Chapter 225: Crisis and Contingencies
Dreams, as a special form of human brain activity, are typically illogical, fragmented, and driven by emotion.
That is why an untrained person rarely realizes they are dreaming.
Gideon was no exception.
But for particular reasons, he had clearly perceived the connection between two different dream scenes.
And such continuity should not exist.
In fact, Freddy normally erased these links every single time.
This time, however, the dream-killing monster failed to notice his mistake.
So the moment Gideon became aware of it, he immediately tried to generate an intense urge to defecate within his body.
After all, this sensation was something only he himself could perceive—something the monster wouldn't detect.
The result was exactly as expected.
Gideon could control it freely.
It was as if a thin layer of fog had been pierced.
In a world filled with surreal imagery and emotional chaos, he regained rationality and the ability to think clearly.
---
Back in the present—
Gideon deliberately emphasized the fact that they were dreaming, yet Gale and the others showed no unusual reaction.
In fact, they seemed to forget it the very next second, their attention once again fixed entirely on the monster.
Gideon suspected that they had not met the same conditions he had.
At the same time, he vaguely sensed that he himself was not fully awake either.
For example, in his memory, his impression of this monster was limited solely to the classroom.
Even his other memories seemed to originate from that point—everything before it was blurred and indistinct.
Still, if the thing in front of him was clearly the villain, then beating it up was never a wrong choice.
With that thought, Gideon hurled the remaining fecal construct forward.
In midair, a grotesque "sphere" formed.
He dismantled the excrement humanoid, wrapping the monster tightly inside it.
Then, with a single squeeze of his hand, he compressed the sphere inward until it collapsed into a single point.
But the creature was clearly not that easy to kill.
Almost simultaneously, cracks split open across the ground.
From them slithered snake-like beings, crawling out one after another.
Their bodies were thick and massive, covered in burn scars.
Most disturbing of all were their heads—
Each bore the same face as the monster, complete with a round-brimmed fedora.
"Hehehe… You think you can defeat me just because this is your dream?"
All the creatures spoke in unison.
Gideon instinctively stroked his chin.
"Not really," he said calmly. "I'm just surprised by your lack of imagination."
He pointed toward their heads.
"You could've transformed into something far more efficient—sharper mouthparts, perhaps—but you insisted on keeping your original features. Doesn't that feel redundant?"
The monster snorted coldly.
"Compared to someone who reaches for bodily waste as a weapon at the first sign of danger, my sense of aesthetics is far superior."
For the first time, Gideon fell silent.
Then he chose action.
Tentacles sprouted atop the monsters' heads, coiling around their necks and tying into tight knots before constricting inward.
"Hehehe… So your earlier 'kindness' was nothing but a façade. Humans are always like this—perfectly willing to kill others for their own benefit."
The monsters laughed together, showing no sign of pain.
Gideon narrowed his eyes.
"I won't deny that such people exist," he replied evenly.
"But you came to that conclusion by threatening others' lives. Does that mean you couldn't defeat the ones who actually hurt you?"
The creatures erupted into shrill, furious howls.
"Shut up! You piece of trash! I'll come for them one day—yes, when the time is right!"
Gideon asked one more question—what did "the right moment" mean?
The creature didn't answer.
After that, the two sides clashed several more times.
Very quickly, Gideon realized something—
It couldn't be killed.
The monster seemed to possess an immortal body; no physical method had any effect. He even tried attacking it on a conceptual level—using will and suggestion, attempting to mentally exclude the creature from the dream.
But the more he focused on erasing it, the stronger its sense of presence became.
Nearby, Gale, Henry, and the others had curled up tightly.
"It's my fault… I got you killed. I kept running away."
"I didn't betray you… I didn't turn you in! Please don't look at me like that!"
"I'm sorry… I was so stupid. This is all my fault!"
Terror filled their faces. They desperately tried to retreat, but their legs refused to move.
Their upper bodies strained with effort, yet their feet remained rooted in place.
Seeing this, Gideon could only create shields and barriers to protect them.
But he knew this was nothing more than buying time.
The monster was clearly still playing with its prey.
Once it lost patience, that would be the moment of death.
And that moment arrived faster than Gideon expected.
After blocking another attack, the monsters suddenly dove downward.
Their massive bodies melted straight into the floor.
In an instant, countless faces appeared across the ground.
Judging by the facial features and the iconic bladed glove, they were all the same monster.
"Hehehe… You have nowhere to run!"
The faces slithered across the floor, converging toward Gideon's position.
With a flick of his hand, a row of vacuum cleaners charged forward.
But this time, one face broke through the defensive line.
Before Gale could react, a bladed glove slowly rose up from beneath her legs.
"Hehehe… Would her death break your heart?" the monster finally spoke.
The moment the words fell, the blades slashed toward Gale without hesitation.
Gideon had been watching the surroundings closely. He noticed the anomaly instantly.
A single thought flashed through his mind—
And in the next second, he appeared directly in front of Gale.
Snap!
Gideon caught the leather glove with a firm grip.
"Hehehe… Fast reaction, but—"
The instant he heard that sinister laugh, Gideon knew something was wrong.
The glove vanished from his hand.
At the same time, the blades pierced straight into his heart.
"From the very beginning, you were my target."
Freddy's upper body condensed out of the glove itself, face-to-face with Gideon.
But almost immediately, confusion flickered in its eyes.
The expected spray of blood never came.
"What's going on?!"
Its expression darkened.
At the same moment—
in the real world.
Gideon lay on his side, sleeping deeply.
Suddenly, the fabric over his chest shattered.
The skin above his heart caved inward, as if an invisible blade were stabbing down.
Only his skin's abnormal toughness prevented it from being pierced.
Then—
Holy artifacts around him emitted a soft white glow.
A powerful formation activated, enveloping Gideon completely.
The evil aura lingering around his head was gradually purified, and the shadows shrouding his memories were washed away.
Suddenly—
Gideon clenched his fist.
---
Back inside the church.
The blade had pierced his skin, yet Freddy's eyes only grew more confused.
It looked up and met a pair of calm, unwavering eyes.
"Don't doubt it," Gideon said evenly.
"You did stab me."
"But under the effects of holy arts, the damage was transferred."
He raised his left hand.
The skin of his palm was deeply indented—so severely that it was only a hair's breadth from being pierced.
Holy arts… transfer?
Realization struck Freddy.
But Gideon continued:
"And before the damage fully resolves—
I'm giving it back to you."
As his words fell, his palm instantly returned to normal.
At the same time, Freddy's face was crushed inward—bones and flesh forced violently aside.
Yet the monster didn't care.
It stared viciously at the human before it.
"You recovered your memories?! That's impossible!"
Gideon ignored it.
Instead, several holy artifacts materialized out of thin air around him.
He began chanting verses from the Gospel, holy power rippling outward.
Freddy recoiled in disgust, retreating far away.
The holy light spread over Gale and the others.
Before long, clarity returned to their eyes.
"Where are we? I was just… working with Mark on the—"
Gale noticed Gideon in the distance and instantly understood.
"This is a dream?"
Gideon nodded. "Welcome back."
Memories flooded back to Gale—the body bags in the restroom, the repeated brushes with death she hadn't even been aware of.
Fear lingered in her heart.
She looked at the priest beside her.
Without him, she would have died in the dream long ago.
"Father Gideon, th—"
"Later," Gideon said, waving her off.
Then he added, "Knight Henry—looks like you won't need to visit the principal to retrieve your sword this time."
"Hmph. I said I'd beat that thing senseless if I met it."
Henry stepped up beside Gideon, gripping a rune-etched cruciform sword.
"W-Wait… are you really people from my dream?!"
Knight Pence cautiously reached out and pinched Henry's nose.
"You little—!"
A scream echoed through the air.
Gale approached Gideon, holding a quill pen.
"How did you recover your memories?" she asked curiously.
Even as a medium, the preparations she'd placed on herself had completely failed against the monster.
Henry paused mid-swing, listening intently.
Gideon glanced toward the distance—Freddy was still prowling, highly alert.
"It wasn't exactly memory," Gideon said.
"It was consciousness."
"That thing only hijacked our dreams and sealed away the core of our awareness."
"Before entering the dream, I set up a few countermeasures. It seems they finally triggered."
"I see," Gale nodded.
"Preparation before an exorcism really is crucial. If we'd listened to you earlier, we wouldn't have been this passive."
She deliberately raised her voice.
Henry scowled but said nothing.
Then he felt someone poke his stomach.
He looked down and met Pence's earnest gaze—who nodded seriously.
"You little—!"
"I know I was wrong, Sir Henry!"
A moment later, Henry stood before Gideon.
He clenched his left fist over his chest and bowed slightly.
But as he straightened, he added, "My thanks are personal. They do not represent the stance of the Lord Knights."
Gideon nodded without comment.
"What about the others?" Gale asked, scanning the area.
"Not just them," Gideon replied.
"The trapped teachers and students aren't here either."
"Were they killed?" Henry frowned.
"Unlikely," Gideon said.
The others looked at him.
"Before we woke up, it kept creating horror scenarios to trap us—but never finished us off."
He pointed into the distance.
"That suggests another goal. Something like… feeding on fear."
"Fear?"
"In the Church's threat classifications, high-level paranormal entities often possess special abilities," Gideon explained.
"Some of them grow stronger through fear itself."
Gale's eyes lit up. "That makes sense."
Henry frowned.
Though he disliked Church explanations, Gideon's words answered his doubts.
In truth, this wasn't Church doctrine at all—Freddy in the original lore did grow stronger through fear.
"So if we feel no fear," Henry said, gripping his sword tighter, "does that mean we don't need to fear him?"
Gideon shrugged.
He wanted to say yes—but Freddy was infamous for being unkillable in dreams.
He was still thinking through purification methods.
Perhaps tired of waiting, Freddy suddenly made a move.
Right before Gideon's eyes—
It ran away.
Gideon: ???
He watched as the bladed glove shot off into the distance, dove into the ground, and vanished within seconds.
Gale, Henry, and Pence froze in place.
Then—
The surroundings began to tremble.
Gideon narrowed his eyes and tightened his grip on the cross.
The next second—
Crash!
All four walls of the church shattered.
A tidal wave of seawater burst in, instantly scattering everyone.
Amid the chaos, something heavy fell into Gideon's arms.
He grabbed hold of anything he could to keep them together.
Then the ceiling began to leak.
With a sharp crack, an overwhelming torrent of seawater crashed down.
Gideon could only pull the person in his arms and swim downward.
But instead of a floor—
Below them was a bottomless abyss.
At the same time, a crushing drowsiness washed over him.
"Again?"
Before he could react, darkness claimed him once more.
---
Gasp!
Gideon snapped his eyes open.
"Where… am I?"
He quickly searched his memories.
"Graduation… Freddy… dreams… flood…"
His gaze sharpened.
"So I'm back in reality?"
He looked around.
It seemed to be a park.
Then he felt warmth.
He was lying flat—and someone was lying on top of him.
One of his hands was gripping a soft, rounded curve very tightly.
Earlier, to keep the other person from being swept away, he'd instinctively grabbed whatever he could.
"…Authentic," Gideon thought involuntarily.
Just as he tried to sit up, Gale woke first.
"Ah!"
She scrambled off him in panic.
"Well—uh—I can explain," Gideon said, standing and rubbing his nose.
Both of them were soaked.
And because Gale was wearing a long dress, her striking curves were impossible to ignore.
She calmed down quickly—and then laughed.
"That's not how you earn a girl's favor," she teased.
"At times like this, you should pretend nothing happened."
She extended a hand. "Now's your chance to be a gentleman. May I borrow your robe?"
Her eyes were full of pleading.
"As a priest, I don't need a girl's favor," Gideon replied—
but he still removed the robe.
"Thank you!" Gale beamed, lightly bumping his shoulder.
Moments later, she put it on—
then froze.
"You… how are your clothes dry?"
"To check whether we're still dreaming," Gideon said calmly,
"I changed outfits."
He raised his hand slightly.
"Looks like we are."
Gale clenched her fist. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?!"
Gideon shrugged. "Who knows—might've lowered your opinion of me."
She puffed out her cheeks and took a deep breath, completely unlike her usual self.
"You—!"
Soon after, she changed into dry clothes as well.
"So… where are we?" she asked.
Gideon pointed to a wooden sign nearby.
It read:
Springwood Town Park