“Declaration of war? Hahaha!”
At Zero Order’s proclamation, Nirva burst into {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} laughter as if genuinely amused.
“Your sense of humor has improved a lot since I last saw you. Well, I suppose that makes sense. You’ve always harbored a different intention from me, even among the Apostles.”
“Nonsense. You were the only one who held an intention different from the rest of us.”
The Apostles were not particularly close to one another.
That said, neither were they openly hostile toward each other.
The one and only exception was—
The very Nirva who had now caused this sleep plague incident.
“That’s a misleading way to put it. I, too, just like the rest of you, seek to restore a twisted world back to its rightful state.”
“Rightful? Am I misunderstanding the meaning of the word? Where exactly in this world is there anything rightful?”
“Even more than that. This place is the very cradle prepared to save all. Even the lowly ones who do not know the truth may still receive the Goddess’s grace.”
“And that so-called grace of yours means putting people into a slumber from which they will never wake?”
Nirva clasped his hands behind his back and nodded.
“The world of dreams is the place where everyone’s hope is realized. To live out one’s entire life there—if that isn’t grace, then what is?”
“That is nothing but escapism.”
“It can become reality. That is, once the Goddess awakens again.”
“The Goddess, is it.”
Zero Order turned his head, gazing at the enormous obelisk.
Beneath it was embedded the shapeless mass, sleeping still.
It looked like that now, but once, she had been one of the goddesses who bestowed dreams upon all beings.
Until her sovereignty was stolen by the High God, Lumenis.
“Not the kind of reaction I enjoy hearing.”
“Did I not tell you already? Making everyone live inside dreams is nothing more than escape from reality.”
“Or could it be that you’re merely jealous that I still have a Goddess?”
Nirva sneered at Zero Order.
“Which Apostles are left intact now? Only you, and the Dragon Princess. Isn’t that a pitiful sight. To be an Apostle, yet to have no god you serve. That makes you little different from the devils people call you.”
“What are you trying to say?”
“I wonder if the reason you seek to interfere with me isn’t because of your so-called grand cause, but rather for something far more personal.”
“You talk nonsense. Did sleeping too long rot your brain?”
“My mind is clearer and purer than ever. Sleep is my rest; the longer I sleep, the more normal I become.”
“The very fact you can say something like that proves how abnormal you are.”
Zero Order turned his back, unwilling to listen any longer.
After all, his true purpose was simply to declare war on Nirva and to check the state of the depths.
“Leaving already?”
“Why. Are you going to stop me?”
“Haha. Of course not. Why would I?”
Nirva’s voice brimmed with composure.
The confidence of one who believed he held all of this in the palm of his hand.
And indeed, Nirva had the right to such arrogance.
“When the Goddess awakens, by her authority every living thing on the continent will fall into slumber. Doesn’t it excite you? What kind of reaction do you think Lumenis will have, seeing all the little birds in his beautiful cage lying as if dead in sleep?”
“Who knows. One thing is certain though—what you’re doing is no different from what that bastard Lumenis does.”
“That is a rather intolerable insult.”
The moment Lumenis’s name was mentioned, a faint anger seeped from Nirva.
To Nirva, Lumenis was nothing but a usurper who had stolen the throne without right.
That arrogant god who turned the world into nothing more than his birdcage, his fish tank—simply because it pleased his view.
To compare himself, with his lofty will, to such a being?
Naturally, Nirva found it infuriating.
“You may disparage my will all you like. But to insult my Goddess—that I cannot overlook.”
Whoooosh—
Around Nirva, golden sand whipped up like a storm.
Even faced with that lethal sight, Zero Order did not flinch or cower.
Nirva clicked his tongue at such composure and withdrew his aura.
This was not the real Zero Order anyway.
Just a fragment, a mere projection sent below.
Destroying it here would be easy, but it would not touch the true body in the slightest.
“Very well. I’ll take your declaration of war to heart. But is that all you came to say? I am somewhat disappointed. I had expected you to descend in person.”
“There are plenty of others who wish to kill you besides me. I intend to support them in my own way.”
“Hahaha. Avoiding dirtying your own hands and handling matters slyly—same as ever, I see.”
“Think whatever you want.”
Zero Order turned to leave.
But Nirva’s voice followed after him.
“Did you know? Even when I sleep for long years, I can still sense the changes and flow of the outside world. Just by staying here in this dreamscape, information and knowledge of people come flowing in.”
“And what exactly are you getting at?”
“What I mean is this: ever since I first fell asleep until now, through all those countless years, I have observed the outside world.”
Zero Order turned his head back, meeting Nirva’s gaze.
Nirva grinned at him.
“I can more or less guess what your goal is.”
“......”
“But like a gentleman, I shall not go shouting it aloud. It matters little, for once my Goddess awakens, all such things will be meaningless. Still, I can give you one suggestion.”
“What suggestion?”
“If you join me, you too can obtain what you most desire in this world. What do you say? Does that not stir your interest?”
At that, Zero Order scoffed.
“Not in the slightest.”
Leaving only those words, he vanished in a green glow from the ring on his hand.
Nirva stared for a while at the empty space where Zero Order had been, then slumped down onto a conjured chair of golden sand.
“People who want to kill me, is it.”
If Zero Order went so far as to say that, then he must have gathered capable people.
How many they were, Nirva did not know. But he was certain of at least one.
“Ludger Cherish, was it.”
Through dreams, he had learned basic information about the man.
A skilled mage and teacher. A hidden powerhouse concealing his true nature.
But more than the surface, it was that brief moment when he had resisted divine authority itself that pricked at Nirva’s mind.
“He’s a bothersome one.”
If one had to name the greatest threat, it would be Ludger Cherish.
And Nirva was not one to take such matters lightly.
“Originally, I intended to bide my time and watch. But a little overreach should be fine.”
He snapped his fingers.
The sound was pitifully small and weak.
But above—what effect might it bring?
“A butterfly’s tiny flutter here shall become a storm raging above.”
From Nirva’s fingertips streamed golden currents, splitting into five as they drifted upward like smoke.
Creatures.
Descend below. And sink deeper still.
Only then will you face your true selves.
Only then shall you escape the profane world—
And belong to the eternal realm.
* * *
The Dreamwalkers appointed to the Emergency Disaster Countermeasure Unit swiftly prepared their spells.
“Do not approach this area.”
“That golden dust will soon expand in range. Approach, and it will only get harder for you—step back.”
The Dreamwalkers, once on duty, shed their usual lightness and moved with sharp precision.
Even for them, this was an unprecedented crisis they could not ignore.
Before matters grew any worse, they would have to commit the full strength of the Dream School to stop it.
“Preparations complete.”
The mages of the Dream School each took their positions upon the magic circle drawn on the floor.
They sat down, closed their eyes, and entered meditation.
“Keep your minds sharp.”
There was no reply to Clara’s words, but that silence alone was enough.
Clara Cowen stepped into the center of the circle and tapped her staff lightly against the floor.
Thud.
From the tip of her staff burst a wave of mana that fused into the circle, radiating a shimmering green light.
A single, completed magic circle.
Within it, the Dreamwalkers closed their eyes, their consciousness sinking downward, plunging into Dreamland.
The sensation was like diving beneath an endless sea of spirit.
Before long, the Dreamwalkers arrived at the upper layer of Dreamland.
The upper layer, the place of eternal night, was a realm familiar even to them.
But this time, not one of the Dreamwalkers could wear an easy expression.
“This is...”
“It’s worse than we imagined.”
All across the upper layer, holes gaped open as though gnawed through by rats.
Rumble.
A corner of a towering mountain collapsed, debris and gray smoke tumbling into the massive pit that yawned beneath it.
The sinkhole had already been immense, but now it was large enough to swallow an entire mountain whole.
“How could Dreamland have ended up like this...”
“The upper layer itself could not withstand the overload,” Zantman muttered.
Clara answered him.
“Too many people fell into the upper layer. The weight exceeded its natural limit, and it began to break apart.”
“Then doesn’t that mean the surface is in danger too?”
“Most likely. If the supporting pillar collapses, the ceiling will fall in an instant. Still...”
Clara frowned at the half-ruined landscape.
It shouldn’t have been this devastated merely because of an excess of people. Unless there was some other cause behind it.
‘That great tremor I saw in the dream that day. Was that the cause?’
Before Clara’s thought could settle, one of the Dreamwalkers cried out.
“Master! Survivors ahead!”
Looking where he pointed, they saw a group of people gathered in the distance.
The Dreamwalkers immediately approached them slowly.
“There are fewer people than expected,” Zantman remarked, puzzled at the small number.
If the entire population of Rederbelk had fallen into this place, it should have been hundreds of thousands.
Yet what they saw was fewer than a hundred thousand.
Still many, yes—but the difference between fifty or more tens of thousands and fewer than a hundred thousand was vast.
“Wh–who are you?”
A stout, middle-aged man pushed forward through the crowd.
Zantman stepped ahead.
“We are Dreamwalkers of the Dream School. We’ve come to resolve this crisis.”
At the word Dreamwalkers, relief washed over the man’s face.
“Haha! Thank the heavens! Then... does that mean we can escape this place?”
“That remains to be seen. And who are you? Are you the one in charge here?”
“Ahem. I am Hugo Burteg, instructor at Seorn Academy. Perhaps you’ve heard of me?”
He asked with a certain confidence—yet the answer that came back was far from satisfying.
“Never heard of you.”
“W–what? You mean you’ve never heard of House Burteg, a Marquess house?”
“Anyone know him?” Zantman asked the mages.
“Not me.”
“Where’s that?”
“Supposed to be famous?”
Then one mage exclaimed,
“Ah! He said Seorn!”
“Seorn? Isn’t that where our junior studies?”
“Right, then he’s a colleague of that Ludger Cherish fellow?”
“That must be it!”
At those words, Hugo’s expression twisted in humiliation.
They didn’t recognize the noble House of Burteg, yet at the name Seorn the first thing they thought of was Ludger Cherish?
‘That man... just how far does his reach go?!’
He felt his noble honor and pride smeared with mud.
Still, Hugo wasn’t stupid. This was not the time to throw a tantrum.
If these mages were truly Dreamwalkers as they said, they were the only ones who could get him out of this nightmare.
“So then, when will we be able to leave?”
“And where are the others?”
At Zantman’s question, Hugo blinked as though surprised they would ask.
But recognizing their high standing, he answered politely.
“They... fell into the holes that opened in the ground. They were swallowed below.”
“Holes, you say...”
“When the first hole opened, many vanished. After that, more appeared, larger each time. With earthquakes too. If we don’t get out soon, all of us will be swept away!”
There was some exaggeration in his words, but truth as well.
The Dreamwalkers exchanged grim looks.
If people had already been swept past the surface and even the upper layer, that meant half the city’s population had fallen below.
“They must have been dragged into the middle layer,” Clara said.
Her words stiffened the Dreamwalkers’ faces.
The middle layer of Dreamland was an environment beyond the capacity of ordinary humans to endure.
Of those who had fallen, how many could still be alive?
“You all heard,” Zantman said, gathering the situation.
“We’ll have to split up. If people have fallen into the middle layer, we can’t waste time standing here. Divide into teams and prepare to descend.”
At his words, the Dreamwalkers dropped heavy cases onto the ground with a thud.
Cases big enough to fit a person inside.
“Th–those are...?”
Hugo stared at them, eyes glinting with desperate hope.
If the Dreamwalkers had brought them here, surely they were something critical—lifelines of salvation.
“I don’t know what you’re imagining, but it’s not what you think. Don’t get your hopes up,” Zantman said, cutting him off.
“Then what are those?”
“Think of them as diving suits, if that helps.”
“Diving suits?”
Deciding it was faster to show than explain, Zantman opened one of the cases.
Hugo’s eyes went wide at the sight.
“The finest magical equipment the Dreamwalkers possess.”
Hugo was struck speechless.
His trembling gaze locked on the words engraved above the equipment inside.
[Ludger Cherish]
The so-called diving suit—this magical tool—had been crafted for him.
