"Alazan."
In the depths of his mind, Dago coldly called that name through a special soul frequency.
Less than half a second later, a concealed ripple of feedback came from within his spiritual sea of consciousness.
The morning sunlight slanted across Dago's pale, almost translucent slender hand.
In the void, strands of strange light that defied physical laws began gathering and intertwining in his palm.
Accompanied by a faint sensation of spatial distortion, a metallic ladybug that looked as though it had been cast from pure gold, its body flickering with profound runes, slowly wriggled out of the light.
If the fanatics of this world's Deep Drowning Church saw this absurd yet sacred sight, they would probably fall to their knees at once and worship it as a "miracle" heralding the descent of a true god!
Oh, no... more likely, the Inquisition would immediately brand him a "heretic," tie him to a stake, and burn him alive.
Dago looked down from above at the golden ladybug in his palm, projected from Alazan's true body. His gaze flickered uncertainly in the shadows.
When he had first attempted Reincarnation into Dreams, his innate suspicion had driven him to conceal it from Alazan and forcefully activate it alone.
But according to the most orthodox cultivation process of Spiritheart Amber, wizards of the "Spiritheart" school had to do something during every one of these extremely dangerous Reincarnations into Dreams...
They had to establish an absolutely safe "soul anchor" in the real world, or have an absolutely trusted high-ranking guardian watch over them.
That way, if the dream suffered a logical collapse or their soul became lost, they could be forcibly awakened in time through external intervention.
This harsh requirement undoubtedly showed that cultivating Spiritheart Amber was far from as simple as "getting stronger after