Ruins

Lumian instinctively looked around and saw the familiar table, chairs, bookcase, wardrobe, and bed.

This was his bedroom, but a faint gray mist shrouded it.

A lucid dream? Am I having a lucid dream? Lumian's pupils widened instantly.

A lucid dream was a state in which someone retained the ability to think and remember as they did while awake, despite being asleep. It was quite rare, though people who underwent special training could trigger it more often.

Previously, to unravel the secret of Lumian's gray-mist dream and eliminate this hidden danger for good, Aurora had tried various methods of inducing lucid dreams on multiple occasions. None had succeeded.

Yet now, for no apparent reason, Lumian had regained awareness within his dream.

After a brief moment of shock and bewilderment, Lumian collected his thoughts and considered a possibility:

Was it caused by that tarot card representing the Seven of Wands?

That woman said the card would help me unravel the secret of my dream...

So its purpose is to let me enter a lucid dream, allowing me to truly explore this area shrouded in gray mist?

Hmm... Compared to what I remember, the gray mist seems much, much thinner now...

As these thoughts flashed through his mind, Lumian turned and strode over to the chair sitting at an angle. Bracing both hands against the table pushed up to the wall, he leaned forward to look out the window.

What met his eyes was not a familiar scene.

This dream had not reproduced Cordu, the village where he lived.

Beneath the thin, pale gray mist, the most striking sight was a towering peak. Composed entirely of reddish-brown stones and russet soil, it rose twenty or thirty meters toward the sky.

Ring after ring of buildings surrounded the peak. Some had collapsed, while others had been burned black, making it impossible to tell what they had looked like intact.

From where Lumian stood, they resembled ruined tombs arranged in uneven circles.

Across the entire area, the ground was pitted and strewn with rubble, without a single weed.

Moreover, the mist high above grew thicker and whiter. Lumian could not tell whether there was a sun. All he knew was that this place was unusually dim, like a night lit only by stars.

After observing carefully for a while, he murmured to himself:

"Is this the entire dream?"

Was this what the dream that had troubled him for so many years really looked like?

After a brief daze, Lumian began considering a more practical question:

"Where is this supposed secret of the dream hidden?

"On that peak, or inside one of the ruined buildings?"

Lumian did not rush out of his bedroom to enter that area and explore the dream. He remained where he was, examining every place within view.

Suddenly, he sensed a figure flashing through the ruins surrounding the peak.

The house he occupied had only two floors and was not high enough, while the gray mist, though thin, remained impossible to ignore. For a moment, Lumian could not be certain whether he had imagined it.

After a while, he slowly exhaled and told himself, Don't rush. Be patient. Don't rush. Be patient.

It looks like this dream really does hold quite a few secrets. It doesn't seem to belong entirely to me. Exploring blindly could be dangerous...

Hmm, I'll go find that woman first thing tomorrow morning and see whether I can get more details. Then I'll decide what to do...

With thoughts crowding his mind, Lumian withdrew his gaze, preparing to leave this dream and get some proper sleep.

But now that he was lucid, he found he had no idea how to actually wake himself.

After repeated attempts at suggestion failed, he lay down on the bed and tried to muddle his thoughts, imitating his former sleeping state.

An unknown amount of time passed before Lumian abruptly sat up and saw pale golden sunlight filtering through the curtains into his room.

Finally awake...

Sure enough, falling asleep inside the dream brings back that muddled state, and then I can leave...

Lumian breathed a sigh of relief and spoke silently to himself.

Just then, a knock sounded at the door.

"Aurora?" Lumian's heart tightened, worried that something bad had happened.

"It's me." Aurora's voice came through the door.

Lumian swung out of bed, hurried to the door, grasped the handle, and pulled it open.

It was indeed Aurora outside. She wore a white silk nightgown, her long golden hair falling softly down her back.

"How did it go?" She seemed quite certain that Lumian had only just woken.

Lumian concealed nothing, telling Aurora exactly what he had experienced.

Aurora nodded as though deep in thought.

"So that card lets you have lucid dreams..."

She then asked, "What do you plan to do next?"

Lumian gave a thoughtful hum.

"After grabbing something to eat, I'll go find that woman and see if I can get more information and figure out what she really wants."

"All right." Aurora did not object.

She added, "I'll also write to some people and ask about the dream you described, to see what those things actually represent."

At this point, she glanced at Lumian's suddenly anxious expression and broke into a smile. "Don't worry. I'll disguise some details, and I won't reveal everything at once. I'm the one who taught you to take things step by step.

"Also, when you talk to that lady, don't push too hard. Try to stay friendly. That doesn't mean we're afraid of her, just that another friend is better than another enemy."

"No problem." Lumian solemnly agreed.

Cordu, the old tavern.

As soon as Lumian approached the bar, he asked the tavern owner, Maurice Béné, who also served as bartender, "Which room upstairs is that woman from out of town staying in?"

The old tavern was also the village's only inn, with six rooms available on the second floor.

Maurice Béné was neither fat nor burly. Like most villagers, he had black hair and blue eyes. His most distinctive feature was his perpetually red nose, a consequence of frequent drinking.

He was a relative of the parish priest, Guillaume Béné, but they were not close, being distant cousins.

"Why do you want to know?" Maurice Béné asked curiously. "Would a woman from a big city like that take an interest in a country bumpkin like you?"

His face openly displayed his curiosity. He took a keen interest in illicit relationships between men and women.

"Aren't you a barefoot country bumpkin yourself?" Lumian scoffed, then casually invented an excuse. "That woman lost something last night. I found it this morning and came to return it."

"Really?" Maurice Béné doubted Lumian's credibility.

Eight out of every ten things this fellow said were made up.

"What else? You think she'd fancy me?" Lumian replied with complete confidence.

"True enough." Maurice Béné was convinced. "She's in the room closest to the square, opposite the washroom."

After watching Lumian head toward the stairs, the tavern owner muttered while wiping a glass:

"Well, it's not impossible. Sometimes people want to try something different..."

He spoke just loudly enough for Lumian to hear.

On the tavern's second floor, Lumian found the only washroom along the dim corridor. He then noticed a white paper sign hanging from the brass handle of the dark red wooden door opposite.

Written on it in Intis were the words: "Resting.

"Do not disturb."

Lumian lowered his gaze and studied it for a few seconds. Rather than rush forward to knock, he stepped back twice and leaned against the wall.

He intended to wait here until the lady came out.

His former life as a vagrant had taught him that when an opportunity appeared, he had to act with absolute decisiveness and do everything he could to seize it. He could not hesitate, overthink, worry about saving face, or give in to cowardice. Otherwise, the opportunity would inevitably slip away, and he would fall into an even more miserable vicious cycle. When no opportunity appeared, however, he had to be patient, persevere, and suppress every discomfort as he waited.

Minute after minute passed, and Lumian stood there without the slightest impatience.

Had anyone been watching, they might have mistaken him for a statue, if not for the occasional movement of his hands or feet.

Finally, the door creaked open.

The lady had changed into a light green dress with white trim, her brown hair loosely gathered behind her head.

She swept her pale blue eyes over Lumian for a second, then looked down at the paper sign on the door handle and asked with a smile, "How long have you been waiting?"

She was not at all surprised to find Lumian here.

Lumian stepped forward. "That doesn't matter."

He tried to keep his tone calm and avoid sounding too eager.

"What would you like to ask?" the lady said quite directly.

"Right here?" Lumian glanced to either side.

The lady replied with a smile, "If you don't mind, neither do I."

Lumian had actually already checked. Ryan, Lya, and the others who were also staying here seemed to be out. There was nobody on the tavern's second floor besides him and the lady before him.

He gathered his words. "What secret is hidden in that dream?"

The lady laughed involuntarily. "That's something you should answer, not ask me."

She paused, then added, "All I can tell you is that you can obtain certain supernatural powers there."

Supernatural powers... Lumian's heart stirred, but then he asked in confusion, "What use are supernatural powers obtained in a dream?

"They won't affect reality."

The lady smiled.

"In the supernatural realm, anything is possible.

"Perhaps they really can affect it?"

The supernatural powers I've been searching so desperately for have entered my life in this way? Lumian fell silent.

The lady's smile faded, and she added solemnly, "I must warn you: that place is full of danger. If you die there, you will die for good."

An accident while exploring that dream could kill me in reality too? Lumian could not understand it, but he chose to believe her.

For one thing, the gray-mist dream that had troubled him for years did indeed seem unusual. For another, his sister Aurora had told him that there was no harm in being careful. It was better to regard a problem as more difficult and its consequences as more severe than to underestimate it or grow careless.

After a few seconds, he asked, "What happens if I don't explore it?"

"Theoretically, nothing. Nobody is forcing you." The lady thought for a moment. "But I'm not certain whether it will change over time. And if it does change, it's far more likely to get worse than better."

"How much more likely?" Lumian pressed. "Ninety percent versus ten percent?"

"No, 99.99 percent versus 0.01 percent." The lady added precisely, "Of course, that's only my personal assessment. You're free not to believe it."

Lumian immediately became conflicted, thoughts surging through his mind:

Lately, I've increasingly felt that this dream is a hidden danger. Leaving it alone is the worst choice...

But if I really explore it without knowing anything, the chances of an accident are very high...

Should I wait until Aurora gets some information from her pen pals before trying?

But then Aurora definitely won't agree to let me use exploring the dream as a chance to obtain supernatural powers...

Isn't seeking supernatural powers the whole reason I've been investigating the truth behind those legends...?

It's too dangerous. I really could die...

What if I just do some preliminary exploration around the edge of the dream's ruins, without risking going deeper? That would count as gathering information too...

Hmm, I can tell Aurora about that conversation, but I can't mention the possibility of obtaining supernatural powers...

Once these thoughts settled, Lumian looked at the lady opposite him and asked in a low voice, "Who exactly are you?

"Why did you give me that tarot card, and why did you give me the chance to explore that dream?"

The lady smiled faintly.

"I'll tell you once you've unraveled the secret of the dream."