Study.

  Under bright lamplight.

  Javon laid Notes of the Dream-Seeker Solin flat on the desk and opened to the first page. A single line of elegant Spirit Language script surfaced on the title leaf:

  The Dreamworld is indescribable; only the imprints of the mundane world may glimpse a sliver of its projection…

  Javon turned to the next page and found nothing but a smear of blurred ink. He flipped several more pages—each one the same.

  “The Professor wouldn’t cheat me the first time we meet. So I’m reading it wrong?” Javon’s expression remained calm as a thread of radiance coiled around his finger and fell upon the paper.

  The ink-blots loosened under the glow, like countless tiny worms crawling across the page, assembling themselves into strange occult sigils and glyphs.

  This kind of reading requires constant decryption. Javon felt irritation rising in his chest; if he kept going, it might escalate into the point where whispers became audible.

  He didn’t care. Pure white flooded his eyes.

  In the next instant, Javon’s gaze seemed to pierce the pages, arriving within the Ethereal Realm itself. As a detached observer, he watched himself begin an entirely new exploration…

  In the dream, innumerable uncanny regions, bizarre Ethereal Realm creatures, even the mysteries buried in the depths of that realm—each seemed to lift a corner of its veil, ever so slightly, before him…

  Javon lifted his head, breathing hard, as though he had just been hauled from water.

  “This immersion is too strong—so strong even I feel dizzy. A Transcendent without sufficient Sephiroth depth would struggle to drive off the aftereffects… As for ordinary people, they’d be contaminated easily.”

  Though this esoteric transmission was “only” a set of exploration notes—light on raw occult knowledge and not involving any great existence directly—it was still high-end.

  “No… that’s not quite right. It does describe a great existence.”

  Javon’s voice dropped.

  “The Dreamworld itself. The standing of a world is naturally immense. That’s why the accompanying contamination is so fierce. The content has to be hidden—only Transcendent can decode it for themselves.”

  He thought he understood Solin’s intent.

  Face impassive, he turned to a new page.

  Within the notes, the author recorded in detail how he had stumbled into the Dreamworld in a chance bout of sleepwalking—how he wandered, groped, and finally distilled a set of patterns.

  The notebook was thin, an entry-level guide to Dreamworld exploration. Javon finished it quickly, almost with lingering hunger.

  “This Dream-Seeker Solin—his Sephiroth depth must have been high. His exploration ran deep.” Javon’s fingers tapped the cover. “A pity I haven’t seen Volume II or III… Those are likely in the Professor’s hands. Not knowledge to be sold lightly.”

  He set the notebook down and gathered his thoughts.

  “In these notes, beyond the Dreamworld records, the most important part is a positioning technique.”

  “Solin says that, in ‘the ever-shifting Dreamworld, one must find that which does not change.’ Use it as a reference point—then you can confirm your coordinates. Like a lighthouse for navigation in the deep sea.”

  “And he provides a region suitable for beginners to ‘log in’ within the Dreamworld. Once you master positioning, you can travel to that coordinate.”

  Javon tossed a coin, confirmed the esoteric transmission’s authenticity and the coordinate’s accuracy, and allowed himself a small smile.

  “Finally. I can explore the Dreamworld freely.”

  “My only real fear was dropping randomly onto a Velthyr’s territory—worse, colliding with a Velthyr itself. Everything else is manageable.”

  He reread the section, eyes narrowing.

  “This positioning method isn’t particularly profound. The key is simply to find an unchanging reference in the Dreamworld and treat it as a lighthouse… lighthouse…”

  Javon nodded.

  “The Dreamworld region corresponding to Alice Town is perfect. It doesn’t change. And its standing is high enough. With a lighthouse at that level—so long as I don’t fall into a Velthyr’s trap—I shouldn’t get lost in dreams.”

  In his understanding, a “lighthouse” also carried the meaning of a signal tower.

  In the Dreamworld, if you entered certain special regions, it was like walking with a compass into a zone of chaotic magnetism—no matter how bright your lighthouse, it wouldn’t help. For accurate positioning, the signal had to be strong enough—strong enough to pierce the barriers laid by malicious Ethereal Realm creatures.

  “The best signal tower is a Velthyr. That’s out of the question. Next would be Divine Scion-tier…”

  He gave a short laugh.

  “Using a Dreamworld region influenced by a Divine Scion as a lighthouse—its effect won’t be poor.”

  If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

  Javon began to recite his own honorifics, letting his spirit slip free.

  Soon, the Spirit of Null Observance emerged, staring down at his body.

  The Spirit of Null Observance is too purely conceptual. If I go as that, they won’t even see me—so I still have to wear ‘clothes’… Unfortunately, I only have one skin: Oclair.

  Javon entered the Malevolent Spirit Oclair, glanced at a mirror, and wiped a hand across his face.

  In an instant, Oclair’s facial features warped and became Elvander’s. At the same time, the ornate, lavish noble attire vanished, replaced by a classic shirt and jeans. A cowboy hat sat on his head, and a revolver hung at his waist.

  Ordinary items could not be brought into the Dreamworld—but items containing Essence could.

  “Besides…”

  Javon took out a talisman and crushed it, letting an invisible force settle upon him.

  Around his body, the Malevolent Spirit’s dreadful aura ebbed, returning to the level of a normal spirit.

  By the Malevolent Spirit’s instinct, Javon could open a passage into the Dreamworld in a heartbeat.

  Now, he followed the positioning technique recorded in the notes, chasing the thread of his own mystic linkage. A rustic little town seemed to surface before his eyes: a purple moon hung in the sky, and at its center, a blood-flesh embryo was faintly taking shape.

  “Using the Dreamworld region shaped by Alice Town as my coordinate reference… then I should go there.”

  Javon swept an arm, tearing open the void before him as if pulling apart an invisible door. His spirit stepped through.

  The next instant, in a whirl of vertigo, he arrived in the Dreamworld.

  Javon looked up, as if into a boundless universe.

  A massive planet loomed directly overhead, wrapped with a broken ring of meteor fragments.

  “Ever since the sun collapsed, this world has lost the basis of physical existence. It can only become fully Dreamworld in nature…” Javon murmured. “What I’m seeing may only be a historical snapshot of the cosmos. That planet above me might have already been destroyed—or be light-years away for all I know.”

  He reached into the void and drew down a silver-white mask, setting it over his face.

  Lowering his gaze, he found himself in a vast wetland. Puddles lay scattered across the ground; low shrubs could be seen not far away. Everything was lush and green. The Ethereal Realm creatures that drifted past were not especially powerful, and the pollution information in the air was likewise sparse.

  “No wonder it’s one of the Dreamworld landmarks that generations have excavated and confirmed as relatively safe…”

  Javon praised it softly.

  Then he saw a cluster of multicolored light gathering in the distance, shaping itself into a doorway.

  With a ripping sound, the door opened. A short boy-shaped figure appeared within.

  “A new dreamwalker?”

  In most Dreamworld experiences, you could hardly run into Transcendent at all. Yet in this public region, they seemed far from rare.

  Javon was about to greet him when the short Transcendent rapidly chanted a spell.

  In the next instant, light wrapped his body. When it dispersed, he had become a sparrow—wings fluttering as he rose.

  “How interesting!”

  Javon tipped his cowboy hat. “Sir—”

  “What is it?”

  The sparrow alighted atop a shrub and preened with elegant little motions.

  “Sorry. It’s my first time seeing a bird-shaped spirit-body.”

  Javon spoke with mild curiosity.

  “It’s nothing.” The sparrow’s voice was proud, yet unmistakably young. “It’s a Veil spell. A Transcendent who walks the Veil Path purely can enter the Dreamworld with their flesh at low Sephiroth tiers.”

  “For those of us who also cultivate the Veil Path, we’ve created unique spells that let our Dreamworld bodies mimic various animals. It protects our spirits and increases resistance against external erosion.”

  “You…” The sparrow sounded pleased with himself. “You’re a newcomer, aren’t you? At least you know to wear a mask, hide your identity—so you’re not completely stupid.”

  A worldly-inexperienced boy… and he wants badly to be treated like an adult. He likes being called ‘sir,’ ‘gentleman’…

  Javon analyzed quietly. In this world, children want to grow up. Adults want to become children again.

  After a few more exchanges, Javon learned that entering the Dreamworld with the body was the best defense against Dreamworld information and contamination.

  Beyond that, those who cultivated the Veil Path could use spellwork to reshape a spirit-body into a form more suited to the Dreamworld—far easier to resist pollution than a “naked” spirit.

  “If we treat our flesh bodies like steel armor,” the little sparrow said, hopping onto Javon’s shoulder with smug pride, “then transforming into an ordinary animal is only like putting on leather armor…”

  “Even so, it’s better than you naked spirit-bodies! And I can fly!”

  “Martin!”

  As the sparrow showed off, a shadow swept across the sky. A hawk with a wingspan of six feet dropped down, talons snatching the small sparrow.

  “How many times have I told you? The Dreamworld is dangerous. Don’t enter alone. Wait for me!”

  “That’s my teacher.”

  Caught in the claws, the sparrow showed no panic. Instead, he said proudly to Javon, “How about it? Impressive, isn’t he? I want to become an eagle too, but my teacher says my spellwork isn’t nearly enough. I need to keep studying…”

  Not bad. He’s probably opened the third Sephiroth.

  Javon glanced at the giant hawk and judged.

  He had killed plenty of Transcendent like this before—yet they truly were the backbone of the occult world. In some organizations that lacked any Beyond Mortality existence, someone at this level could even be the leader.

  Like Spett of the Bone-Worship Society…

  “More dangerous than the Dreamworld,” the golden-winged hawk said coldly, its sharp gaze sweeping over Javon, “is always other Transcendent.”

  The warning was unmistakable.

  Then it spread its wings, kicking up a heavy gust, and carried its student Martin away.

  “Very wary of strangers.” Javon didn’t mind. “Normal. The careless ones are all dead.”

  He chose the opposite direction and began moving.

  Soon a haze rose ahead. The surroundings changed rapidly. After walking a distance, he emerged into a woodland.

  “In the Dreamworld, time and distance are false. I no longer know where I am.”

  Javon closed his eyes. Even so, through mystic linkage, he could sense two lighthouses.

  One was Alice Town.

  The other was the great wetland.

  As a Dreamworld landmark meant to guide beginners, that region clearly has an unchanging property as well.

  He continued onward, climbing a small hill.

  On the other side of the slope, a brilliant sea of flowers bloomed. Each petal was like a tiny sun, spilling light.

  “This is… a sunflower sea?” Javon murmured.

  He remembered that when he opened his first Sephiroth, even finding a single sunflower petal had not been easy. In the end, he had only obtained one through Clark’s connections.

  And now, here in the Dreamworld, he was facing an entire ocean of them.

  “So it’s true… the Dreamworld’s resources are a hundred times richer than the mundane world…”

  Javon sighed in admiration.

  “No wonder, at higher tiers, Transcendent must go into the Dreamworld to advance.”

  As the one who had pushed the two worlds toward fusion, he understood the difference in their foundations better than anyone.

  “Of course—danger is a hundred times greater as well.”

  Javon stepped to the edge of the sunflowers and, with a hand that seemed slow yet was not, seized a small black, double-headed snake. He crushed it casually. The snake turned to ash in his palm, leaving only a crystal the size of a pea.

  A breeze passed through.

  That wind was not merely wind—it was information.

  Within it were meaningless babble, fractured hallucinations, and senseless whispers.

  “A naked spirit-body, caught in that foul wind, could be contaminated.” Javon said quietly. “If I had a body, it would be much safer.”

  He collected several sunflower petals. Another few steps—and the world abruptly became desert.

  Heat warped the air. In rising vapor, several black pyramids seemed to appear ahead.

  A colossal black sandstorm blotted out the sky, plunging the region into gloom. In that darkness, Javon seemed to see a great hawk with broken wings, falling from the sky…