After the dream had settled down again, Cyril glanced at the water level in the Terror Giant's chest, which seemed to have risen a little further. He furrowed his brow slightly, then calmly shook his head.
"I was just giving you a friendly warning."
"Friendly?" The Terror Giant sneered.
Cyril nodded. "Of course. It wouldn't do me any good if the Church of Storms took you out."
"Besides, the lady in the Mirror World has already paid me."
He had meant to take out the Red Priest card as proof, but then remembered that this was a dream—and not even his own—so he let it go and continued, "Of course, if possible, I'd also like to get a War Bishop Beyonder Characteristic from you."
"After all, I took a considerable risk by choosing to help you at a time like this."
"I was already on the Church of Storms' wanted list. If I stay in Bansy now, they might take me out while they're dealing with you."
"Ha. Greedy humans."
The Terror Giant and his reflection sneered in unison, both looking thoroughly contemptuous.
Cyril paid no attention to the mockery and continued, "So, do you agree? If you don't, I'll leave Bansy right now. I don't want to be baptized by the Lord of Storms' lightning."
After a brief silence, the Terror Giant and his reflection nodded in sync. "All right."
"But it must be witnessed by the City of Calamity. That Ancient Dragon must swear not to influence me or interfere with everything I've arranged in Bansy."
Cyril nodded at once. "No problem."
Once he and the God of Weather had reached an agreement, the layer of dusky black mist that had covered the dream's sky suddenly dispersed. Edefana, who had been hovering outside the dream all this time,