Chapter 226: The Execution Platform in the Square
"Springwood?" Gale frowned in confusion. "I've never heard of a place like that."
She looked around carefully.
Neatly trimmed greenery.
Evenly laid gravel paths.
"This looks like a quiet, peaceful little town."
Quiet and peaceful…
Gideon's mouth twitched.
This place had already wiped out more than a few so-called 'protagonist teams'.
"Let's check the surroundings," he said, taking the lead.
He didn't know why Freddy had dragged them here, but as the nest of dreams, this place was bound to be riddled with danger.
If so, waiting passively was the worst choice.
They had barely reached the edge of the park when they ran into Henry and Pence.
The two knights appeared to be in the middle of an argument. Raised voices had drawn a small crowd.
"No—no, you can't do this! If you destroy it, Freddy will punish us!" a woman cried in panic.
Henry and Pence were standing before a black statue.
A round-brimmed fedora.
A twisted, ugly face.
A glove tipped with blades.
It was Freddy's classic image.
Henry and Pence had awakened nearby earlier. The moment Henry spotted the statue, he'd tried to destroy it—only to be stopped by the townspeople.
"This thing is a demon!" Henry shouted. "As a knight, I must destroy it!"
"Oh my God—are you trying to doom all of us to suffering?!" someone yelled back.
At that moment, Gideon and Gale approached from a distance.
After grasping the situation, Gideon turned to the frightened woman.
"Why would you erect a statue like this? And who exactly is Freddy?"
But before he could finish, the woman recoiled in disgust.
"Stay away from me! You filthy priest!" She staggered back several steps.
Around her, the others reacted similarly.
"Oh God, how did someone like this end up in the park? I'll never come here again!"
"Disgusting, corrupt hypocrite! Get out! Don't contaminate our grass!"
"That's right—get lost!"
They looked at him as if he were poison.
In moments, a wide empty space opened up around Gideon.
"Hey," Henry said with visible satisfaction, "if there weren't a demon involved, I'd almost applaud these people."
"Of course," he added casually, "that's not directed at you, Gideon."
Gideon ignored the remark. He stroked his chin, studying the crowd.
The third line of Freddy's nursery rhyme echoed in his mind:
Five, six—grab your crucifix.
Following that logic, in the original story, the Church was clearly positioned as the savior.
People shouldn't harbor this level of hostility toward clergy.
Something was wrong.
He was about to ask more questions—but the crowd had already scattered. Soon, the park was empty again, leaving only the four of them behind.
"I can grab a few 'lookouts' and interrogate them," Henry suggested.
Gideon shook his head.
"Until we understand the cause, acting rashly might disrupt some kind of balance—and trigger unknown dangers."
"The same goes for destroying the statue."
With that, he turned and walked toward the park exit.
Henry stood before the statue, gripping his sword tightly. After hesitating several times, he finally lowered it.
"Hmph," he muttered.
"A demon that hides in the shadows."
He sheathed his sword and left as well.
Outside the Park
Gale caught up to Gideon.
"If I wasn't mistaken just now," she said in a low voice, "those people were most likely the trapped teachers and students."
Gideon raised an eyebrow.
"I've seen the records of at least one of them. I can confirm that much."
"But they didn't seem like spirits…" he murmured, thinking aloud.
When he observed them earlier, they clearly possessed physical bodies.
Could Freddy blur even the distinction between corporeal bodies and souls within the dream?
There were too many unanswered questions to draw a conclusion for now.
The four of them followed the main street toward the town center.
Along the way, Freddy-related imagery appeared everywhere.
Posters.
Shop signs.
Wall murals.
The dream demon's image permeated every corner of the town.
More than once, Gideon also received "special attention" from the townspeople.
Those with some restraint merely watched him leave with looks of disgust.
Others hurled loud curses.
The more extreme ones even stripped off pieces of clothing and threw them at him.
Gideon's eye twitched as he removed a pink bra that had landed on his head.
Gale said nothing, but the corner of her mouth was already trembling with suppressed laughter.
"You could always change clothes," she suggested. "This is a dream, after all."
"The Lord teaches us not to concern ourselves with the opinions of others," Gideon replied solemnly.
"Only unwavering faith grants protection."
Gale looked surprised. She hadn't expected this priest's faith to be so… resolute.
In truth, Gideon was just being stubborn.
He wanted to change—but his black robe had been specially modified. Every pocket and hidden compartment contained essential holy artifacts.
Changing clothes recklessly might cost him a critical chance to act.
Left with no choice, he guided them through less crowded side streets.
Town Center Square
A large crowd had gathered, surrounding a hastily built wooden platform.
Four people were tied to it.
A local resident stood nearby, loudly reading out their "crimes."
"The Bible, the Lord, the Church—these are the darkest and most evil things in the world!"
"They suffocate our desires, control our thoughts, and turn us into hypocritical walking corpses!"
"Every resident of Springwood has a duty to drive the Church out! Think of your parents, your children—don't let them become fodder for demons!"
The crowd erupted in fervent agreement.
"That's right! They're heretics!"
"Burn them!"
The speaker raised a hand to quiet the crowd.
"These four scum dared to spread the poisonous faith of the Bible in our town. Especially this one!"
He strode up to one of the captives and yanked his hair back, forcing his face into the open.
Gideon narrowed his eyes.
It was Wilton.
His face was bruised, dried blood clinging to the corner of his mouth.
"This man dared to use holy water on children!" the speaker continued.
Gasps rippled through the crowd.
"How filthy!"
"Holy water corrupts the mind and brings plagues and disaster! Do you know how many people it's killed in the past?!"
Wilton struggled to speak. "L-lies… holy water is pure—"
Smack!
A slap cut him off.
"Heretic! You will receive righteous judgment!"
"Hey! You're targeting the Church—why did you arrest us too?!" a woman shouted.
The speaker turned toward her.
Tribal clothing.
Heavy makeup.
Braided cords woven into her hair.
"Hmph. Witches are heretics just like the Church!"
Winona stiffened.
"What?! Even here, witches are still discriminated against?!"
"Look at your companions," the speaker sneered, pointing at a short figure.
"Only those tainted by evil end up looking like that."
"Sir," Lombarn said calmly, "that's blatant discrimination. I'm a dwarf due to a congenital condition."
"Wizard," Bettice whispered urgently, "we should focus on escaping. I've tried—holy power won't respond."
Her face was pale with anxiety.
Earlier, Bettice and Wilton had regained consciousness and soon encountered the two from the Wizards' Association. Hoping to locate the trapped innocents, they headed toward the town center together.
They'd been careless—and captured.
Only then did they realize their abilities were completely sealed.
That was how they ended up here.
None of them knew what dying in a dream would mean.
But none of them wanted to find out.
On the platform, the speaker reached the final verdict.
"Given the severity of their crimes, even the law cannot pardon them! I hereby declare—these four heretics will be executed by fire!"
"Burn them!"
"Burn them!"
The chants thundered through the square.
"I never thought I'd end up on a stake with Church people," Winona muttered.
She glanced sideways.
"Now you understand what it feels like to be framed, don't you?"
Bettice frowned. "I've always acknowledged that period as one of the Church's darkest chapters—but right now, survival matters more."
"Escape?" Winona scoffed. "Unless your god personally shows up, we're finished."
"Can you really not interfere with the dream?" Lombarn asked.
Bettice shook her head. "I've tried countless times. Nothing works."
She knew the theory—lucidity within dreams.
"If he were here, maybe he'd find a way…" she murmured, a familiar figure surfacing in her thoughts.
Then her eyes widened.
"Father Gideon?"
On a nearby rooftop, Gideon was crouched low. Beside him stood the woman from Light of Humanity.
Hope surged back into Bettice 's chest.
Lombarn and Winona noticed as well, their spirits lifting.
"No… we don't need his help," Wilton rasped stubbornly.
No one paid him any attention.
"I never thought I'd miss a Church man this much," Winona muttered.
"Act normal," Lombarn whispered urgently. "Don't alert him. We'll cooperate when the time comes."
Across the Square
Gideon knew they'd seen him.
But he hadn't finalized a rescue plan yet.
Everyone in the square was part of this mission—he couldn't simply attack them.
Dream manipulation was an option, but he'd already used it once.
Freddy was nowhere to be seen.
And this elaborate execution wasn't just about condemning the Church.
So Gideon waited.
Activating [Envoy of Sin], he scanned the crowd.
Thick, bile-like dark green energy clung to them.
The Sin of Disgust.
Wait—
Emotion.
Gideon's eyes lit up.
Freddy's imagery dominated the town.
The monster always retained its iconic form.
And in the original story—
Fear was his source of power.
An idea took shape.
The Execution Platform
Torches and gasoline were ready.
Four executioners approached the captives.
"If he doesn't act now, we're dead!" Winona hissed.
"M-maybe he ran," Wilton slurred.
He looked up at the rooftop.
Gideon was gone.
Bettice stayed calm. "You claim the Church poisons minds—where's your evidence?!"
Her words bought a moment.
The speaker opened his mouth to respond—
But a voice cut through the crowd.
"Hmph. You ignorant masses should kneel beneath the banner of the Church!"
Gasps rippled outward.
The crowd parted.
Four figures emerged.
At the front stood a priest in black robes, holding a megaphone.
"Are you insane?!" Henry whispered urgently.
"To rebel, at least pick the right moment!"
"G–Gideon?" Gale stared.
The captives on the platform were equally stunned.
"He's… the one actually trying to kill us, isn't he?" Winona whispered.
"G-Gideon! You're disgracing the Church!" Wilton shouted hoarsely.
Lombarn's eyes flickered with calculation.
Bettice stared, refusing to believe it.
She was wrong.
Gideon leapt onto the platform and faced the crowd.
"Being allowed to believe in the Church is your good fortune."
"You are born filthy—only the Bible can cleanse you!"
"From this day on, men, women, even children must undergo holy baptism!"
"Otherwise—"
His voice turned ice-cold.
"The Church will teach you true pain."
Silence fell.
Then—
"Heretic!"
"Bastard!"
"Put him on the stake too!"
Alongside the dark green aura, pure black energy surged forth.
The Sin of Hatred.
"Almost there," Gideon muttered.
He jumped down from the platform and strode toward a mother and daughter.
"We'll start with you."
He seized the girl and shoved the screaming mother aside.
"For your disrespect toward the Church, she will suffer in your stead!"
He pulled out a glass vial and forced the girl's mouth open.
"Let her go, you monster!"
"Church scum!"
The crowd was on the brink of explosion.
Bettice shook her head frantically. "Father Gideon—you can't do this!"
Gideon sneered, yanked the cork free, and poured the holy water down the girl's throat.
"No!!!"
The mother collapsed, trembling.
"Don't think you'll be spared," Gideon said coldly, gesturing behind him.
"These are my companions. They'll make you drink as well."
"Hey! I'm not your companion!" Henry protested wildly.
"I'm still tied up!" Winona shouted.
"Then I'll do it myself," Gideon replied calmly.
With a wave of his hand, vines erupted from the ground, binding the crowd.
Dozens of holy water bottles materialized in midair.
Gideon spread his arms like a fanatic.
"Drink. Entrust your souls to the Church."
The corks flew free.
Vines guided the bottles to their mouths.
Faces twisted in terror and despair.
"Gulp… gulp…"
Holy water was forced down their throats.
Gideon nodded in satisfaction.
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