Chapter 805 — Entering the Dream
Blade of Dawn · Page 1 of 4
Within the palace frozen in the dusk, the corridors ran deep and long, the halls broad and empty, and whispers of unknown origin echoed low behind every door, as though countless unseen guests were gathered in this ancient and illusory palace, carrying on their never-ending banquet while casting malicious, appraising eyes upon any visitor who dared step inside.
Luo Yan Augustus's footsteps rang out abruptly in the empty corridor.
The ruler of the Typhon Empire walked along the corridor he had traversed countless times, as though he did not hear the eerie whispers that kept rising around him; his figure cast shadows of varying length beneath the narrow windows that spilled dusk light, and each shadow, once it appeared, seemed about to come alive and trembled faintly—yet under the emperor's disregard, it slowly settled back into stillness.
He came to the deepest chamber of the palace, to the place where the portraits of the Augustuses of every generation hung.
Expressionless faces were set into pitch-black frames, fixing Luo Yan Augustus with cold, icy stares; within some frames the images had come alive, and they leaned toward the neighboring frames, whispering and muttering in turbid, inhuman tones.
Every one of the frames that had "come alive" held an Augustus from the past two hundred years—Augustuses born and active after the Great Collapse of the old imperial capital, after the curse descended.
Those who had lived between seven hundred and two hundred years ago, by contrast, stayed quietly in their frames, serving merely as cold, lifeless portraits.
Luo Yan was used to it.
Nightmares were the product of the curse and, at the same time, a reflection of the cursed one's inner world. Taking the collapse of the old capital two hundred years ago as its dividing line: before the Great Collapse, the souls of the Augustuses had been free, and nightmares could project only soulless phantoms; but the Augustuses after the Great Collapse were trapped within this dream world, becoming the source of its many bizarre phenomena and making this nightmare realm ever more strange and perilous.
Luo Yan's gaze swept over the portraits that had come alive, his expression cold.
Those were his forebears, his ancestors—some the people closest to him in childhood, some the very prototypes of the heroic tales he had heard since boyhood. But that was who they had been in life; now they were merely part of this eerie dream palace, a link in the curse. In their presence, any expectation of kinship or humanity would only bring a wretched end sooner—this was the hard-won lesson the Augustuses had learned generation after generation, at the cost of their lives.
Yet so long as one kept hold of one's reason and restrained greed and recklessness, the shadows in these nightmares had other uses.
Among the living portraits, Luo Yan's grandfather, the wise Emperor George Augustus, seemed to notice something; his pale, shriveled face turned, his gaze settling on Luo Yan Augustus, and his low, eerie muttering became sounds a human could recognize: "Ah, look who has come... my dear grandson... are you well?"
Another portrait nearby grew lively as well and glanced at Luo Yan: "He doesn't look well to me—see how weary he is. Ruling an empire is no easy thing. Child, you should learn to regulate your condition; don't squander your life so early."
Several other portraits nearby promptly chimed in.
Luo Yan ignored the buzzing conversation and merely said, in an indifferent tone: "This palace is appearing more and more often. What change does that foretell?"
"How cold..." the portraits said one after another.
Luo Yan only watched them, his face blank.
"What change do you want? To be closer to us?" Emperor George Augustus laughed in a hoarse, low voice. "What a pity—though we too long for the day when our kin are reunited, you have refused so very well all along. This nightmare is still... far from you."