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Zeke suddenly attacked the monk with his energy and pulverized the old man.
This time, the old man took a long time to finally heal himself up. “What is the meaning of this, Great Marshal?” he
asked angrily.
Zeke answered, “I have to give you props for coming up with this plan, old man. If I actually believe that I'm dead,
then I'd really die in the real world, wouldn't I? Or I'd be in an eternal slumber at the very least. But it's a shame the
dream you concocted has a lot of flaws in it. It's too fake for me to believe.”
“Amitabha,” the old monk recited a sutra. “You're lying to yourself, Great Marshal. You know this is no dream. This is
reality. And the proof is in the pudding. Besides, monks would never lie. I can understand how you feel, Great
Marshal, but you can't solve anything by running.”
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtZeke asked, “You say this is reality? Very well then. What is the cause of my death? Answer me.”
The old monk answered, “I trust you still remember Hector Lester, right? He hurt your mental energy in the day. It
wasn't a serious injury, and you would have been fine if you healed up in time. However, instead of doing that, you
went to sleep. Because of that, you lost too much energy, and your soul faded in the end.”
Zeke retorted, “You might not know this, but I have Fortuna itself protecting me. Whenever I am in danger, it will
manifest itself and keep me safe. I will never die.”
The old monk gave it some thought. “Even so, Fortuna might also slip up. Not to mention you lost your energy bit by
bit. It's normal that Fortuna couldn't detect your impending death.”
Zeke asked again, “I'm a Great Marshal, and you're telling me this little place is my final resting place?”
The monk answered, “You might have forgotten about this, but you wanted to be buried in a quiet place after you
die. That was what you wrote in your will. I think this is a great spot, don't you?”
Zeke asked again, “Who buried me, then?”
The old monk answered, “Your wife, daughter, and soldiers, of course.”
“Bullsh*t!” Zeke snapped, “If I really did die, the first thing my soldiers would do would be to search high and low for
my murderer and cut them down as vengeance! They won't bury me right away.
He continued, “Besides, if this is truly my funeral, the president would attend it himself. And I'd be sent off with the
highest form of honor possible. But this procession doesn't seem too honorable to me.”
The old monk was still looking calm, but he was actually starting to get nervous. At that point, he had no idea how
to keep up his lie anymore. Even so, he tried his best. “It is important for the dead to rest in peace. Your soldiers
buried you quickly so you can rest. Do not blame them, Great Marshal.”
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏm
“F*ck you, a*shole!” Zeke could feel the monk getting nervous, and that proved that he was still in a dream. Once
again, Zeke tore the monk apart with his energy. “I'm warning you, old man, so listen closely. You'd better run, and
run fast, because I'll arrest you and lop your head off right after I wake up. I promise you that.”
Zeke sent another wave of energy to the funeral procession. Once it made contact, the procession disappeared,
and everyone was gone.
Everything became quiet, but Zeke still didn't wake up. He was still trapped in the dream. No matter what he did, he
couldn't break free of the trap.
“D*mmit!” Zeke cursed silently. “That old man made this dream too real. It's too hard for me to break out at the
moment.”
If I'm trapped in this dream, I'm as good as dead in the real world. What should I do, what should I do?
Zeke was starting to get restless. At the same time, the old monk appeared again.
He praised, “You are as smart as they say you are, Great Marshal. I did not expect you to see through my
Nightmare Curse. But so, what if you did? With how you are now, it'll still take you at least a year to break free of
the spell I cast. And with you out of the picture for at least a year—”
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