Eldritch Horror Theatre

The gods share authority over dreams? Sounds like I’ve heard something interesting again.

He really lived up to his vast experience. A casual remark from Excellency Patches was enough to suddenly clear the mind.

Take the question raised just a moment ago: why had there never been any mention of someone explicitly controlling dreams? Nor had the corresponding Divine Path been seen.

Was the answer really that simple? This authority over dreams had always been shared?

As long as someone was a higher entity, they possessed a certain degree of control over it?

If so, this power was even more extraordinary than he had imagined.

Naturally, this also explained a great many things.

Fu Qian recalled the various dream-like dilemmas he had encountered along the way.

There really did seem to be quite a few higher entities with some level of control over dreams.

Even someone like the Witch, who claimed to be unskilled at it, could casually freeze a dried-up sea of mind and maintain a stable Nightmare Aggregate.”Is that so? Then why, as far as I know, was it not until the Progenitor of the Blood Clan that God’s first dream occurred?”

But these thoughts didn’t stop Fu Qian from questioning him.

Pointing toward the sky, he bluntly brought up an important figure relevant to this trip.

He even brought up a new term he had just acquired from his recently concluded mission.

”The first dream? That’s a fascinating way to put it. Furthermore, I think I better understand why you came here.” The epitome of a positive interaction was vividly displayed in this moment, as Patches also looked as if he had just heard something amusing.

”Do you think they can make it here?”

But that was all. Seeing that it was about time to get down to business, Patches steered the topic right back to Ibu and his companion. ”Are you sure you aren’t going to evacuate the people first?”

He had good reason to ask. On the other end, the Master and Ibu sounded as if they had already begun their joint operation.

This arrangement wasn’t strange. After all, with Ibu taking the field personally, there was no way he’d let the Master sit idle.

Even though the latter was being forced to tag along and clearly still had some objections.

The most glaring proof was that a matter like ”evacuating”—something that obviously should have been discussed in secret—had been spoken aloud right in front of the entire Archipelago.

”There’s no need.”

Ibu, completely unconcerned with his image, signaled that they would all share in the impending disaster.

”No one is allowed near the Restricted Zone. Furthermore—I do not want you to stay quiet.”

In the next moment, he actually commandeered Patches’s prank as a broadcasting system, speaking to the numerous minds currently shrouded in fear.

Telling people not to stay quiet was quite a rare request.

After all, leaving the mic open on a public channel had always been rather obnoxious behavior.

Damn. But Demigod Might was terrifying to this degree.

Barely two seconds after Ibu finished speaking, the voices in their ears rapidly amplified until they became a Clamor.

The buildup that had looked like it would drag on for a while was forcefully skipped over just like that.

”Excellency Ibu of the Archipelago, ranking in the Demigod Realm and commanding the White Tower, is an upright man who walks with lightning and fire. He certainly isn’t the type to hesitate halfway.”

Naturally, even though Ibu had acted in a way that utterly disrespected market rules, Fu Qian still gave him high praise.

He even completely understood why Ibu would issue such a command.

They might not know why everyone was suddenly on an open comms link, but having the contents of this conversation broadcast in real time was obviously not a good thing.

For one thing, it meant they were being monitored the entire time. For another, the listener base was massive; as they grasped their current predicament, fear was rapidly brewing among them.

So, even considering what the Master had just mentioned about looking out for the others, Ibu’s directive wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.

Regardless, getting a massive crowd riled up could both drown out whatever the two of them discussed next and let the people pretend to forget their terror—the so-called living in a drunken dream and dying in an illusion.

”And the other one?”

Seeing Fu Qian launch into this impassioned cadence, Patches seemed to find it amusing and played along with a smile.

”The Master of the Rebirth Club is unbound by traditional ideas of the Transcendent Tier. He single-handedly promoted the development of limb grafting, giving countless untalented individuals a chance to glimpse the extraordinary. His courage and vision are truly exceptional.”

Fu Qian didn’t decline, immediately delivering another piece of praise.

”It looks like you have a lot of confidence in both of them.”

Patches nodded repeatedly as he listened.

”Not at all. Actually, I don’t have much confidence in them.”

However, Fu Qian immediately shifted his tone.

”Oh? Why is that?”

Patches made no effort to hide his surprise and snapped his fingers as he spoke.

An astonishing scene followed. The sound of rushing water echoed through what had been a desolate ruin.

The ground beneath their feet even began to pitch and sway, as if they were suddenly standing on the deck of a ship.

Looking out, the bow of the ship was pointed squarely at the ruins of the Laboratory.

It had to be said that Excellency Patches was once again proving the claim that ”the authority over dreams belongs to the gods.”

His actions carried an air of absolute freedom, directly moving their venue of conversation onto a ship—and a ship belonging to The Club, at that.

Under the night sky, the Master and Ibu stood right at the bow, completely oblivious to their extra passengers.

At least judging from their resolute postures, it seemed impossible for either of them to back down halfway.

”Ibu is plenty upright but lacks flexibility. It’s inevitable that he’ll be schemed against.”

Fu Qian continued laying out his reasoning.

”As for the Master, he’s too two-faced and scheming. I’m afraid his original intention in establishing the Rebirth Club—to eradicate the injustices of bloodlines—is already gone.”

He didn’t think highly of either of them.

”Hmm, hearing it put like that, the situation really doesn’t sound optimistic.”

The Master and Ibu still had no idea they were being evaluated behind their backs, but Patches was thoroughly amused.

”Though according to you, it’s hard to tell who is the passive party between those two. Ibu is the one being played?”

In the next moment, he gestured toward Ibu, who by all appearances was the one taking the lead in their operation.

”Doesn’t it seem like it? A lot of the time, the one with the loudest voice isn’t the one calling the shots.”

Fu Qian shook his head, showing that he truly didn’t favor the combatant with the higher Rank.

”Makes sense. Since his original intention is lost, what is the Master’s goal in staying here and taking such a risk?”

Patches pointed toward the Master again.

”If he isn’t interested in limb grafting, there isn’t much left of interest on the Archipelago. Take a certain codex, for instance—and just from watching earlier, it really does seem like some things are beginning to revive.”

Fu Qian gestured toward the top of the White Tower, skillfully employing the process of elimination.

”The White Tower Codex—”

Patches cooperatively followed his gaze, as if picturing the view looking down from the top.

”Do you mean this?”

Just two seconds later, he reached out and grasped at the empty air. When he pulled his hand back, he was holding a dark, indistinct clump of something.

”Looks like it.”

Fu Qian looked down and discovered that it was a severely miniaturized Black Stone Screen, folded back on itself multiple times.

Of course, even more miniaturized was the dense, packed text inscribed upon it.

He had added a single rule to it back then, which was the very thing that had caused the King of the White Tower to fall into corruption.