Medicinal Herb Supply

The Nightmare Patriarch lowered his head and pondered for a while before deciding to probe the boy's true capabilities. If the other party had only just entered the dream realm, then with his own attainments in dreams, he could turn him into his avatar. If the boy's talent was strong enough, he could even replace him entirely.

If the other party's attainments in dreams were sufficiently powerful, beyond his ability to suppress, then he would have to find a way to eliminate him.

From beginning to end, only one person had ever mastered the Nightmare Meditation Method: the Nightmare Patriarch himself. Everyone else who cultivated the Nightmare Meditation Method was either his puppet, or someone who believed they were still themselves when they had, in truth, already become the Nightmare Patriarch's puppet.

On the path of dreams, he permitted no one but himself to walk it. This was the only road to godhood not yet claimed by another—at least, the only one in this domain.

With that thought, the Nightmare Patriarch's mind shifted, and he closed his eyes.

In the Northwestern Nations, in the imperial capital of what was now called the Nightmare Kingdom—the Annain Capital—within the courtyard of an exceedingly luxurious family estate, a middle-aged man raised his head and looked eastward.

"Dole, a newly advanced Level Seven. Interesting. I advanced to Level Seven at fifty and was hailed as the most outstanding genius in the northwest. He advanced to Level Seven at twenty-nine—truly enough to make one jealous."

The Patriarch had just sent him a message through a dream, telling him to test the boy's true capabilities. The middle-aged man considered it, then rose to his full height.

There were quite a few Level Sevens in the Northwestern Nations, and several were stronger than him. He had naturally