Chapter 593 - 592: Dream Thieves
Chapter 593 - 592: Dream Thieves
The night sky hung low, and the seemingly endless wind in the wasteland had somehow come to a halt. A peculiar humming urged the slumbering Gawain to abruptly open his eyes.
He saw a stretch of undulating and decaying land extending before him, where strange auroras and starlight both fell upon the earth. The cold, dry air carried a metallic rust-like scent, and although he should have been lying on the bed at Pinnacle Base, he now stood amidst this unfamiliar and vast world.
There was no one around.
Gawain furrowed his brow and quickly surveyed his surroundings, then vaguely realized what was happening—this might be a dream, or some sort of mind projection effect.
The handiwork of the Eternal Sleepers?
Gawain looked down at himself and found he was somehow already wearing a full set of armor, though the familiar Sword of Pioneers was not in his hand. He clasped his empty fist and, using a familiar mental trick, a dark longsword materialized from the air and settled into his palm.
This indeed was a psychic world created by the Eternal Sleepers, but it didn’t seem to be part of the psychic network, nor was it located anywhere within the so-called "dream city."
Curiosity mixed with surprise welled up from the depths of his heart, but Gawain did not feel panic. He had dealt with the power of the Eternal Sleepers before and naturally could sense his current condition—his thoughts were clear, and he was in a state where he could leave the dream at any moment. Within the range of his psychic perception, he detected no malicious or observing "gazes," which seemed to suggest... he hadn’t been drawn in, but had "stumbled in"?
While tracking the scenery within his view and remaining vigilant about the dream’s changes, he speculated about what might happen. He clearly remembered that at this moment he should be asleep in his room at Pinnacle Base, and he hadn’t connected to the psychic network before falling asleep, which meant it was highly likely he "accidentally" wandered into some psychic channel belonging to the Eternal Sleepers while asleep: possessing their spirit imprint and mastering their secret arts, such occurrences were very possible. However... this was on the wasteland’s frontline!
Why would there be a psychic channel built by the Eternal Sleepers so close to the Gondor wasteland?! Could those dream-immersed evil cult followers be scheming against the wasteland?
Such thoughts flashed through Gawain’s mind, and he then cautiously expanded his perception, attempting to locate the hiding place of an Eternal Sleeper body within this space, hoping to capture a mind for interrogation. But just as he began to do so, several suddenly appearing presences forced him to stop swiftly.
The eerie auroras and starlight in the sky suddenly converged, casting down several clear beams, within which three figures gradually emerged.
Gawain quickly manipulated the dream-altering powers, making his figure and presence vanish into the air, though he didn’t think his hasty disguise could fool the others—in the psychic network, he had constructed a complete backdoor access system for himself, able to act freely, but that didn’t mean his Eternal Sleepers secret arts were particularly impressive. Once outside the psychic network, entering a new network where his permissions were invalid, he had no confidence he could technically outmatch the actual Eternal Sleepers.
He merely intended to temporarily interfere with the opponent’s judgment, then strike when the opportunity arose.
He might not be technically a match for the actual Eternal Sleepers, but he excelled at "brute-force cracking."
But somewhat unexpectedly, the three figures didn’t react at all—they hadn’t even noticed that Gawain was lurking not far away, and upon arriving in this space, they exhibited rather maladaptive symptoms, rubbing their foreheads or muttering quietly.
It was as if they were three awkward novices.
Seeing this, Gawain suppressed the urge to strike immediately, turning instead to observe the situation closely.
All three figures were women; one was a striking yet aloof and cold human female dressed in a green Priestess Robe from which all religious symbols had been removed. The other two were a pair of elf sisters with almost identical appearances.
Their attire and demeanor differed greatly from those of the Eternal Sleepers Gawain had encountered...
No, they should not be Eternal Sleepers at all!
Gawain felt not a trace of the Eternal Sleepers’ psychic fluctuations from these three figures, instead discovering that their connection to this space was fragile and unstable, as if they were people completely lacking knowledge of dream secret arts, forcibly connecting through some magical devices... Were these three "visitors"?
Gawain speculated about the identities of these three figures, and while he did so, the human woman among them suddenly spoke: "Why haven’t they appeared yet... Are you sure it’s the right time?"
The instant this voice reached his ears, Gawain’s heart jolted—he had a memory of it! He seemed to have heard this voice somewhere before!
And in the next moment, he realized that the familiarity wasn’t from his own memory but from Gawain Cecil’s: this speaking woman was someone Gawain Cecil knew!
However, a closer look at the woman revealed only a strange face, with no familiar face in Gawain Cecil’s memory matching it.
He had no time to ponder who this woman really was, as the elf sisters whose appearances were almost identical spoke in unison: "Just wait a little longer—they’re traversing the wasteland and can’t always arrive at the prearranged place on time."
Traversing the wasteland?
Gawain captured another word of interest, and almost as the sisters finished speaking, he suddenly sensed new presences entering this "space."
This time, no light descended from the sky, but at the edge of the vast opening, a cloud of mist and dust suddenly surged up. Amidst that dust, several thin figures staggered out.
Gawain focused intently, and under the starlight and auroras, he saw the appearance of those new figures: they were several "individuals" clad in black robes, but their faces were hardly human. Their skin was withered and wrinkled, surface etched with bark-like patterns, their hollow eye sockets lacking eyeballs, embedded with two dim yellow lights. They possessed arms and legs but moved with the stiffness of wooden puppets, absurdly awkward. They staggered to the three women’s presence, and from beneath their black robes came the peculiar sounds akin to dry branches cracking and rubbing.
Standing not far away, Gawain kept his eyes fixed on these bizarre figures, his heart full of questions: What were they? And could it be... that the traversal through the wasteland referred to them?!
He instinctively lowered his presence again, even though there was no sign that the others had detected him. He was still afraid of ruining this coincidental ’witnessing’ due to carelessness—his intuition told him that what he was seeing was likely part of the truth about those evil cult followers planning around the wasteland!!
At this moment, the woman who had spoken first spoke again, "I thought you wouldn’t make it today."
"It’s difficult to judge time and distance on the wasteland," said one of the shriveled ’figures’ draped in black robes. "I hope we haven’t been too late."
"Not too late; I still have the patience for this," the woman in the Priestess Robe said. "How is the situation inside the wasteland?"
"The winds of the wasteland are as persistent as ever. The only change is that a group of outsiders is reinforcing those barriers at the border... not worth paying attention to."
"It’s best to be more cautious. In the meantime, try not to approach the border—especially the northern border. There’s a rather troublesome person reinforcing the barriers in southeastern Anzu."
Gawain thought for a moment and felt that the ’troublesome person’ they mentioned should be him.
He felt like he probably guessed who these people were.
He really didn’t expect... after losing the ’Shadow Bridge,’ they were actually using the spiritual connection technology of the Eternal Sleepers to maintain contact within the wasteland... and those shriveled figures in black robes... are the Oblivion Association’s ’inside agents’ in the wasteland?!
What are they... or what are they, that they actually live inside the great walls?!
Gawain couldn’t help but stare at those shriveled figures in black robes, watching the leading figure speak with a hoarse voice, "We will be careful—how is the progress on your side?"
"The information you provided has been very helpful, but the divine evils Mutagen shows unusually high activity, which leads to a decline in the mutant’s ability to respond to orders and maintain rationality. We need to confirm whether it’s a normal phenomenon caused by environmental differences inside and outside the wasteland, or if there’s an error in the information you provided."
"The information we provided is accurate," one of the figures in black robes said, "but those are all raw data based on the wasteland environment. You should indeed make specific adjustments for the environment outside the wasteland. We can help with this."
The woman in the Priestess Robe solemnly nodded, "That’s for the best—the Archbishop will remember your contributions. No one will forget the efforts and sacrifices you made in the wasteland."
The leading figure in black robes seemed to force out a stiff smile, his shriveled throat making a hoarse sound, "This is the sacrifice expected of martyrs, Lady Beltira Augustus."
"I no longer use that surname," the woman immediately frowned, "You should know that."
"...Ah, apologies, I forgot. The environment of the wasteland makes it difficult for us to concentrate..."
Not far away, Gawain suddenly widened his eyes.
Beltira Augustus!!
He knew this name, he ’remembered’ this name, and he finally realized why the woman’s voice felt familiar after he heard it!!
And at this moment, he also remembered that when he learned about the Oblivion Association from Pittman, he had heard the name ’Beltira’—however, at the time, he only thought it was a common name, as similar names were not uncommon in the northern regions or the northwest of Typhon. However, now he suddenly realized... this ’Beltira’ was the one he knew from his memory.
Beltira Augustus, sister to Roland Augustus, the founding prince of Typhon.
And recognized seven hundred years ago by the northern Druid sect as... a saint.
She lived until today?!
In the intense shock, Gawain finally momentarily lost control over his presence, and for a brief instant, a little of his carefully concealed presence leaked out.
And it was this brief leakage of presence that alerted the two silent elf sisters who seemed to be serving as guards or sentinels, and they simultaneously warned, "There’s an issue—terminate contact!"
It was already impossible to remain hidden.
Gawain immediately made a judgment, realizing that even if he escaped now, he had already significantly alerted these Oblivion Association believers—they knew someone had eavesdropped on their communication, and that their secret had been exposed.
They absolutely couldn’t know that their secret was exposed to Gawain Cecil!
At this instant, Gawain made a decision. He realized that this psychic space was not created by the Eternal Sleepers, but rather the Oblivion Association believers were using some kind of device provided by the Eternal Sleepers in ’friendship sponsorship’ to connect. So he hesitated not at all to create a new persona for himself, then deactivated his invisibility, and walked forward with large strides.
Beltira Augustus watched in astonishment as a tall and familiar figure emerged from the air. Even for her, at this moment, a word escaped in exclamation, "...Brother?!"
But then she quickly came to her senses, "No—who are you?!"
PDLP