After silently observing it for a few seconds, Klein walked forward as he got onto the staircase and carefully walked down it.
The surrounding light gradually dimmed with a gray, hazy luster that enveloped the extremely silent world. The moment Klein proceeded down the staircase, he felt more and more like he was being locked inside a dark, silent room. Slowly, his ears could hear his sloshing blood and his beating heart.
The latter sped up as it was invaded by panic and horror which he could hardly keep in check. Klein focused his mind as he imagined the stacks of spherical light so as to stabilize his emotions and recover.
To his side, a grayish-white cliff coldly stood there, a representation of the domain of Groselle’s consciousness. It was silent as though it were dead, but the surrounding grayness would occasionally coruscate.
Klein focused his gaze and saw that in one of the points of light, there was a giant who ripped apart a human before stuffing it into his mouth, as well as Groselle panicking. Back then, the latter was less than three meters tall, and it was clearly still an adolescent.
The point of light flashed past, appearing in the frozen dusk that scattered over the mountain peak. Time here seemed to become impeded.
Klein was just about to seek out any valuable information in Groselle’s subconscious when he suddenly heard sounds akin to a beast’s panting.
With a whoosh, a huge palm appeared from the surrounding haze. Its skin was grayish-blue and was covered with signs of rot. On it was an obvious yellowish-green liquid as it quickly grabbed at Klein’s ankle.
Amidst the panting sound, similar palms rose up one after another from the staircase below, as though they were attempting to forcibly pull Klein’s Spirit Body into the mind world’s darkest and most unfathomable zone.
Instantly, these rotting palms formed a dense horse as they kept struggling upwards and let out sounds of horrible, hair-raising panting. It made Klein instinctively jump up three steps.
However, the countless palms that belonged to giant corpses didn’t stop. They squirmed along the staircase as they surged upwards, covering every inch of space.
Klein was just about to reach out his right palm to draw Death Knell and use Purifying Bullets combined together with Death Knell’s Slaughter ability to finish off the countless monsters when two questions suddenly flashed in his mind.
Where do these palms come from? Why would they be inside Groselle’s subconscious?
The moment this thought came to mind, his spiritual perception was triggered. Klein came to a realization as he immediately abandoned his thoughts of using Death Knell. He calmed his breathing and imagined the spherical lights.
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtThe huge, rotting palms took this opportunity to reach his feet as they grabbed his calves and ankles!
At that moment, they silent vanished as though they had never appeared.
Indeed, this is an illusion created by Groselle’s subconscious. Here, minds don’t just face each other, but they interact with them as well. If one lacks the corresponding Beyonder powers, the deeper one goes, the easier it is to have an emotional breakdown. Intrusion by the other party’s subconscious will slowly happen until one’s Beyonder powers are severely tainted. As a result, one will become a mental patient that will never be able to recover their rationality, and this might very well lead to a loss of control… This is different from communicating with spirits. Corruption isn’t avoided simply by maintaining lucidity and reason. This is because one is already inside the target’s Beyonder powers… Klein muttered to himself, having figured out something.
He hesitated for a few seconds before turning around to climb back up the stairs. He gave up on venturing deep into Groselle’s mind world because he lacked the Beyonder powers to placate his own mind. Insisting on heading down was equivalent to suicide.
I’ll consider exploring again after I find a mystical item that targets this aspect. Klein determined his thoughts as he walked faster. Finally, with a leap, he returned to Groselle’s dreamscape and returned to the guards’ quarters in the Giant King’s Court.
He already felt exhausted, so he immediately left the dream, walking out of Groselle’s blacksmith through the walls before observing the wonders of the book world.
I’ve already met Groselle, Mobet, and Siatas. And while I was casually chatting with others, I also heard of the devout priest, Snowman, and the philosopher, Frunziar. However, there isn’t an Anderson Hood, Edwina Edwards, Danitz, or Gehrman Sparrow… Therefore, only the dead will possess brand new characters in the book. Or could it be that only those who had stayed in here for extended periods of time—fully expressing themselves as an adventurer in their day-to-day lives—would be able to have their subconscious replicated? As Klein strolled by the side of the street which was illuminated by the setting sun, he considered something that he found crucial.
If it were the former theory, where the dead would “revive” and become new characters, then there was nothing Klein needed to worry about. However, if it was the latter, he had to consider reducing the frequency at which he explored the book, as well as strictly control the amount of time he spent in it each time.
There’s no way to ascertain it for now. I’ll deal with the situation by assuming it’s the latter. There’s definitely nothing wrong with being cautious… Klein quickly made up his mind and was about to return above the gray fog.
At that moment, he saw another familiar figure.
Frunziar, with his black hair and blue eyes, was sitting on a long, wooden chair by the street. He was staring blankly at the sky which seemed to be alit in flames, as though he was in thought.
Recalling how this Loen soldier’s ash urn was still with him, he planned on sending it back to the Church of Storms cemetery in Backlund. Klein silently sighed and walked over before sitting beside him. He asked as though it was a casual conversation, “What’s on your mind?”
“I’m wondering who I am, where I come from, how I should return…” Frunziar didn’t look away as he said in a dream-like state.
Without waiting for Klein to ask another question, he shook his head with a chuckle.
“I ultimately feel that I don’t belong here. I’m not myself at the moment, and that there’s some place awaiting my return.
“They always mock me for considering such pointless questions, so they gave me the title of ‘philosopher’…”
As he spoke, he looked at the setting sun and once again fell into silence and looked spellbound.
Klein didn’t say a word. He sat there quietly and accompanied Frunziar in watching the sunset. Finally, he silently vanished.
Frunziar didn’t notice that the person beside him had already left. He sat there motionless like a marble statue, looking far into the distance.
…
After replenishing the ship’s supplies, Alger Wilson instructed the Blue Avenger to leave the Resistance’s private harbor. It wasn’t going to stay too long in the Rorsted Archipelago.
He had to return to Pasu Island to make his report by the designated time.
At that moment, in the captain’s cabin, he was watching in anticipation at the illusory door that was formed by items with spirituality and a burgeoning flame.
It was the door of sacrifice, and it was also a door of bestowment!
Amidst an illusory creaking sound, the mysterious door slowly opened, revealing an infinite depth and darkness within its interior.
Light shot out from within before converging immediately. After everything calmed down, two items had appeared on the altar at some point in time. As for the door with all kinds of strange symbols, it was gone.
Alger was able to compose himself as he seriously thanked Mr. Fool. He finished the ritual according to the procedure before reaching out to pick up the two items.
One of them was a piece of paper that had been neatly folded, while the other was a translucent jellyfish that had azure-blue seawater in it.
Alger inspected the latter and discovered that there were occasional vortexes formed by winds or occasional lightning streaks. And from time to time, he could hear a distant, moving voice sounding from it.
This voice sounds like a woman’s… From the looks of it, this characteristic’s owner was a lady. Alger couldn’t help but heave a sigh of relief. This meant that it wasn’t some quasi high-ranking member of the Church of Storms that had been killed.
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏmThe Church of Storms didn’t have any female high-ranking members, quasi or not!
Putting away the Ocean Songster’s Beyonder characteristic, Alger unfolded the piece of paper. He swept past the main ingredient, and he quickly looked at the supplementary ingredients. Finally, his eyes paused at the ritual.
To him, the main ingredients were unimportant with a Beyonder characteristic in hand. He could look at it later. As for supplementary ingredients, they were rather easy to find, so they didn’t need much attention. It was the ritual that was of utmost importance.
Drink the potion in an Obninsk’s belly… Alger silently read the ritual’s contents as the corresponding information quickly surfaced in his mind.
Obninsks were ancient sea monsters. They could directly devour a sailboat, and it had a humongous, distorted body. It had as many as three heads and many tentacles that entangled with each other. They were the protagonists in many legends at sea.
Most of these sea monsters were tamed by the Church of Storms. They had a fixed region of activity, but it was unknown if they had near-human intelligence.
It’s no wonder the Church controls Obninsks, and not other sea monsters… It’s no wonder there are so many Beyonders in the Sailor pathway among pirates, but only a few can reach Sequence 5. Either they directly inherited it, or they’re the subordinates of King of the Five Seas or Queen Mystic… Then, where should I find Obninsks that don’t belong to the Church… Alger frowned slightly as he contemplated his advancement that bypassed the Church of Storms.
His first reaction was to find Queen Mystic Bernadette through Admiral of Stars Cattleya. From her, he could find Obninsks that didn’t belong to the Church of Storms. His second reaction was that it exposed himself to danger. This was because the corresponding Obninsks were likely servants of Queen Mystic, and they would report everything to their mistress.
Yes, this will be the last resort if there aren’t any other choices. Alger’s thoughts raced as he quickly had another idea.
That was to pray to Mr. Fool!
This reawakened existence secretly wielded the former authority of Sea God Kalvetua. “He” could commandeer undersea creatures, allowing “Him” to know where to find Obninsks that didn’t belong to any faction!
There’s no need to rush it. If I were to advance now, I won’t be able to hide the advancement from others, because of my lack of control over the spirituality dissipation. I can perform the prayer after I make my report and leave Pasu Island… Alger calmed down and memorized the Ocean Songster formula. Then, he moved the piece of paper to the tip of the candle’s flame.
As he watched the flame devour the formula at an increasing speed, Alger’s gaze turned deep.
After finishing off the remnant traces, his gaze landed on a sea map and locked onto a location.
Bansy!
Alger had planned on making a trip to Bansy in passing while en route to Pasu Island. He wanted to know what the present state of the harbor was.
He had already shared his thoughts with his sailors, and no one objected. This was because they were equally curious as to why Bansy Harbor was suddenly destroyed. They were curious what it had turned into.