Chapter 20: Infusing Fear

...

The terrifying stench of the fog had returned to her dream. It had no purpose, no direction, and was impossible to communicate with—just slowly creeping forward day after day, digesting the crazy monsters that emerged from her dreams. However, for some unknown reason, the thought of her father and mother, who had walked out of her dreams, being eaten bit by bit made her heart race with excitement. Of course, she never thought that her parents' real souls had long been devoured by that demon.

Ah, that cowardly demon, before the cultists threw her and her house into this fog-shrouded city, it had already fled in fear, truly pathetic.

Perhaps it was scared away by the deity behind the cultists?

She repeatedly scanned the house with the eyes that cover the whole the corridors, but saw no intruders, her palms constantly clenching and releasing.—The two invaders had disappeared again, along with the little girl she had prepared as a spare body.

This was not good news.

Viola was important, very important—she could see that the little girl's body had excellent talent for magic.

There were still half a month before the door connecting to the real world would open. She had already determined the location where the door would open—a door that would directly connect to the real world. The only problem was that this body could not leave the room. As for the reason, she was the Master of the house, also chosen by the Moon Goddess... but she would rather not have been chosen. The consequence of being chosen was being thrown into the city by the cultists, becoming one of the sources of bound dreams.

This room was a cage, unless she was willing to give up this body, give up her magic.

—But what is so hard about giving up?

She had never received any systematic magic education, nor had she ever left this home. All her knowledge came from that cowardly demon, scared away by the followers of the Moon Goddess—or the controller of this dream city—after being thrown into this city, she couldn't even leave this room.

If she hadn't been in this so-called City of Tormentors, she would have already taken over the little girl's body and left.

But now... change into the little girl's body and walk out to die? Please, this wasn't the real world.

Only half a month away, only half a month and she could change body and escape to the real world, but just at this time, her one-legged bird had brought in two wizards!?

And they were a pair of disgusting man and woman, just like her father and mother... so where exactly were they now?

Then, as if in response to her question, she heard a sharp scraping sound.

The door was suddenly pushed open, revealing a void of black behind it, like a black pillar.

The world behind the door was the dream that flowed out of her.

The door opened?

She thought for a while, who would open the door...

Breath of Hood, those two wizards!

Then she heard a whisper more filthy than the creatures in her dreams...

A force not of this world wrapped around like the tentacles of a giant octopus. The bed, the floor, and the quilt began to twist, like a twisted rag, the air seemed to be breaking.

She raised her right hand, emitting a low, rhythmic buzzing sound, the black fog emanating from her body curled and spread, struggling to tear open those invisible restraints—

At that moment, a transparent long sword pierced her eye socket, pus sprayed out, blood splattered on the transparent figure. Her eyes emitted thick smoke, burning, charred, with hundreds of piercing screams shooting out, almost drowning out the whispers...

...

The purple-haired little girl—no, seen through spiritual vision, a monster filled with gray-black dead spirits under the skin—manipulated the black fog spilling out of her body to wreak havoc everywhere.

The Inquisitor's enchanted long sword attack turned her into a blind beast. The thick black fog of madness condensed, spread, condensed again, tearing apart the walls, flattening the furniture, lifting the ceiling into the sky, as if this room was just a pile of sand.

The door shattered, the black canvas eroded this small room, causing everything inside to lose color.

A group of out-of-control black creatures thrown out by the dark wizard—the Formless Spawn—deformed in the sweeping fog.

They flowed over the black fog like liquid, and in an instant—from inconspicuous black, fat, and ugly toad-like objects—twisted into black demons with hundred of atrophied limbs extending nearly ten-meter-long: a total seven of them, with a fierce whistling sound, their densely packed tentacles lashed at the purple-haired thing, along with the Inquisitor standing beside her.

The hurricane struck Jeanne's protective shield like a hammer hitting a rock, pulling at her skin, almost shaking her facial muscles to the point of soreness. The rustling and whistling sounds filled her mind, the pervasive black fog and the whipping black tentacles almost made her feel like she had fallen into a dark mollusk nest.

The current level of the dark wizard's concealment spell was not very high, so it quickly failed in this battle. But at least she had used it to get off to a good start—in absolute silence and invisibility—the hole in that thing's eye could prove it all.

An outsider without systematic education would naturally lack the means to counteract specific spells.

Straining to maintain her consciousness, she tried to observe the gaps in this chaotic battlefield—she didn't know why the Dark wizard had asked her to eliminate the dead spirits around that monster's eyes.

The sticky, soft, and muddy creatures that were constantly deforming and tearing in the black fog poured out fierce whirlwinds, their tentacles whipping the ground like ten times magnified horsewhips, tearing at the black fog-covered plain, the shattered floor rolling into the fog and being torn apart like flying dust. The things thrown out by the Dark wizard kept changing shape, even kneading themselves into a boulder-like object to smash over, then when being wrapped and bitten by the thick black fog, quickly reassembling and regaining their shape. The violent impacts made the ground a heaving deck while the fragments of the walls roaring into the sky like light paper pages.

Another black whip struck her shield, the sharp friction echoing painfully in her mind. Jeanne cursed and turned to run.

...

Good, most of the dead spirits around her soul that could cause interference—were burned away by the Inquisitor's sword.

Salser used spiritual vision to find an opening and recited a spell towards the empty eye sockets under the flying purple hair, a silent invisible wave pierced through the fog, directly flying into her eyes. Under this wave, there was no physical damage, no burning of the soul, but she let out an extremely piercing scream—as if the emotion of fear directly surged out in her soul—victims who first encountered the 'Infusing fear' spell were all like this.

At the same time, the tentacles of Formless spawns passed through the almost uncontrollable black fog, and fiercely whipped her, sending this body flying like a paper page towards the black sky, but was pulled back as if touching an invisible restraint.

—The restraint of the gods.

—An even more piercing crushing sound.

The black fog began to impact everything within a range of dozens of meters, pressing the formless spawn's body into sticky liquid droplets. The substance that made up this world began to shatter, like wheat grains thrown into a millstone, flying and scattering in the hurricane, like the clothes falling off a lover. Everything here responded to the control of the purple-haired little girl.

A wild wizard without systematic education—or some kind of funny thing like a natural-born witch?—they are always so stupid.

Salser stood emotionlessly in the distance, and another wave of infusing fear shot over.

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