The wavering space projected a scene as if reflected upon the surface of water.
Ludger’s eyes widened.
“This is...”
“You must have seen this once before if you came to ask me about it, right?”
Ludger gave a slight nod.
The landscape around him was the fragmented vision he had glimpsed through the shard of the Relic.
The depths of Dreamland.
It wasn’t exactly the same as what he had seen back then.
From the way the colors here bled into each other in patchy distortion, it seemed this landscape changed frequently.
But with plains, forests, and deserts scattered together, ruined relics standing amidst them, and the sky painted in countless hues—
There was no mistaking it as anywhere else.
A question rose within Ludger.
“I heard only one person has ever witnessed this view. How can you replicate it so precisely? Unless...”
“You mean to say perhaps I have personally been to the depths of Dreamland?”
“It is crafted with such refinement one can hardly think otherwise.”
“Hohoho. That would make sense. But once you learn a little more about dreams, you’ll quickly realize it isn’t so. Come, let us walk.”
Clara tapped her staff as she moved forward.
Ludger followed after her.
Together they walked through the space modeled after Dreamland’s depths.
Though it was only a copy, Ludger tried to imprint every detail into his eyes.
‘How strange.’
This was a kind of magic that drew a dream into reality, shaping it into partial form.
And yet the sensations felt so vivid, as if they were real.
In dreams, the senses were not so easily separated, and when he first entered this place, his senses had tangled and overlapped.
It was difficult to tell what was dream and what was reality.
This place was both reality and dream.
Both, and yet neither.
“You seem confused.”
“...”
“You wonder whether this is dream or reality, don’t you?”
Even without turning her head, Clara knew what he was thinking.
He gave no answer, but his silence was a tacit confirmation.
As if expecting it, Clara replied.
“Everyone thinks the same. My chamber is unlike ordinary reality. But unlike most, you are rather calm. Instead of panicking, you’re trying to analyze where this place belongs.”
“Because it’s also where I must go.”
“But is that so important? Dream or reality—it doesn’t matter. The only truth is what you see before your eyes, right now, in this moment.”
Her voice carried a depth of wisdom impossible to measure.
And it confirmed that this space was anything but ordinary.
“Right now, this moment is the only truth...”
Ludger murmured her words.
They left the misty, dreamlike forest and emerged onto a sandy shore.
Beyond golden dunes, the sky was still filled with stars.
The Milky Way glowed in strokes of violet, indigo, and pink, a painting of splendor.
They climbed the dune as though standing in the heart of a desert at dawn.
Shhhhhh.
The wind blew, shifting the ridges of sand.
The desert moved like waves.
Among the shifting sea of sand, ancient statues appeared here and there.
Ruins.
Half-collapsed stone pillars, arches worn away by storms, domes riddled with holes.
How could such structures exist within a dream? It defied all sense.
“Isn’t it curious? Dreamland is the land of dreams, yet ruins such as these exist within it.”
“Is it because of the influence of the unconscious?”
“That is what we assume. The established theory is that Dreamland came into being the moment humans began to dream.”
“I’ve heard of its origins. That when the first humans capable of thought appeared, and began to separate consciousness from unconsciousness, Dreamland was born.”
“Exactly like sediment gathering at a river’s mouth. Through flowing years and history, countless lives are born and die. And in the process, a world is built, grain by grain, like deposits of sand.”
Dreamland, in the end, was a massive world built from the thoughts of all humanity.
That was why, no matter how different people’s dreams were, they could enter the same Dreamland.
It was the unification of the collective human mind.
Even the stars scattered across the sky above them—
Those were nothing less than the dreams of sleeping people given form.
Clara continued.
“But Dreamland was not created by humans alone. After all, humans are not the only ones who dream.”
“You mean other races.”
“They dream too. Even speechless beasts dream. So you see, perhaps Dreamland did not originate with humankind at all. It may have existed long before, and humans were simply the first to discover it.”
How many dunes did they cross before the scene opened into vast grasslands?
“That is a fascinating theory. But I didn’t come here to learn the origin of Dreamland.”
“Indeed. You came to ask how to reach the depths.”
Though his tone could have been seen as rude, Clara accepted it with a laugh.
At the front, she stopped walking.
Ludger halted as well.
“Do you recall what I said earlier? That in this world lies a being that must never be awakened.”
“Yes. You did.”
“That is it.”
Her gaze turned forward.
Following it, Ludger also saw something beyond the field.
A massive structure.
And at once, he recalled the words Marias Selmore had told him.
“That is...”
A colossal monolith standing alone in the depths of Dreamland.
Unlike the other ruins, its smooth surface had endured the ravages of time.
Black as pitch, with lines of green light seeping from its carved patterns—it was clearly no ordinary structure.
“What is that?”
“I call it a Stake.”
“A stake?”
The word made a strange sort of sense, but also raised another question.
“Stakes are usually used to hold something down, aren’t they?”
“Exactly. To fix something in place, so it cannot move.”
Clara resumed walking.
Heading toward the Stake, Ludger followed naturally.
“Are you saying something is beneath it? The very thing you mentioned, the one that must never open its eyes?”
“You grasp quickly.”
“It is strange then. What is that being, and who drove the Stake into it?”
“That is the question we must unravel.”
The towering Stake loomed closer.
It had seemed enormous from afar, but up close its size was overwhelming.
Comparable even to the World Tree.
No matter how he craned his neck, Ludger couldn’t see the top.
Yet his gaze fell not upward, but downward.
At the base of the immense Stake.
For something was impaled there.
“That is...”
Ludger’s voice carried wariness.
“What is that?”
Even he, who had seen so much, could not help but ask.
For the thing had no distinct form.
“I don’t know either. I only know it is something very dangerous.”
Beneath the Stake, something black and shapeless was pinned.
It was neither solid nor liquid, like sludge mixed with filth.
If a child had scooped sewage muck and clumped it together, it might look like this.
It seemed like if touched, it would squirm.
Its dark surface was streaked with grotesquely mingling colors, like oil on water.
“Don’t worry. Ever since it was discovered, it has remained asleep. Or perhaps sealed would be the better word.”
It lay bound beneath the Stake, unformed, slumbering.
“Have you heard of the first Dreamwalker who entered the depths?”
“...Yes. He said he saw something immense there.”
“Correct. What you see is the landscape he witnessed.”
“If this was brought from then...”
“It’s already been decades.”
Her voice carried a longing sorrow for the past.
“The name of the mage who entered Dreamland’s depths was Nathanael. He was once the head of the Dream School. ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) And my husband.”
“...He is the one who saw all this?”
“Yes. This is his last legacy. And his warning—that no one should ever enter the depths.”
Ludger nodded.
But he wondered: why did Nathanael seek the depths?
Marias Selmore had said it was to explore a new world.
But was that truly the reason?
“Why tell me all this if it is so dangerous?”
“Because I thought, perhaps if I tell you, you would abandon it and turn back?”
Clara chuckled softly.
“Child, I know even if I show you this, you will not stop. I can see it—you resemble Nathanael. Those like him always make the same choice. Even if it leads to ruin, they go on.”
She turned her gaze fully on Ludger.
Her eyes held the clarity of one who completely understood him.
“Am I wrong?”
“...”
“You are shy. Nathanael would have laughed boldly and admitted it. That’s the difference between you two.”
“I am not him.”
“Of course.”
Her eyes shifted back to the massive Stake.
“There are many Dreamwalkers in our school. All excellent mages. Recently, our youngest, Julia, has shown remarkable promise. She may well be the next Master soon.”
“Yes. I have heard.”
“But there was once another, expected even more than Julia. Young, brilliant, overflowing with talent.”
“Another one?”
“His name was Franz. He was our adopted son—mine and Nathanael’s. Once the most promising Dreamwalker.”
Franz?
A name Ludger had never heard before.
Yet he could already guess who it might be.
“He wanted to study the depths that drove his father mad. When I forbade it, he left the Dream School and continued his research alone.”
“Meaning Franz is still pursuing the depths now?”
“Yes. And one day, he will dive into it.”
“Do you want me to stop him?”
“How could an old woman force a young man’s path? No. I only wish, if it must happen, that someone else go in his place.”
“You are harsher than I expected.”
“You wish to go in, and I wish for another to go instead of Franz. Could there be conditions more perfectly aligned?”
Ludger stared at the Stake.
Clara’s Franz must be that man who stood beside Zero Order.
To explore the depths of Dreamland, he allied with Zero Order and built dwellings in the surface world using dream magic.
‘So his goal is Dreamland too.’
If Zero Order is supporting him, then surely they also seek something there.
What is it they want?
Could it be related to what Ludger himself is searching for?
‘Could this really be coincidence?’
Just then, Ludger saw it.
“Hm?”
The formless thing bound beneath the Stake twitched.
“Did that... just move?”
“Move?”
Clara’s tone was puzzled.
“Impossible. It has always slept. I’ve watched this scene many times, and it has never stirred. Besides, this is just a reproduction of what was recorded long ago.”
It was Nathanael’s dream, replayed by her magic.
No different from watching a videotape of the past.
Clara insisted it had never moved.
Therefore it should not move.
“But just now...”
Yet Ludger had clearly seen it twitch.
And again—
Bloorp.
The shapeless mass bubbled, its surface swelling with boils.
From its bursting bubbles, something emerged.
Eyes.
Dozens upon dozens of eyes of varying sizes, swiveling, scanning—
Then locking all at once on Ludger.
“...”
“...”
Both Clara and Ludger were struck speechless.
It was too sudden, too incomprehensible.
And then—
A sharp pain stabbed into Ludger’s skull.
“Kh!”
He clutched his head instinctively.
────! ──! ─────!!!
With earsplitting tinnitus, a voice resounded within his mind.
A voice that should have been impossible to hear through the seal.
