Zero Order sat quietly in place.
A silent room, void of people.
In front of Zero Order, who was seated on the sofa, stood a small wooden table and a chessboard.
The chessboard was unlike the common ones one could find on the market.
The pieces were in black and white, yet their positions were scattered haphazardly, and the board itself was not made of alternating black-and-white squares.
Still, anyone who understood the situation would realize that this board was symbolizing something.
The collective realm of unconsciousness and dreams—Dreamland.
The board was broadly divided into Upper Layer, Middle Layer, and Depths.
If broken down in detail, it became far more complex, hence the simplification.
“The Upper Layer is almost completely collapsed.”
Zero Order used the stick in his hand to push the cluster of black pawns gathered in the Upper Layer down toward the Middle Layer.
“Since Nirva intervened, the Middle Layer will also be eaten away bit by bit from the top.”
It was like setting fire to the front gate and the garden in order to drag a guest into the house.
With no way to escape outside, the only path to avoid the flames was inevitably deeper into the mansion.
A mad act committed for the sake of inviting a guest.
Yet at the same time, the most certain method.
“The broken courtyard and front gate can be restored soon enough.”
Zero Order placed five white pieces across the Middle Layer.
Nirva’s servants of dream.
They could only manifest within Dreamland, but when they appeared there, they were exceedingly powerful beings.
Compared to an Apostle their power might fall short, but their traits were close to equivalent, and they could wield Dreamland’s energy—the dreamscape.
Even an Apostle could not confidently guarantee victory when facing a dream servant within Dreamland.
Not because an Apostle’s strength was lacking, but because of the unique environmental nature of Dreamland.
“Nirva surely summoned servants. With me going as far as declaring war, he wouldn’t just sit idly by.”
Nirva pretended to be unconcerned, but he was more insidious and cunning than anyone.
Once Zero Order had said those words, Nirva would never have dismissed them lightly—he would have taken them seriously.
He would have wrestled with the decision: should he send his servants, believing the warning, or scoff and ignore it?
Nirva’s nature was to test every stone bridge before crossing—he would have sent servants.
“Well, of course. This is about awakening a Goddess. He wouldn’t overlook even the smallest mistake.”
Thus the five servants would move, seeking out the most powerful entities within Dreamland.
Since they would obstruct their master, Nirva, they would strike preemptively to root them out.
These servants had the ability to detect beings with strong willpower.
Right now, battles of unprecedented scale must be unfolding in five locations.
Who would win or lose was difficult to know.
But Zero Order could at least predict two outcomes.
“Ludger Cherish. Victory.”
Zero Order nudged forward a white piece of a woman in radiant white.
Beside it stood a piece of a black crow.
“Franz. Victory.”
Next, he moved the piece of a figure in a black hood.
Beside it, a piece of a woman in pure white armor toppled sideways.
Around the hooded piece were several other pawns.
‘Not just foot soldiers. Since Franz handpicked them, they must be skilled fighters.’
That left three places.
Of those, Zero Order lingered his gaze on one.
“This one likely won as well.”
Tap.
The toppled piece was at least three times larger than ~Nоvеl𝕚ght~ the others.
Next to it sat calmly the piece of an old woman in black.
“With this, only two pieces remain.”
Zero Order lightly stroked his chin.
The one most likely among them was none other than Seorn’s Headmaster, Elisa Willow.
Outstanding magical skill, graceful beauty, and overwhelming political sense.
In Dreamland, where mental strength was paramount, Elisa Willow’s presence was dominant even with that taken into account.
Still, her victory was not easy to foretell.
Her opponent among the dream servants would not be easy either.
If she had an ally to assist, the chances of victory would rise.
But as Zero Order judged it, no one of impressive enough caliber was present to offer Elisa Willow proper support.
“The one remaining would be Esmeralda... or rather, Selina.”
Zero Order was well aware of what had become of Esmeralda.
In truth, the one he had directly called into the First Order had not been Esmeralda, but Quasimodo, who had in turn controlled her.
But with Quasimodo now dead, the existence of Esmeralda also faded with him.
What remained was Selina, the artificial spirit Esmeralda had pieced together from her own past memories and fragments.
Had she lived intact, Esmeralda might have become the strongest Spirit Mage of her time.
If Selina was the final legacy Esmeralda left behind... she might yet show at least a fragment of that potential.
But Zero Order had no intention of relying on such luck.
From the beginning, the wargame (Kriegsspiel) he observed here had always to be premised on the worst-case scenario.
“If there’s one more thing to bother me, it’s that bratty foursome poking at our heels lately.”
Was it Aidan?
He remembered him as the boy who used unusual magic.
Anti-Magic.
A magic with absolute advantage against magic itself.
So-called Magic Killer.
Instead of dismantling a spell during its formulaic stage, it dismantled the spell after full completion—a deranged ability.
That such an outrageous power existed was astonishing enough, but the fact that this brat had managed to seize several threads of the organization he built amused Zero Order greatly.
‘Didn’t he recently completely ruin Victor Dreadpool’s experiment and plans in the southern beastkin region?’
Given enough time, he could grow into a truly dangerous adversary.
But personal bias had no place in a wargame.
“Whatever the case, losing at least three servants cannot be avoided. And that would deal Nirva’s forces a severe blow.”
Nirva would then be forced to alter his plans, faced with stronger resistance than expected.
Though not the master of the house, he was at least the butler. He could only watch with composure as the guests made their way into the mansion.
“But if those entering the mansion aren’t children chasing crumbs, but bandits wielding sword and gun, then the story changes.”
In that case, Nirva himself would have no choice but to intervene.
From his absolute perch where he watched everything as if from above—he would have to step down into the mud.
Of course, given Nirva’s level, even if others wallowed in mud, he would stand upright upon it.
But could he truly keep the mud from splashing?
At the very least, his shoes would be soiled, if not his trouser hems.
For one who always carried himself with composure, could he endure that?
Even if he did not show it outwardly, the slowly boiling rage within would be impossible to suppress.
‘What I want is that decisive moment.’
The best scenario would be Nirva’s death.
But much remained before that could be achieved.
Zero Order had to calculate what could be done for now.
“Scheming all by yourself again?”
At that moment, someone quietly entered the room.
Zero Order did not bother to turn his head. From the youthful tone and casual demeanor, he could not possibly mistake who it was.
“My right hand, Setadel, is still busy, I see. Were you plotting once again how to kill me?”
“Wasn’t Franz your right hand?”
“Is that so? Then let’s call you my left hand.”
“Drop the lousy jokes. What are you plotting this time?”
“Plotting, you say. Do I look like someone who has such a thing?”
To the quietly laughing Zero Order, the man cast only a cold gaze.
Eyes that made it clear he was itching to kill him on the spot.
Zero Order merely shrugged his shoulders lightly.
“If I recall, you had something to find in Seorn. That’s why you sent John Doe there, and you’ve been keeping an eye on it all this time, haven’t you? Yet to show such composure now—it strikes me as rather strange.”
“What if this composure is false? What if I’m more anxious than anyone, just pretending not to be?”
“......”
“My, my. As expected, jokes like these never work on you. You’re such a dull one. Is it because you’ve lived your whole life bound by nothing but faith?”
“Shut up.”
At Zero Order’s words, a growl came back.
“How touchy. Well, don’t worry. If anything, right now is when the things I’ve wanted are finally beginning to manifest.”
“......You’ll fail.”
“Perhaps. But shouldn’t you be hoping for success? After all, you need to reclaim the lost Saintess’s power, don’t you?”
“......”
“Oh dear.”
Zero Order only smiled slyly at the silent reply.
His gaze fell back to the board.
‘Seorn.’
The reason Nirva targeted that place was surely because he knew Zero Order was searching for something there, and so he wanted to interfere.
If Nirva was to cause trouble, the one most capable of obstructing him was none other than Zero Order.
Thus, Nirva chose Seorn—to both hinder this side and shake the entire board.
‘Perhaps Nirva has sensed something, too.’
But did he truly know this much?
That in the bundle he believed he had snatched away, secure in his victory, a deadly viper was coiled?
Nirva would not fall so easily.
Yet even the lightest brush would spread poison through his entire body.
To ignore the will of the other side and achieve one’s own goal—
That was something Zero Order had done for hundreds of years, and something he was certain he could do better than anyone else.
* * *
The Dreamwalkers, except for Zantman, regrouped with those who had fallen to the Middle Layer.
Their foremost objective was rescue.
But rescue did not always proceed ideally.
“This side’s finished.”
“Here too.”
The owners of the bitter voices were looking at people lying as if asleep upon the floating islands in the sky.
They looked unhurt, but no trace of mental wavelength could be felt from them.
Their dreams had been entirely devoured.
“Were they taken by a nightmare subject?”
“Their eyes are closed, but their twisted expressions say as much.”
Soon, the bodies of the people began slowly sinking into the floating islands.
Ground that looked solid enough to bear even an armored vehicle absorbed only the sleeping as if it were a sponge—it was an uncanny sight.
“Submerged Sleep, is it.”
The word meant, “to sink into sleep.”
A phenomenon that occurred in Dreamland when one closed their eyes.
Sleep that would never end—so-called eternal sleep. Those who fell into it became part of Dreamland itself.
Even if this incident were to end, those people would never awaken in reality.
For Dreamwalkers, such scenes were not unusual.
But never before had they seen it on such a massive scale.
Their search continued.
In its course, they managed to find survivors and also to link up with other groups.
Elisa Willow was leading a group, escorting many safely at that very moment.
The Dreamwalkers joined them and moved toward the designated rally point.
“Teacher!”
“Kids! You’re safe!”
Selina and Julia, who had been waiting there, also joined the group.
“Little one!”
Especially upon spotting Julia, the Dreamwalkers’ excitement was overwhelming.
Even lovers reunited after war would hardly rejoice more than this.
The onlookers wondered what in the world was happening.
“Who are you? I don’t know you.”
Julia desperately denied knowing them.
Her eyes, however, shot sharp rays of “Oh, come on. Keep quiet already,” but her seniors’ fuss would not stop.
Her denial was meaningless.
After all, everyone knew which school she belonged to, and the large emblem embroidered on the seniors’ clothes marked them as members of the Dream School.
“Follow us.”
With a small sigh, Julia dragged her seniors to a quieter spot.
“Oh, really! Don’t act like that in front of so many people!”
“Aigoo. We were just overjoyed our little one is safe. Right?”
“Of course, of course. Our youngest did so well. Even in the Middle Layer, still safe.”
“We raised her well!”
Julia squeezed her eyes shut.
Arguing further with these people would get her nowhere, so she decided to change the subject.
“So what’s the situation now? How’s it going outside?”
“Well...”
After hearing the Dreamwalkers’ explanation, Julia’s expression turned grim.
“So not only Rederbelk but the scope is spreading further?”
“That’s right. And what about you? Nothing happened inside?”
“Nothing? Too much happened—that was the problem.”
Julia in turn explained everything she had gone through and witnessed.
Though they bickered on the surface, at crucial moments their cooperation proved why they were called members of the same school.
“What about the Master?”
“The Master stayed behind to fight that giant golem.”
“You call that an explanation? How is Master supposed to fight that monster alone!”
Julia had seen with her own eyes the power of a servant.
Their traits and their command of dreamscape power could reduce even veteran Dreamwalkers—who strode Dreamland as their home—to nothing.
‘Teacher Selina handled one servant alone, but that was only because she’s an unusually exceptional case.’
She trusted in the Master’s skill, but still—there was no guarantee of coming out unscathed.
Considering age alone, the Master could pass away at any time. What if something went wrong?
“What’s this? Our little one actually worrying about the Master?”
“Aigoo. She’s all grown up now, truly grown.”
“...Is that really so strange? Don’t you seniors worry about the Master at all?”
At that, the Dreamwalkers asked in puzzlement,
“Why would we need to?”
“Why not?”
“Why worry about someone standing right behind you?”
“Huh?”
Julia turned—and was startled out of her wits at the sight of Clara Cowen’s deeply wrinkled face.
“Kyahhh!!”
