Chapter 711 — Deep in Slumber

"So you can tell whether a person is dreaming from their snoring..." Amber didn't react at first and muttered half a sentence on instinct, but before she finished she grasped Gao Song's meaning. "Wait... entered a dream?! The Eternal Sleeper kind?!"

No one present was a fool; after Gao Cen's reminder, nearly all of them understood. The woman knight Margarita, who had once personally led troops to clear out several cult dens within the realm, thought of those uncanny and dangerous powers of the Eternal Sleepers, and a stern expression came over her face at once. Beside her, Pi Yun stroked his beard and knit his brows: "Now that you mention it... it is indeed possible..."

The old man was, after all, a double-duty cultist who had fed at the tables of both the Eternal Sleepers and the Order of All Things' End — a veteran of the fence-sitting world, so to speak. With him saying so, Gao Yang immediately felt his judgment was solid: within the nest at the great tree's roots there existed a formless dream, and Bardwindel had fallen prey to it.

"But how is that possible?" Pi Yun's face showed incomprehension. "This is the nest of the Order of All Things' End—they don't have dream technology..."

Gao Yang's brow furrowed slightly as he suddenly recalled what had happened during the Sentinel Tower reinforcement and repair project at the Great Wall.

He had unexpectedly encountered members of the Order of All Things' End within a dream connection—among them, even Beyira, who should have died seven hundred years ago...

The Order of All Things' End did possess dream technology. Even if they lacked the technique itself, they certainly had the relevant equipment. Among the three great dark sects, apart from the Storm Children, whose behavioral patterns were rather baffling, the other two had always maintained close private ties. It was entirely normal for remnants of the Eternal Sleeper's creations to be found within the nest of the Order of All Things' End.

Pi Yun, as a double heretic of two cults, had failed to think of this at once—it seemed the old man's heart had never truly been in the cults back then; most likely he had simply joined to scrounge for meals.

Pi Yun raised his head in confusion, unable to understand why Gao Yang had suddenly glanced at him—and sighed while doing so.

Gao Yang offered no explanation. After some speculation about the underground situation, he had already formed a rough plan—one far safer than sending men down.

"Let me try to pull Bard out," he instructed those beside him. "This process requires concentration. Keep watch on the surroundings."

Amber reacted with uncommon swiftness this time. "Oh, you're going to 'meditate' again, aren't you? Guarding the ritual—I know this job well..."

...

In this endless dream—driven by obsession, repeating the pathetic self-deception of a failure—Bard had long since lost count of how many times he had cycled through.

He sat at the long table in the unchanging council chamber, bright lights illuminating the hall, the prelates seated around the table discussing shifts in the situation and subsequent plans.

Bard was speaking too. He did not know why he sat here speaking, but his mouth opened and closed of its own accord, uttering sentences he had never conceived:

"...The missionary work in the eastern part of the continent is going smoothly. We have already..."

Voices rose around him from time to time, all familiar faces. Looking at these speakers, Bard felt a profound calm settle over his heart.

Yet he vaguely sensed that he should not be so calm. He had come here... for some task.

What was the task again?

The scene before his eyes suddenly shuddered. A round of meetings concluded, and a new scene was swiftly generated. In this composite dream formed from a multitude of obsessions, the dominant figure kept changing, the dream's theme kept changing—and Bardwindel himself was but one of dozens of consciousnesses within this dream.

He sat once more at the long table and felt his Adam's apple move up and down, as though preparing to speak.

But a hand suddenly settled on his shoulder, making him start violently.

A long-lost clarity surged abruptly into his mind. A flood of memories, seemingly forgotten for a century, rushed forth all at once—along with the tension, dread, and other emotions from the moment before he had plunged entirely into the dream. But before Bard could sort through these contents that had reappeared in his mind, he heard a voice—authoritative and steady—coming from behind him: "Awake?"

Compared to this terrifying dream, the sudden voice nearly made Bard leap from his skin. He sprang to his feet and turned to see the tall figure of Gao Yang Cecil standing behind him.

For a moment the sense of unreality washed over him again, and he could scarcely distinguish reality from dream.

Gao Yang spoke again, his voice seeming to carry some power that roused one to clarity within a dream: "Stay awake. You are still in the dream, but your consciousness has woken. So long as you do not engage in unnecessary doubt or association, your spirit-body is safe."

"A dream? Oh right, this is a dream..." Bard blinked, gradually shaking off the aftereffects of the terrifying dream and slowly recovering his capacity for thought. The next moment, he finally registered the incongruity of Gao Yang's presence here. "Wait—this is a dream... so why are you in—"

"I am still above. Right now I am speaking with you through my consciousness," Gao Yang explained briefly, then began surveying the council chamber. The "meetings" in the hall were still proceeding again and again, yet to his eyes they seemed like one farcical play after another. "Interesting. I never imagined the roots of this giant tree would contain a dream..."

Bard stared at Gao Yang in sheer astonishment. He had already vaguely realized that this dream was likely connected to the "technical exchange" between the Eternal Sleeper and the Order of All Things' End—which made Gao Yang's direct projection of his consciousness here all the more shocking. He could not fathom how the other had managed it.

Perhaps this was one of Gao Yang Cecil's secrets.

And now he had come into contact with this secret.

Bard's heart went cold, and he grew all the more cautious.

Gao Yang noticed the change in Bard's expression and had a fair idea of what the man was thinking, but he paid it no mind. Instead he turned his head and regarded the entrance on the other side of the hall with keen interest.

A new individual had appeared in the dream—a figure was emerging there.

After making out the outline of that figure, Gao Yang raised an eyebrow.

Beyira Augustus walked into the hall.