

He had forgotten about this vampire. A sequence seven vampire really needed to drink blood!

Lilith had been regressed into a vampire for quite some time now, entering a state of intense bloodlust, and she had been unable to leave this place at all...

"I want to drink your blood!" An unconcealable craving appeared on Lilith's flawless face.

"About that..." Truman wasn't prepared to sacrifice himself to feed a monster. "How about I go find a few people to bring in? To draw some blood or something?"

"No, I want to drink your blood!" Lilith refused, staring fixedly at Truman.

This gaze reminded Truman of the scene when he first met Lilith. Back then, Lilith had truly been capable of tearing him limb from limb.

"Why?" Truman didn't refuse again, choosing to ask instead.

"Your blood is very pure, very special!" Lilith's eyes were blood-red, and she was already about to pounce.

"Special?" Truman was stunned. "Could it be because of the book of dreams?"

"Or perhaps because of this so-called the purifier?" Truman recalled how the potion flowed through his body without leaving a trace.

Even now, he still couldn't figure out the principle behind it, only vaguely sensing a form of rejection.

After confirming that the book of dreams was similar to the chaos sea and sefirah castle, he speculated that it might be the repulsion between the sefirah and different pathways.