Greg studies the tree carefully.
His eyes trace the branches, then the eggs, then the thin, vein-like connections binding each egg to the twisted limbs of the tree.
He understands.
Those connections are feeding them.
Sustaining them.
If he cuts them,
The eggs will fall.
His hand moves to his waist.
Resting over his throwing knives.
"I have five knives…" he murmurs under his breath.
His gaze lifts again.
"…but there are hundreds of eggs."
His fingers tighten slightly.
"After each throw, I cannot run around to gather the knives…"
He pauses.
Thinking.
Searching for a solution.
Then,
A scream cuts through the air.
Footsteps follow.
Greg turns sharply.
A bandit rushes toward him, blade raised.
No hesitation.
Greg meets him head-on.
Their swords collide.
The impact rings out.
The bandit presses forward, his strikes heavy and aggressive.
Greg deflects.
Steps aside.
Counters.
Steel flashes between them.
The bandit swings low.
Greg jumps back, avoiding the cut, then steps in again, his blade slicing across the man's arm.
Blood sprays.
The bandit grunts but does not retreat.
Instead, he roars and charges again.
Greg pivots.
His sword arcs.
The two exchange blows rapidly.
Greg's movements are sharper.
More controlled.
He finds an opening.
Strikes.
His blade cuts into the bandit's side.
The man staggers.
Greg follows immediately.
Another strike.
The bandit falters.
Elsewhere,
Old Tom continues his battle.
He does not stand on the ground.
He floats above it, maintaining distance.
His robes ripple as he moves through the air, casting spells continuously.
Fire.
Wind.
Energy constructs.
They rain down upon Bashil relentlessly.
Each spell forces Bashil back.
Cuts appear.
Explosions erupt.
But Bashil endures.
Then,
He stops.
His eyes burn with a fierce glint.
Without warning, he lifts his sword.
And drives it into his own chest.
Blood spills.
His voice rises.
"Mother… I offer you my heart… grant me power to defeat them."
The cavern trembles.
Green mist begins to spread.
Thick.
Oppressive.
It rolls outward, filling the space.
Back near the tree,
Greg raises his sword for the finishing blow.
But suddenly,
The bandit's body erupts with green energy.
Greg steps back instinctively.
The man's form twists.
Changes.
Scales spread across his skin.
His legs fuse.
A serpent tail forms.
His aura surges.
Rising,
To Senior Knight Apprentice.
All previous injuries vanish.
He slithers forward.
Fast.
Striking at Greg with renewed strength.
Greg blocks.
But the force is greater now.
He is pushed back.
Around them, the battlefield shifts.
Cultists and bandits alike begin to transform.
Their power rises.
One level higher.
The balance breaks.
The police and adventurers are forced back.
Pressure mounts.
The situation turns.
In the air, Old Tom watches.
He sighs softly.
Then acts.
He opens his spirit space.
Energy ripples outward.
Three figures emerge.
Dream Creatures.
A bird with a human head, its wings vast and unnatural.
A wolf with four eyes, each glowing with eerie light.
And a massive warrior beetle, its shell thick and armoured.
They descend into the battlefield.
Immediately engaging.
The bird dives, tearing through cultists.
The wolf moves with terrifying speed, its four eyes tracking every movement.
The beetle charges, crushing enemies beneath its weight.
The tide stabilises.
The battlefield steadies once more.
Above,
Old Tom continues.
His attention is fixed on Bashil.
The real threat.
Lin Yu lies quietly, his leopard head resting on his paws, watching the battle unfold with a bored expression.
To him, the clash below is nothing more than children fighting.
Crude.
Noisy.
Predictable.
His attention does not linger on the swords or spells.
It drifts instead to something far more interesting.
The naga-like creatures.
Each time one dies, its blood spills onto the ground.
At first glance, it seems insignificant.
But Lin Yu observes closely.
The energy in the cavern shifts.
Subtly.
Gradually.
Yet undeniably.
The composition of the surrounding energy begins to change.
It is faint.
Almost imperceptible.
But over time,
It will reshape the entire environment.
Lin Yu's eyes narrow slightly.
He begins to contemplate.
To deduce.
Why would the snake want this?
His gaze sharpens.
Piercing deeper.
Beyond the surface.
Beyond the visible.
His perception crosses the boundary of the dream world.
And what he sees,
Is different.
The Dream Side presses closer.
The distance between the two realms thins.
And within that space,
Massive forms move.
Snakes.
Hundreds of meters long.
Slithering.
Circling the cavern.
Waiting.
A faint smile forms on Lin Yu's leopard face.
One canine peeks out from his lip.
"The food has delivered itself."
In the next instant,
His True Spirit leaves the leopard's body.
Slipping out silently.
Crossing into the Dream Side.
In that eerie, distorted reflection of the cavern,
She waits.
The Snake Mother.
Her presence coils around the space like a living shadow.
Her anticipation is clear.
She prepares to descend into the real world.
Not for slaughter.
Not for conquest.
But for something else entirely.
The cavern.
This place holds value.
Within it lies a Dream Node.
And more importantly,
A small sub-space connected to it.
That is her goal.
In the Dream Realm, creatures grow through killing.
They hunt.
They devour.
They evolve.
As their power rises, so does their wisdom.
By the time they reach Level Eleven, their intelligence rivals that of humans.
At that point, simple slaughter is no longer enough.
To advance further, they must refine their magic.
Expand their influence.
Establish authority.
Only then can they move on to the next stage.
A Level Sixteen being.
And beyond that,
They must strengthen their authority further.
The fastest way,
Is through belief.
Through faith.
Through humans.
Until they reach Level Seventeen.
But Level Eighteen,
Is different.
To reach it, they must carve out a sub-space within the Dream Side.
This is the orthodox path.
There is another way.
To refine an already existing empty subspace.
And now,
She has found one.
Connected to this cavern.
Connected to the Dream Node.
Perfect.
Her eyes drift downward.
Toward the battle.
Toward the dying bodies.
Her "flowers."
Each death fuels the process.
Each drop of blood reshapes the energy.
But it is too slow.
She grows impatient.
She wishes they would die faster.
Then—
She stops.
Her massive body stills mid-motion.
Something has appeared before her.
A human.
Standing calmly.
Facing her.
She studies him.
There is no fear in his eyes.
No reverence.
No tension.
Only indifference.
As if she does not exist.
Her pupils narrow.
Even a Level Nine Dream Magician would not dare stand like this before her.
She lifts her head higher.
Looks down at him.
Her voice hisses through the space.
"Human… who are you?"
The man answers simply.
"I am Lin Yu."
She leans forward.
Her enormous face lowers, closing the distance until her breath washes over him like a storm.
"Human," she hisses again, "are you not afraid of me?"
She observes closely.
No breath.
No fluctuation.
It is as if he does not exist within her perception.
A flicker of alarm rises within her.
She pulls her head back slightly.
Then hears his voice again.
Mild.
Confused.
"Do I need to be afraid of an ant?"
Rage ignites.
Her scales tighten.
Even if he is strange—
He is still a human.
She refuses to believe he surpasses a Level Nine Dream Magician.
The inability to perceive him must be some trick.
Her mouth opens wide.
Fangs extend.
Poison pours out.
A vast mist spreads instantly, filling the entire space.
Corrosive.
Devouring.
Everything it touches begins to dissolve.
Stone.
Air.
Energy.
All reduced to nothing.
The mist lingers.
Then fades.
Silence follows.
The cavern becomes barren.
Dust.
Empty.
But—
Her eyes widen.
He still stands there.
Unharmed.
His black robe moves gently as if stirred by a nonexistent wind.
His gaze remains unchanged.
Calm.
Uninterested.
She hears him speak.
"Now it is my turn."
Light spreads from his body.
Not violent.
Not explosive.
But absolute.
In the next instant—
The world changes.
She finds herself in a golden space.
Boundless.
Silent.
Her body is gone.
Only her awareness remains.
Then—
She sees it.
Her own form.
Peeling.
Layer by layer.
Skin.
Falling away.
Then the muscle.
Then bone.
Then organs.
Then the brain.
All stripped apart.
Reduced.
Exposed.
In the void, something appears.
A skeleton.
Humanoid—
But wrong.
Too many bones.
Too many joints.
Its structure defies reason.
Its empty eye sockets turn toward her.
It opens its mouth.
She tries to resist.
Tries to escape.
But she cannot move.
Cannot control anything.
She is pulled.
Closer.
Closer.
Then—
Consumed.
There is no Snake Mother anymore.
Back in the cavern—
Everything changes instantly.
The power sustaining the transformation vanishes.
Those affected collapse.
Lifeless.
Bandits.
Cultists.
All fall dead.
The twisted tree begins to rot.
Its structure decays rapidly.
The eggs detach.
One by one—
They fall.
Children drop from the branches.
Unconscious.
But alive.
Silence spreads across the cavern.