prynovel Chapter 260 In a Dream
Chapter 260 In a Dream
Chapter 260 In a Dream
Inside the hotel below, swirling, chilling winds suddenly surged, like a pair of unseen giant hands gathering the drawings in the wind together and tearing them to shreds.
Coming to his senses from the repeated control, the leader of the punishers, his face pale, looked at the figure floating outside the window.
Lord Neptune...
Arne Courtman raised his hand to interrupt him:
"Let's move on to the next task."
"yes!"
The substitutes in the room all punched their left chests with their right fists.
In the harbor of Bansi Island, in the cabins of a ship that had just docked at dusk.
Countless tiny starlight burst forth from the void, rapidly weaving and outlining the shape of an illusory gate.
Then, Cyril led Randolph out from behind the "door".
In the painting held by Randolph, Steve appears to have collapsed, exhausted.
"Phew~, I'm alive again."
Randolph tossed the painting aside, looked at Cyril, and asked curiously:
"Even if you heard my prayer, you shouldn't be able to get here so quickly, right?"
"It's an astrological intuition, but it's still a bit late," Sirion explained simply.
Randolph nodded, then said:
Hermes said the Lord of Storms cast his gaze, and your intuition may have been disturbed by him.
He paused for a moment, then asked, "Are you planning to take me back?"
Cyril nodded: "Yeah, things won't be peaceful here from now on. I'm afraid you might accidentally die, which would affect my digestion progress!"
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Cyril raised his hand and patted his shoulder, comforting him:
"Don't worry, once we get to other places, I'll let you come out again."
Randolph: "You're just exploiting your clones."
"Moreover, when you separate this identity later, although he will still be Randolph Carter, he will no longer be the person he is now."
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After a brief silence, Cyril looked at his clone with surprise:
"While I know these separated identities represent living, breathing people, aren't you being a little too autonomous?"
Randolph smiled and said in a suggestive tone:
"We are special."
"Have you forgotten? When I saw them, the flowers were in full bloom; when I no longer saw them, both the flowers and my heart were desolate."
"The 'Looker-Down One' possesses the power to reverse falsehood and reality. Although we are far from having His power, under His influence, we can still experience wondrous changes. Like now, I am not just your alter ego, but the real, living Randolph Carter!"
Cyril nodded thoughtfully, then popped a gold coin out with a clang.
After confirming there was no danger, he took out the harmonica that could summon messengers, brought it to his lips, and blew it forcefully.
Invisible ripples spread out, and a few seconds later, Erdfana, who was gray-white all over but had bright, pale gold eyes and a withered appearance, appeared in the room.
Seeing that Erdfana didn't try to diminish her presence this time, Cyril raised an eyebrow slightly and then politely said:
"Could you please retrieve this clone for me?"
"It's very simple."
Erdfana nodded slightly, his pale gold eyes looking at Randolph Carter, who stood quietly to the side.
Immediately, Randolph Carter's figure faded rapidly, like a reflection in water, rippling with the air currents, before being drawn by an invisible force towards Sirion, completely merging into his body.
The moment Randolph Carter reappeared, Cyril's mind was filled with monotonous memories of the past few days.
At the same time, he also sensed the traces of the "Record Officer" potion being digested within his body, as well as a vague but subtle connection coming from a very far place.
Someone has drawn a portrait of Randolph Carter!
But not in Bansi, but... in that direction, towards the Roside Islands, or closer to Tiana Island.
Although it could be vaguely sensed, this subtle connection was too blurry to interfere with at all, and it was even impossible to obtain information from it.
However, the identity of Randolph Carter seems to belong entirely to me now.
Because he once truly existed and left real and valid traces in this world, but now he has returned to me, so does that mean he is directly equated with me in one step?
Wouldn't that mean that with the help of the "Dream Weaver," I could keep repeating this process and create a bunch of identities that I could change at will?
Hmm... it doesn't seem necessary, and it might have the same hidden dangers as the "Faceless Man".
I can be anyone, but I can only be myself.
Composing himself, he looked at Erdfana again:
"Could you do me another favor?"
"I'll go to sleep on my own in a bit, and then you'll enter my dream, waiting for a guest who might come to visit?"
"This doesn't sound like how you greet guests."
Erdfana's withered face twitched twice, but he did not refuse his request.
Then Cyril took out the "Red Priest" card, infused it with spirituality to activate it, and then lay down on the bed to quickly fall asleep through meditation.
Seeing this, Erdfana took a step forward, his figure silently becoming transparent and dissolving into the air.
At a small round table not far away, Steve, depicted in a painting, gazed resentfully at the ceiling directly opposite the painting and muttered softly:
"I am clearly the Lord's most faithful servant, so why am I always ignored and forgotten..."
While fast asleep, Cyril's face suddenly turned bright red, his expression contorted in pain, yet his body remained motionless and he did not wake up.
In the crimson dream, Cyril looked around with blank, panicked, and fearful eyes. No matter which direction he looked, everything around him was a crimson expanse, as if he were trapped in a sea of fire, and even his body was becoming hot.
He tried to escape, but no matter how hard he tried, he just kept going in circles.
It seemed as if a mysterious force had imprisoned him here, and the more he struggled, the more this force dragged him deeper into the mire.
He didn't know how much time had passed, but when he was about to collapse from exhaustion, his vision was suddenly covered by a layer of splashed blood, and a strong smell of gunpowder filled his nostrils, and his thoughts gradually became blurred.
After his mental state plummeted to a certain limit, he suddenly regained his senses as if he had hit rock bottom.
The bloodstains faded, the pungent smell of gunpowder in my nostrils disappeared, and the surroundings were no longer a sea of red, but charred black from being scorched by a fire.
A layer of dark, murky mist enveloped the area, resembling a bottomless night.
Directly in front of him stood a giant of red flames, nearly a hundred meters tall, standing quietly.
It has many black cracks on its body, like wood that is about to burn out.
From those cracks that were subtly contracting and expanding, large amounts of blood-red, magma-like pale yellow pus kept slipping out.
They burst forth in mid-air and on the ground, unleashing bursts of blackish-purple flames, as well as strange weather phenomena such as lightning, hail, and fog.
"Come see...me!"
"Come...kill me!"
Intermittent, muffled, and hoarse voices came from the fire giant's mouth.
With each word it uttered, the cracks on its body widened, making one wonder if its entire body would collapse if it spoke a few more words.
Cyril frowned, did not answer, but looked up at the sky shrouded in a dark, misty haze.
A gray-white, swirling dragon with a lizard-like face that exuded obvious signs of age appeared in the sky above this place at some unknown time.
He looked down with disdain at the scorched ground below and the fiery giant that looked like it could collapse at any moment.
The roar of a dragon, deep and powerful, resounded, capable of shaking the very soul.
In an instant, bright but not dazzling sunlight appeared out of nowhere, dispelling all the darkness and illuminating the surroundings.
Then the ground trembled, and with a rumbling sound, thick, gray-white marble pillars with intricate and ancient patterns carved on their surfaces rose from the ground.
The originally charred ground has been transformed into a clean floor that appears to be paved with a single piece of gray-white marble, with carved patterns.
The dark, murky mist around them turned into a thin cloud, through which the slender figure of a giant dragon could be seen flying by from time to time.
Cyril found himself in an incredibly vast, gray-white plaza, with interconnected pathways and, in the distance, buildings that resembled both palaces and temples.
It's like a city floating in the sky, or a temple with a somewhat unconventional aesthetic.
Livihed, the "City of Miracles"!
The name suddenly popped into Cyril's mind.
The next second, a series of roars brought him back to his senses.
He noticed that on the stone pillars surrounding the square, there were now giant dragons, some grayish-white, some brass, and some bluish-black, all gleaming with a metallic sheen.
They all looked toward the fire giant in the center of the square, at which it seemed out of place, and let out roars that were sometimes high-pitched and sometimes low-pitched.
The once imposing fire giant suddenly cowered, seemingly gripped by some indescribable fear.
Are fire giants considered giants?
As soon as this thought flashed through Sirion's mind, the next second, all the dragons on the surrounding stone pillars suddenly fell silent.
Then a shadow fell over the fire giant, accompanied by a growing whooshing sound.
boom!
Amidst the deafening roar, Cyril felt the entire city beneath his feet tremble.
As a faint cloud of dust cleared, Cyril finally saw the enormous shadow descending rapidly from the sky.
It was a grayish-white dragon that was much larger than any other dragon!
Its eyes are pale gold with vertical pupils, and it has two grayish-white, skin-covered wings on its back. The grayish-white scales on its surface are engraved with complex and three-dimensional mysterious symbols.
The fire giant was pinned under its feet, frozen in place as if petrified.
Upon closer inspection, one could see a surge of extreme, somber, and negative emotions within the fire giant's crimson eyes. It seemed that Ping was completely overwhelmed by the shock and could hardly control himself.
"Dreams are also part of the realm of the mind, and in the realm of the mind, no extraordinary or mythical creature can compare to a dragon."
Erdfanar, still in his dragon form, silently landed beside Cyril. His lips remained closed, yet his voice rang out unimpeded in the surrounding area:
"This unfortunate weather sorcerer" is too severely corrupted; his body, mind, and extraordinary characteristics are possessed by another consciousness, and he can only occasionally, for very brief moments, regain some of his self.
"To put it simply, he is beyond redemption."