Chapter 192: Chapter 191 : The dream realm
Warm sunlight kissed his skin.
Arthur opened his crimson eyes with a sharp inhale, chest heaving as if he’d just surfaced from the bottom of a deep ocean. His heart pounded in his ears. For a moment, he stayed lying there, staring up at a clear blue sky with scattered, soft clouds drifting lazily.
The salty scent of the ocean filled his lungs, strangely calming despite the chaos raging inside his mind. A cool breeze brushed across his face, carrying the distant cries of seabirds somewhere overhead.
Sand shifted under his back.
He pushed himself upright, breath ragged.
His hand flew to his chest.
’What the... I was sure there was a gaping hole in my chest,’ Arthur thought, fingers pressing frantically over his shirt, searching for torn flesh, shattered bone.
But there was nothing.
No hole.
No blood.
Just the phantom ache of pain that should have killed him.
He forced himself to calm down, inhaling slowly, exhaling through his teeth.
When his breathing steadied, he finally looked around.
He was sitting on a wide beach.
Golden sand stretched in both directions, meeting a bright, clear ocean that shimmered under the sun. The waves rolled in gently, lapping at the shoreline with white foam. The water was so clean he could see the patterns of light dancing beneath the surface.
Everything felt... unnaturally peaceful.
Not a single hint of danger lingered in the air.
There was nobody else around.
No skeletons.
No blood.
No demon lord.
Just the sea, the sky, and the soft sound of waves.
"...System?" Arthur said, voice low at first.
He cleared his throat and raised his voice.
"System," he called. "System, are you there?"
Silence.
No notifications.
No responses.
’What the hell... It’s not replying,’ Arthur thought, frowning.
A strange unease settled in his chest. The silence was heavier than any battlefield he had ever stood upon.
He was about to call again when he noticed movement further down the beach.
Someone was walking toward him.
The figure wore casual beach clothes—a loose, open shirt, light shorts, and sandals. In one hand, he carried a small bucket with several fish inside, their scales catching the sunlight. He looked carefree, as if this was just another peaceful day by the ocean.
As the man came closer, Arthur froze.
Black hair.
Black eyes—deep, amused.
And curved black horns emerging from his head.
A handsome demon, tall and lean, with a relaxed smile.
Astaroth.
The same demon lord who had once been consumed by Elizabeth inside the containment ring.
Arthur’s mouth hung open.
"...I’m really having some weird-ass dreams these days," Arthur muttered, palming his forehead. "Yeah. Must be an illusion. Definitely an illusion."
He even pinched the bridge of his nose before turning away.
He decided to ignore the demon entirely.
He turned away, intending to walk off down the beach.
A hand landed on his shoulder.
"Yo, long time no see, kid," Astaroth said casually.
Arthur didn’t answer.
He simply started walking again.
Astaroth sighed dramatically.
"Hey, hey, you’ll hurt my feelings like this," Astaroth said, trailing beside him.
Arthur kept going.
Astaroth’s smile sharpened.
He folded his arms and said:
"Don’t you want to know what happened after you died?" Astaroth asked. "Or did you?"
Arthur’s steps halted.
His expression stiffened for only a brief moment.
He really did want to know.
Whether he was in hell, heaven, or something else. Judging by the company, it clearly wasn’t heaven.
He turned slowly.
He took a deep breath.
"All right, you demonic bastard," Arthur said. "Tell me what the hell happened. And why you’re trying to sweet-talk me."
He narrowed his eyes.
"As you know, I was the one who killed you, right," Arthur added.
Astaroth laughed loudly at that.
The carefree laughter echoed over the quiet shoreline.
"Well, you’re right about me being dead," Astaroth said. "But I’m also alive. As you can see, I’m here. So you could say I’m alive—technically. Just... not in a way that lets me influence the outside world anymore."
Arthur frowned.
"So how are you still here?" Arthur asked.
Astaroth pointed directly at him.
"Because of you," Astaroth said.
"...Me?" Arthur repeated.
Astaroth snapped his fingers.
A small wooden table and two chairs materialized in the sand between them, as if the beach had suddenly decided to host a tea party.
The furniture looked old yet strangely elegant, untouched by the sea breeze despite standing on loose sand.
Astaroth gestured toward one of the chairs.
"Sit," Astaroth said.
Arthur eyed the furniture skeptically, then finally sat down.
Astaroth took the other seat, setting his bucket of fish beside him.
"While I’m not alive in the usual sense," Astaroth said, "you still took something important from me."
Arthur’s eyes sharpened.
"Your bloodline," Arthur said.
Astaroth smiled.
"Correct," Astaroth said. "When you did that—whether you like it or not—you attained a part of me and the status of a demon lord. Along with some of my powers."
He leaned back.
"Do you get where I’m going with this?" Astaroth asked.
Arthur exhaled slowly.
" A demon lord cannot die until even his soul is completely obliterated..." Arthur said.
Astaroth snapped his fingers again.
"Correct," Astaroth said. "You are a smart one, aren’t you?"
He swirled a hand idly through the air.
"But," Astaroth continued, "you can say that’s not the only reason you’re not fully dead."
He tilted his head.
"To be truly honest, I’m stunned," Astaroth said. "Even I haven’t often seen someone still hanging around the boundary between life and death."
Arthur looked around again—the empty beach, the clear sky, the way everything felt too still, too separated from reality.
"So this is the boundary of life and death," Arthur said slowly.
"Correct," Astaroth replied. "You can also call it the Dream Realm. It has many names—the Spiritual Realm, the liminal plane... but the name doesn’t matter much."
He leaned forward slightly.
"Listen carefully," Astaroth said. "I don’t know what the hell you are, or what kind of powers you possess. But as a vampire, after your heart exploded..."
Arthur’s ears perked up.
Astaroth continued.
"Your body instinctively took control," Astaroth said. "It began supplying blood to all your vital organs—even your brain—on its own."
He rapped the table lightly.
"You’re in a comatose state," Astaroth explained. "Your body is forcing itself to stay alive, no matter what. It refuses to die."
Arthur nodded slowly.
’So my body’s buying time...’
The realization settled heavily in his mind.
Astaroth hesitated.
He looked away for a moment, as if debating whether to say more.
Then he did.
"Also," Astaroth said, "after you ’died,’ something came out of you."
He grimaced slightly.
"A monster," Astaroth said. "Even as a demon lord who’s lived thousands of years, I’ve never seen anything like it. A darkness filled with so much malice that it stunned even me—and Astarte."
He tapped his fingers on the table.
"It crawled out of your body," Astaroth said quietly, "and devoured the bodies of those two. What were their names again... ah, right."
"Sakura and Bobby."
A small smile formed on Arthur’s face.
’So it worked... damn, it actually worked,’ Arthur thought.
Before he died, he had given the system only one command:
Devour Sakura and Bobby.
And it had succeeded.
But a question nagged at him.
He looked back at Astaroth.
"Even so," Arthur said, "Astarte could have easily obliterated my soul if she wanted. Why didn’t she?"
Astaroth shrugged.
"You tell me," Astaroth said.
Arthur’s mouth twitched.
"The Astarte I know doesn’t show mercy," Astaroth said. "She obliterates anything she deems a nuisance."
He raised a brow.
"But that name you mentioned..." Astaroth said. "It did something to her."
Arthur’s eyes narrowed.
"Instead of killing you," Astaroth went on, "she’s preserving your body."
"She’s preserving my body...?" Arthur echoed.
"See for yourself," Astaroth said.
The air in front of Arthur shimmered.
The peaceful beach reflected across its surface for a brief second before the image changed completely.
A screen materialized, hovering in mid-air like a transparent window.
Inside it, Arthur saw his own body lying on a bed in a dark stone chamber. The gaping hole in his chest was still there—not healed, but not bleeding either, as if time around the wound had paused.
A chill ran down his spine.
"Your body is instinctively protecting you," Astaroth said.
Beside the bed, Astarte sat in a simple chair.
Her posture was relaxed, one elbow on the armrest, chin resting in her hand.
Her black eyes were locked on Arthur’s body.
She didn’t blink.
She didn’t move.
She just watched.
For how long—Arthur couldn’t tell.
The silence inside the chamber felt almost sacred, as though even time itself refused to interrupt her vigil.
Astaroth scratched his cheek.
"So," Astaroth said, "you tell me."
His gaze slid sideways toward Arthur.
"Who the hell is this Aiden Nexaris?"
Arthur sighed.
He leaned back in the chair and looked at the screen again.
"Well," Arthur said, "he’s her brother."
He paused, then added..
"She’s Aiden’s sister the guy you had seen me with when we first met."
Astaroth’s eyes went wide.
"...You’re serious? She is that kids sister." Astaroth said, curiosity flaring through the roof.
For the first time since they had met on this beach, the usually carefree demon lord looked genuinely curious about something.
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