Chapter 18: The Gap Between Dream and Reality

Jeanne lifted her eyes and glared at him, the sword pressed against his neck, unmoving. Her light golden pupils seemed like two burning coals, emitting a scorching gaze that could reduce a person to ashes. She didn't speak—there was no need to, as her terrifying gaze said it all.

"Very well, I was merely jesting," the Dark wizard said, raising his hands in surrender.

Jeanne snorted and sheathed her sword.

"If you die here, I will commemorate you with your real name," she said calmly.

That remark seems to imply my imminent demise; does she replace her guardian knights so quickly? Salser thought, rolling his eyes. "Could you perhaps offer a more optimistic statement, Miss Jeanne?" 

"No blessings, Dark wizard," Jeanne looked at him, her deep breathing condensed on her pale lips, "Before every mission, I prepare to give my life, even if it means my soul is burned to ashes."

"Soul burned to ashes..." Salser was stunned. Apart from fighting as enemies, he hadn't really interacted with the people of the Holy Cross Church, especially the Inquisitors who were rarely seen.

"Do you not anticipate salvation and miracles following death?" he asked curiously.

Jeanne's expression gradually calmed.

"If faith's gotta be affirmed by miracles and salvation, then that faith's just like a dog begging for its master's scraps," she said, her eyes showing no emotion.

"That doesn't sound like something you would say given your age and experience," he pointed out directly.

"...You're right."

Jeanne, looking displeased, shifted her gaze, but didn't deny it.

The Dark wizard silently watched her for a while, then dropped the subject and turned his attention back to Viola's movements.

The black cat had entered the shadow connecting to the hall, like walking into a upright lake. The shadow trembled slightly as the cat's body disappeared into it, its surface rippling faintly. Salser also bent down.

Behind them in the hall, more and more people began to spin.

Everyone sang the nursery rhyme in sharp, hoarse tones, then danced even more wildly. In the center of the spinning circle, the old master of the house occasionally stopped to wave his hand. With each wave, the dancers spun faster and let out even more inhuman screams.

—Dance, jump,

—Fly out of the castle, out of the cell,

—Fly out of the prison that holds us!

...

"After we take care of the Master of the house, I'm gonna torch everything in this hall," Jeanne said after resolving the previous conflict. Her expression grew increasingly grim as the song continued. Impatiently tapping the hilt of her sword, she scanned the dancing figures with extreme distaste, "There's gotta be a limit to how damn disgusting this can get. Though I ain't expecting to wipe out all this filth, at least while I'm around... these sickening things should be thoroughly purified."

Salser ignored her complaints, simply bending down and squinting at the black fog in front of him—the cat had disappeared. To the naked eye, the fog continued to display the corridor. The magical lines detecting air currents passed through the fog, linking to the identical corridor, not the location the cat had entered. Shaking his head, he crossed the shadow marking the boundary between the corridor and the hall, and the darkness enveloped him, embracing the Dark wizard's body.

Then, the world around them completely changed.

Colors were erased, leaving only simple lines, everything was painted on the dark, blurry fog.—Some paintings look like this when the artist has just sketched the lines and hasn't had time to color them. The sound from the hall suddenly slowed down, stretched out, and distorted, like a falling person disappearing into the abyss with their scream. Silence gradually descended, leaving only barely audible laughter, shouts, and songs—very faint, like distant ocean waves hitting the bottom of a cliff.

On this black canvas, Jeanne, depicted in white lines, also stood up.

Apart from the small, crawl-through entrance, behind the Inquisitor's back was only endless black fog.

Nothingness.

Perhaps this place was closer to the dream.

"There are some strange things in the fog," Viola stopped in front of him, the black cat's eyes outlined in white lines staring at the dark wizard, simply stating its usual memories, "Some may be hostile, some may not, but those things are not controlled by Master, most of them just wander aimlessly. But if any of them successfully come under Master's control, they will move from the fog towards a certain location, and finally enter the house in a place I have never seen."

"This place is really bizarre," Jeanne looked up and down at Salser, depicted in white lines, she frowned, and then lowered her head to ask Viola, "According to your statement, did those things we encountered earlier also come out from here?"

"No..." the cat replied to her, "They are outsiders who fell into this place, because my father is among them. Those transparent things and the dolls are the ones that walked out from here."

"......Sorry."

"You actually say 'sorry'," Salser shook his head, his tone teasing, "I thought you always wore that sour face of your."

"Hmph... it's just the teachings of the Lord," Jeanne glanced at him with a faint cold smile, "I can distinguish who deserves kindness and who deserves death."

...

They continued to follow Viola.

This was a wetland, with white lines of varying thickness outlining large and small puddles scattered on the dark, damp ground, like hanging ropes sprinkled in a black pool. The shallowest puddles just covered the soles of the feet, while the deepest ones would submerge the knees. Occasionally, a few lotus leaves floated on the water, carrying a few drops of dew, with flat faces motionless at the tips of the thin stems. All was silent, even the faces, outlined by the rough lines, closed their eyes, as if in deep sleep.

"Have you read Alice in Wonderland?"

Salser was bored. He had thought they would meet the Master of the house immediately, but the path turned out to be much longer than expected.

"Dark wizard, I thought I told you I can't read," Jeanne spat, "Are you trying to provoke me?"

"Didn't your parents tell you stories when you were little?" he asked without thinking.

"Are you kidding?" Jeanne glared at him unhappily, her expression very unfriendly, "When I should've been learning to read, they got sucked into a cult and nearly roasted me alive along with them. You think my parents ever bothered to tell me stories?"

"Oh... sorry." The dark wizard shrugged, now he felt it was better to end this topic.

Jeanne clicked her tongue, but said nothing more.

They continued to walk towards the endless horizon. The sky was also dark, seamlessly connected to the ground like a flat canvas, making it difficult to discern direction.

From a very shallow puddle came the sounds of wailing, cursing, and mournful low moans. They had just passed that pool, which was so shallow it didn't even reach the soles of their feet. A few white lines outlined splashes of water, from which emerged a adult woman thin like a bamboo pole. Her face had no pupils, just empty black eye sockets, with two lines under her eyes, unclear whether they were blood or tears. They had seen this woman—she was the pregnant one in the hall earlier.

She slowly crawled out of the puddle, her leg cut off from the knees, only two bare thighs sticking to the ground. Her ten fingers dug into the wetland trying to move forward, but they sank deeply into the soft mud, filled with mud under her nails, unable to move.

The Dark wizard casually threw a very weak ray.

The ray passed directly through the woman and then into the puddle, as if the beam had passed through a piece of glass.

"...This thing has no soul," Salser said, "Perhaps it's just an anomaly in the dream."

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