Was she… already dead?

Luna showed almost no reaction as she stared at the peaceful reflection of herself resting in the water. None of this made sense. But somehow, she felt this moment had to happen for a reason.

"What do you see?" Anna called from the shore, her voice tense, the Elemental Catcher crackling weakly with electricity. "Is there something?"

"Yes. I think so."

Curious but cautious, Luna carefully extended her hand toward the water, intent on touching her own reflection. But then—

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

A voice, smooth and cool like a midnight breeze, stopped her cold. Luna's head snapped upward, heart skipping a beat.

Floating above the water was a woman wrapped in a star-patterned cloak, her presence commanding yet graceful. A black net veil was draped over her face, leaving only her full, dark lips exposed.

She was tall—almost unnaturally so—and had four pale grey arms, each marked with glowing runes and adorned with golden bangles that jingled softly as they swayed.

"A heart should never touch its body while in the Dreaming," the woman warned. "Or else the body will shatter beneath the essence of the dream."

"The Dreaming?" Luna echoed, wary. "Is that what this place is called?"

The woman tilted her head slightly, amused. "Do I look like I'm here to answer your questions?" Her voice cooled further. "Regardless, with your soul separated from your body, you are beyond fate's reach. Therefore…"

"…I am not cursed," Luna finished, finally understanding.

The woman smiled faintly, her lips barely curling. "The soul is bound to truth and fate. But when the body and soul are divided, fact and myth collide. That is why the dead are free from the curse. As long as you remain in the Dreaming… you are dead."

Luna slowly lowered the Sun Ember, realizing that she and Anna were not in the realm of the living. They stood in some form of purgatory. Untethered from fate, but also from life.

Accepting this reality, she lowered her head in respect to the mysterious being.

"Forgive my intrusion, great lady of the lake. I did not intend to disturb you."

A long silence followed. The mist thickened around them, cold and oppressive. Behind her, Anna lowered her head too, showing the same reverence for the unknown power before them.

But as Luna remained bowed, a strange sensation settled over her head. Her vision blurred as if someone had struck her skull.

'A mental attack... a strong one.'

She fought to remain composed as a thin stream of blood slid from her nose.

"Mmmhm… Imagination." The being finally spoke again, her voice like a distant dream. "So it's true. The fallen Oblivion shared his concept with a mortal. Look at me, child."

The final words echoed in Luna's mind, fading like whispers carried away by the wind.

When Luna raised her eyes, the woman was much closer. Those four long arms reached out gently and stroked Luna's hair. Luna froze in place, her thoughts scattering like leaves.

One moment her mind was sharp, the next it was filled with nothing.

"I can feel what you've forgotten," the woman whispered softly. "Dreams speak louder because they are part of what makes you human...."

"That's enough, Zerathi."

Another voice cut through the mist.

At the shore stood a thin, pale young man with calm, aqua-blue eyes and messy, yellowish-brown hair. His star-inscribed uniform hung loosely from his frail frame, giving him a sickly appearance.

Zerathi hissed in mild annoyance but didn't stop stroking Luna's hair. "She stepped into the lake and tried to touch her body. I was tempted and came to see for myself. Gods...she's even more beautiful than I thought."

Her two other arms moved on their own, weaving threads of essence between her fingers. The threads then darted into Luna's soul like hooks sinking into flesh.

Luna, still trapped in a daze, couldn't resist the invasion.

"She has awakened the lineage. No Second Gate, yet, but a second lineage belonging to the traitor lives within her. The Dream Lord will be pleased."

Zerathi's fingers snapped, severing the threads.

Luna's frozen body crumpled into the water, her vacant eyes reflecting the starlit sky above.

The young man sighed and calmly walked across the surface of the lake, as if it were solid ground. His expression softened as he lifted Luna's limp body and carried her back to shore, where Anna stood frozen with the same vacant expression.

Zerathi's dark lips curved into a cryptic smile. "I look forward to what happens next, Egon."

And just like that, her godlike form faded back into the depths of the lake, leaving only ripples in her wake.

Egon remained still on the shore, his thin frame outlined by the fading mist. He waited, silent and patient, until the lake was as settled as glass beneath the starlit sky.

Then, with a subtle gesture, he tore open space itself. The air hissed and warped, heavy with distortion as reality split apart like fragile fabric.

In an instant, a towering figure materialized before him—a seven-foot-tall creature of pale bone. It stood upright like a man, but its body was stripped of flesh, and a pair of jagged bone wings curved from its back like broken blades.

"Bone Child," Egon spoke, his voice calm but firm. "Fly to the castle and inform the Dream Lord that I have recovered them. I will take them to the Sect immediately."

The creature tilted its skull-like head slightly, as if processing his command. Then its hollow mouth stretched open, releasing a raspy, gasping noise that mimicked speech:

"…Master… yes…"

Without another word, the Bone Child unfurled its wings with a crack of brittle bone. It launched itself skyward, ascending swiftly into the starry expanse, where it vanished into the endless dreamscape, racing to deliver its message to the ruler of this strange world.

******

Meanwhile, somewhere else in the Dream World.

The golden light of the dream world spilled across the land like a distant sunrise, touching everything gently yet leaving a cold, melancholy feeling in its wake. It caressed the frostbitten landscape, turning the desolation into something strangely beautiful.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

Beneath the transparent sheets of frozen crystal, the bodies of countless creatures were entombed. Some rested in eternal stillness while others struggled faintly, their bodies writhing against the suffocating grip of the ice, slowly dying with each passing breath.

Lena took it all in with quiet dread. These creatures weren't born from nature. No, they were nightmares given flesh, twisted beings forged from fear and regret, trapped between existence and oblivion. And above them, watching at a distance, stood the source of this distorted terror.

The Nightmare.

But it wasn't its monstrous power that unsettled Lena. It was the face the Nightmare had chosen to wear.

Long, raven-black hair fluttered against the cold wind. A petite, familiar frame, as if molded after her own family's bloodline. Her eyes were like bottomless voids staring at her with quiet cruelty. Pale alabaster skin reflected the dream world's golden light like polished marble.

It wore the face of Lunaris Feng, a sister Lena did not remember having. However, deep inside, something was wrong. Some fragmented part of her heart whispered of a connection lost, of memories stolen by a force greater than herself.

To her, as far as she knew, Lena was alone in this world—an only child. No sister. No memory of anyone else with that similar face.

Her fists clenched. She could not afford to hesitate because of her conflicting feelings. Not now. Not here.

A sudden flash of movement snapped her from her thoughts.

"…Ascender Lena!"

Regan's voice cracked through the dreamscape ruins, raw with urgency. He appeared in a burst of light, teleporting close to the Nightmare. A gleaming longsword materialized in his grip, crackling with raw Zenshi. Without pause, he charged, his battle cry echoing through the frozen expanse.

The Nightmare smiled faintly, lifting a black katana forged from shadows themselves. Their weapons collided with a sharp, thunderous clash, sending ripples of energy through the icy wasteland.

As Regan struggled to hold the black katana at bay, Lena roared and charged in. Her Second Gate flared open, and streams of Zenshi erupted from her soul, freezing the very air around her. An icicle blade formed in her hand, sharp and deadly, glittering like crystallized wrath. Without hesitation, she thrust the sword forward, piercing straight through the Nightmare's dark armor.

The blade drove deep, its icy energy spilling out and latching onto the Nightmare's core. Cracks spread through the armor like lightning across a frozen lake.

Her voice rang out, fierce and clear. "The World listens and I command it."

But then, the Nightmare's voice broke the stillness, calm yet terrifying, echoing through the frost-covered battlefield.

"The world listens, indeed. But it whispers your truth, Lena Feng. You are chaos. You and I are the flaws. We are the errors written into this story."

Before Lena could react, the spreading ice stopped dead in its tracks, as though something unseen had severed her will. The Nightmare smiled cruelly, wrapped its fingers around the frozen blade, and wrenched it forward, pulling Lena toward her.

At the same time, the Nightmare's phantom hand manifested and shot out and slammed into Regan's chest with monstrous strength. The impact blasted him backward like a broken puppet. He skidded across the frozen ground, shards of ice splintering in his wake, and only came to a stop after crashing against a jagged spire. A ragged cough escaped him, blood staining the ice as his soul gate flickered weakly from exhaustion.

"Damn it…" Regan gasped, struggling to rise.

Lena tried to pull her sword free, but the Nightmare's grip was like iron. Its dark eyes stared into hers without pity, without hate, only cruel understanding.

Then, with terrifying swiftness, it launched a punch straight into her face.

Crack!

Her head snapped back, and stars burst behind her eyes. Pain lanced through her skull, sharp and dizzying. The force sent her staggering, her feet sliding across the ice.

Although the difference in strength made Lena feel like she was a Second Gate Ascender, she did not fall despite how much her body screamed at her to collapse.

She clenched her jaw, wiped the blood from her mouth, and glared back at the Nightmare with a defiant fire burning in her chest.

With a thought, Lena forged two more ice blades, their edges sharp enough to cut the wind itself. A sharp, chilling breath escaped her lips, frosting the air before her when she forced out more of her power. If raw strength alone couldn't shatter the Nightmare, then it was time to drown her in something far worse. A storm no nightmare could control.

Her long white hair lifted as though caught in the pull of another world. Strands unraveled, dissolving into weightless mist. The silver ends shimmered for a brief, fleeting moment—then vanished, becoming a swirling fog that wrapped around her body like the breath of a dying star.

She took a single step forward. And then she spun.

Slow at first. Measured and balanced, as if beginning a ritual dance. Clockwise. Again. And again. With each turn, the air tightened, growing dense, charged with frost and will. The fog spiraled with her, obeying her every motion. Then the wind answered her call.

A deep hum filled the battlefield, low at first, like a beast rousing from slumber. Then, the storm bloomed.

The wind howled to life, violent and sharp, swirling faster, higher, louder. Lena's spinning form vanished at the center of the tempest, becoming the eye of a living storm.

Ice shards materialized in the vortex, spinning wildly, flung outward like blades of fury. They tore through the mist, cutting into the earth and sky.

The Nightmare braced herself. Her black cloak whipped violently behind her, heels grinding against the cracked earth as the first blast struck. The force slammed into her chest, robbing her of breath. She slid backward, boots scraping against the frozen ground, leaving deep scars in the ice. But still, she did not fall.

She watched.

Watched as Lena disappeared within the raging cyclone. Watched as the tornado stretched toward the heavens, an icebound serpent clawing at the stars themselves.

The ground fractured beneath them. Cracks webbed out like veins of frozen death. Scattered debris rose and shattered moments after getting impaled by the icicles.

But the Nightmare smiled through the chaos. Her abyssal eyes narrowed with cold amusement. "Beautiful," she whispered into the wind. "The Ice Wing Sect would've loved to have this talent at their disposal."

With a snap of her fingers, a pulse of dark energy rippled outwards, cutting through the howling storm like a blade through silk. Shadows bled from her form and began to coil into the air, thick tendrils reaching for the cyclone's core.

But Lena didn't stop.

Even as the Nightmare's shadows tore into her storm, even as the weight of her own power pressed against the limits of her body, she pushed further. Pure Zenshi erupted from her core, forming a brilliant counter-force that clashed with the Nightmare's darkness in deafening bursts of sound. Each collision rang out like thunder ripping across a frozen sky.

Her soul burned, and her body screamed, but she endured.

Lena had opened her Third Gate. And from within that gate emerged her soul beast, the Winter Spirit. It was a fragile, ethereal creature, no larger than a child's hand, its translucent form shimmered like frozen starlight, and rested in her soul because of its design.

However, despite its delicate appearance, it carried immense power. This was a spirit from the same exalted lineage as the White Ice Dragon Mao Feng controlled. Its connection to the concept of snow allowed Lena's Aura to surge tenfold every time she used it. She became something more than mortal and putting her at the pinnacle of her true strength.

As she spun within the vortex, she controlled everything at once. The biting wind, the razor-edged ice, the spirit's aura flowing through her veins, and the raw Zenshi coursing through her gates. She was chaos and storm, harmony and fury all at once.

Phantom after phantom surged at her. But they shattered like glass against her will. More icicles exploded outward from the spinning tempest, tearing across the battlefield, devouring shadows and scattering the Nightmare's lesser creations into nothing.

And then, the Nightmare charged. There was no hesitation as she ran straight into the heart of the storm.

Blades of ice rained down upon her, smashing into her phantom shields. The ground cracked and howled beneath their clash. Above them, the sun vanished behind a swell of dark clouds, and the sky itself grew cold.

The Winter Spirit's power now threatened to spiral out of control.

But the Nightmare kept walking step by step, even as frost crept across her arms, her legs, her throat. Ice tried to seal her body in an eternal tomb.

Until she stopped.

A flicker of unease crossed her dark eyes as the cold bit deeper than she anticipated. This spirit… could kill her. She hadn't expected such raw, elemental force from a mortal.

And so, she spoke. Her voice rang out like the strike of a divine bell, resonating beyond sound, into the soul.

[ENOUGH]

The command was absolute.

The Winter Spirit heard. And in an instant, the storm collapsed. The howling winds died. The icicles crumbled mid-flight. Lena's vortex unraveled like silk torn by invisible hands.

And then, Lena fell. Her body hit the frozen earth. Her breath was ragged, and her zenshi was nearly spent. Her limbs trembled uncontrollably.

"H…How?" she gasped, barely able to raise her head.

The Nightmare approached with a slow, measured step. The frost was still melting from her body, but her smile was sharp as a blade.

"With power you do not yet understand, Chaos Witch," the Nightmare said softly, her voice almost pitying. "You and Regan Atlas have passed the trial. Victory was never possible. I am the Dream Lord's will made manifest. You faced the shadow of a god and survived. Just like he said you would."

She crouched beside Lena, her abyssal gaze studying the girl's trembling form.

"Believe me when I say I am… impressed. This year's candidates are stronger than I expected. Perhaps… strong enough to break fate itself."

And with those cryptic words, the Nightmare straightened and turned away, her form already beginning to fade back into the mist, leaving only the bitter cold and the echo of her voice behind.

Before everything disappeared, the Nightmare let out one final whisper that made it to Lena's ears like a dream.

"For Chaos to Reign, the Order of the heavens must first break."

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.