High School of Demon Hunting

Chapter 1545: Chapter 289: The Old Mansion’s Master

The night wind flowing down from Kela Mountain brushed past the ancient mansion, filling the entire garden with the refreshing air from deep within the mountains—a serene and pleasant atmosphere. The mushroom-like creatures on the ground emitted bursts of sunlight from their heads, shattering one after another into fragments of orange light, which scattered across the garden. The light seemed to form a golden pathway, following the guests’ footsteps.

From the depths of the garden, fireflies with swollen bellies flew out, chasing the golden glimmer under the night sky. Their bellies pulsated rhythmically, leaving behind streaks of light trails in varying shades in the air.

The guide, clad in his black wizard robe, did not engage in small talk with the guests and led them forward silently. The guests followed behind him anxiously, pondering how they should present themselves when meeting the master of the mansion.

Under the canopy of night, only the faint rustling of footsteps could be heard.

This served to underline the mansion’s quietude even further.

The courtyard had pavilions, artificial mountains, a lovely little garden, and a pool. In the pool swam fish glowing with phosphorescence. It was entirely different from the desolation described by Zhang Ji Xin or Xin Fat Man. Zheng Qing also failed to spot the well or the wet wooden bucket adjacent to it that they had mentioned.

The servant did not lead the guests inside the house but stopped his steps at the foot of the front staircase.

Standing atop the staircase was a tall figure gazing upward at the deep and expansive night sky. Due to the dim light, Zheng Qing could only faintly discern the figure to be wearing a wide cloak with no hood. Instead, he wore a circular crown-like headpiece woven from thorns, with vague, slithering shadows moving among the sharp components of the crown.

”Master, the guests have arrived,” the dark-skinned servant reported, bowing slightly at the foot of the stairs to the cloaked figure.

At this moment, it would no longer be appropriate for Nikita to step forward as the representative of everyone.

But Zheng Qing hadn’t yet decided what he should say or how he should greet the master.

”Good evening, sir, sorry for the intrusion,” he forced himself to step forward and greet the mansion’s master. The embarrassment he anticipated did not materialize, and his inner unease subsided in mere seconds.

Everyone, including the two female demons, the five hunters from the Absolution Hunting Team, and Furry Bean, kept their gazes fixed on the blurry figure atop the staircase, their expressions tense and focused. No one paid any attention to Zheng Qing’s words; they were more concerned with what the mansion’s master would say.

”Good, very good.” The figure continued to stare at the starry sky without acknowledging the guests’ polite greetings. His voice was indistinct and carried harmonic undertones, as though four or five voices spoke simultaneously: ”...The weather tonight is excellent; every star is clearly visible... especially Mars, which is extraordinarily radiant.”

Mars represents calamity and war in the study of star signs.

But can Mars be seen in the Dreamland as well? Zheng Qing tilted his head upward, attempting to locate the familiar red star amongst the constellations. No matter how hard he strained his eyes, he couldn’t find any trace of Mars. On the contrary, compared to the real world, the astronomical vistas here seemed exceptionally intricate. After just a brief glance, Zheng Qing felt a suffocating wave of nausea, compelling him to quickly avert his gaze.

However, retreating his gaze didn’t equate to retreating his thoughts.

Xiao Xiao substituted Zheng Qing in voicing his inner curiosity: ”Can Mars really be seen in Dreamland? In this world, does Mars’s concept in mysticism align with its real-world counterpart?”

The figure atop the staircase finally lowered his gaze from the starry sky and turned it toward his courtyard.

For the first time, Zheng Qing clearly saw the face of the mansion’s master.

Contrary to the imagined image of someone aged and maniacal, the master was unexpectedly young, seemingly in his early thirties, with curly hair and black eyes, smooth skin, and a stylish little beard adorning his chin.

Yet, for some reason, Zheng Qing couldn’t shake the feeling that this exquisite appearance resembled an intricate piece of craftsmanship, liable to shatter with the faintest touch.

”Mars?” The mansion’s master paused briefly, then shook his head and pointed to the starry sky, answering, ”No, that’s not Mars. Dreamland’s starry sky contains Mars, Hyngu, and even Mars from the Roman myths. While they might look alike, they are not the same star.”

”Compared to the lonely and desolate real world, Dreamland’s starry sky is far livelier.”

”This is a realm of fantasy and dreams, where the power of consciousness and thoughts is immensely potent. Miracles that magic alone cannot achieve are often possible through sheer mental will—such as hope, health, or even longevity.”

”And it’s precisely because the power of imagination is overwhelmingly strong that different impressions of the starry sky in people’s minds materialize simultaneously in Dreamland’s celestial dome. Every person harbors their own vision of the starry sky, and every person’s vision casts a shadow upon Dreamland’s skies.”

”Some shadows are faint, so pale that even the greatest wizards can barely discern their shapes; others are deep and rich, almost becoming genuine stars... These thick shadows result from overlapping of many individual visions.”

”The stronger the shared consensus, the brighter and clearer the stars.”

”More precise consensus reflects more consistent mystical conclusions... As I mentioned earlier, in this world where consciousness holds immense power, mysticism happens to be the richest embodiment of the stream of consciousness.”

The harmonic voice reverberated throughout the courtyard. Zheng Qing listened, utterly mesmerized, feeling as though he had never been this close to the truth of Dreamland. Every moment, even every single second, he gleaned invaluable wisdom from the mansion master’s words.

In ancient texts, it was written that during lectures given by great wizards of old, blossoms would fall from the skies, and the Earth would burst forth with golden lotuses. He had never understood what kind of phenomena described such a state. But at this moment, he felt he had grasped a trace of its essence.

It was the sensation of countless pieces of knowledge surging within one’s mind, leaving you dazed and overwhelmed.

It was the ravenous gnawing of a stomach that had remained empty for too long, stirred into frenzy by the sight of a dining table laden with exquisite dishes.

Frenzy?

As this word surfaced in his mind, Zheng Qing felt the corner of his eye catch glimpses of writhing shadows, lurking at the edge of the brightest starlight. Instinctively, he raised his gun barrel and fired a shot into the brilliant sky.

BANG!

The pale blue Fu Bullet shot out of the gun barrel, appearing like a gust of breeze, vanishing amidst the scattered starlight. Zheng Qing regretted firing the shot the instant it happened, fearing he might have angered the mansion master.

But in the next instance after the shot, an immense sense of relief and lingering dread washed over him.

Because as the gunfire rang out, all the sights before him began to shatter, like a mirror being smashed into pieces. Vanishing from Zheng Qing’s view was not just that dazzling starry sky, but also the quiet and beautiful courtyard beneath—the black-skinned servant in the yard and the tall figure of the mansion’s master.

BANG!

The muffled sound of the gunshot reverberated in the hearts of all present, jolting the guests out of their raptured trance.

Zheng Qing opened his eyes and beheld the decaying and desolate courtyard as described by Xin Fat Man and Zhang Ji Xin. He saw the overgrown vegetable garden, the breadth of stone crevices along the dilapidated walls, and the wild wisteria and bramble roses climbing through them. He also saw the abandoned well along with the toppled wooden bucket by its side.

The wooden bucket was still wet, though it was uncertain whether from the dampness of nocturnal dew.