Chapter Ten: The Warrior Acknowledged by Chaos

If Chen Zi’ang had to choose a word to describe the world of dreams, the best he could think of was “grotesque.”

Yes, grotesque.

But it wasn’t the kind of grotesque that is crafted by human hands, rather a style twisted from its very roots—indescribably eerie and uncanny.

To make an analogy, the horror movies, comics, and novels he’d encountered before were merely faces made ugly by a makeup artist’s deliberate hand. Yet, what he saw and heard upon following Nicole to the ancient city of Enlank was akin to witnessing a creature born deformed—an utterly different breed.

Enlank, the ancient city, bore the hallmarks of medieval architecture.

Technology seemed absent here; beneath his feet lay cobblestone streets, and around him, houses built mostly of wood and stone, their foundations crawling with writhing moss, while the spider webs beneath the eaves twisted into bizarre shapes, resembling silent, screaming faces.

The people weaving through the streets wore linen garments. Women wrapped their heads in scarves, their faces haggard; men sported unruly beards and tangled hair, wandering aimlessly or sitting dazed on steps by their doorways.

Upon seeing Chen Zi’ang and Nicole walking side by side, their faces darkened as they hurried into their houses, slamming the doors shut and locking them, then casting furtive glances from behind curtained windows.

Overhead, massive shadows swept past—it was the dream fiends, Nicole’s kin. They flew to the rooftops, clinging to attic windows and slipping inside.

“Peaceful coexistence, isn’t it?” Nicole let out a chuckling laugh. “These humans wandered into this realm for all sorts of reasons and were warmly welcomed by my kind—we even spare them rooms to live in!”

“What’s the price?” Chen Zi’ang asked calmly.

He had no intention of believing any talk of “warm hospitality,” especially judging by the humans' gloomy expressions; life in Enlank was evidently far removed from happiness.

“The price is just a little rent,” Nicole replied offhandedly. “After all, we dream fiends feed on the fear within dreams.”

A simple sentence, yet its implications sent a chill down his spine:

So the humans residing here, every time they sleep, must suffer nightmares to provide a feast for their dream fiend landlords… No wonder their faces were so grim; it was a miracle none had lost their minds by now.

Chen Zi’ang’s expression wavered, and Nicole continued,

“These humans, if they returned to your world, would rot and perish instantly. They’ve stayed in the dream realm too long and have been thoroughly assimilated.”

“Even leaving Enlank would expose them to predation by other horrors in the outside world. Being able to stay here and endure nightmares is the greatest blessing they could hope for.”

Chen Zi’ang said nothing.

Together, they crossed the street until they reached the town square.

A towering, imposing temple stood at the heart of the ancient city. Its main doors resembled enormous screens, silently swung inward to reveal the dim, mysterious sanctuary within.

In the center of the hall stood a square altar, upon which burned a blue, ethereal flame.

“The Altar of Chaos,” Nicole raised her staff, pointing to the blazing blue fire. “Pray before the altar and beseech the God of Chaos for what you desire—this is also the will of the Lord of the Deep Sea.”

Chen Zi’ang hesitated, but Nicole made no effort to urge him, simply remarking,

“I suppose you didn’t stumble into this world merely for sightseeing, did you?”

Her words brought him back to himself. After a moment’s silence, Chen Zi’ang stepped before the altar’s flame.

The blue fire flickered and danced, yet gave off no heat, instead radiating a chilling, fearsome cold.

He closed his eyes, thinking silently,

“I seek a way to cure my sister’s illness.”

After a moment, he opened his eyes in surprise.

“What’s wrong?” Nicole asked beside him.

“It said…” Chen Zi’ang hesitated, then organized his thoughts, “It said I can exchange authority with it.”

“That’s right.” Nicole’s expression showed satisfaction. “You’ve gained its approval.”

“From this moment, Enlank recognizes your qualification to fight for the Shadow. All our war missions are open to you.”

Chen Zi’ang stood silent for a long time, then asked,

“These authorities it offers…”

“They’re all the authorities you can exchange for at your current rank.” Nicole’s tone grew warmer, patiently explaining, “Do you remember the Shadow Cloak I just gave you?”

“No matter which plane or world you find yourself in, as long as you wear it and kill any entity belonging to the Mist or Flesh faction, it will record the corresponding merit for you.”

“Once you have merit, you can exchange it for authority at any Altar of Chaos within the Shadow faction.”

“Of course, you can also accumulate your merit to upgrade your military rank and unlock more lists of authorities.”

After Nicole finished explaining, Chen Zi’ang felt a subtle relief.

The merit Nicole spoke of was, in truth, the fire seeds he’d obtained from hunting monsters.

He returned his gaze to the altar, and a list appeared before his eyes:

There were three authorities: Abyssal Touch, Profane Sorcery, and Thousand Faces.

Abyssal Touch summoned obedient tentacles.

Profane Sorcery encompassed numerous unclean rituals related to curses.

Thousand Faces granted the power to alter one’s body and appearance.

Each authority cost fifty fire seeds to exchange, but none related to “healing.”

Fortunately, Nicole had said that by raising his rank, he could unlock more authorities for exchange, which eased Chen Zi’ang’s mind somewhat.

To promote to the next rank required one hundred fire seeds—an amount that might be daunting for ordinary people, but he felt no concern; after all, hunting monsters was his very vocation.

“If I leave, can I return here again?” he asked for confirmation.

“Of course,” Nicole replied. “The Shadow Cloak I gave you already has Enlank’s coordinates set.”

“The next time you enter the dream world, simply wear it and think of the city, and you’ll be transported here directly.”

The dream fiend priestess seemed to know Chen Zi’ang had no merit to exchange at the moment, so she simply gestured for him to do as he pleased, saying generously,

“Enlank always welcomes your visits.”

Chen Zi’ang nodded and turned to leave the temple.

He stopped in the center of the town square, took one last look at the splendid, pale violet sky, then activated the Dreamwalking authority.

His consciousness plummeted at breakneck speed; he felt himself piercing through countless star rivers, traversing the layers of subconscious and then the preconscious, finally falling back into his body.

He snapped his eyes open in bed, quickly raised his arm to check the spiritual pressure gauge on his wrist.

The dial read zero, confirming his return to the mundane, mystery-free world.

The rational lozenge beneath his tongue had dissolved, the mandrake sword still cradled in his arms, and as he sat up halfway in bed, he glanced instinctively at his chest.

Pinned to his shirt was the badge known as the Shadow Cloak.

According to Nicole, even if his true spiritual vision rose to fifty or a hundred, as long as he wore it, his vision would remain locked at thirteen, keeping him safe from more dangerous horrors.

Of course, if he removed it, his vision would return to its true level, and safety would vanish.

The reason for this design was clear—it was meant to encourage him to plunge deeper into the dream world, to fight for the Shadow, without worrying about the dangers of rising vision.

Yet, the more often he entered the abyss, his true vision would inevitably rise, making him ever more reliant on the Shadow Cloak.

Chen Zi’ang rubbed his brow in frustration, when suddenly his phone rang beside his pillow.

“Hello?”

“Senior!” came Yuelin’s cheerful voice from the other end. “I’m coming over to study with you! I’ll be at your door soon!”

“All right, I’ll let you in.” Chen Zi’ang hung up, and instinctively pulled the Shadow Cloak from his collar.

He meant to hide it under his pillow, but quickly reconsidered and instead slipped it into his trouser pocket.

…Better to keep it with him.