Chapter 55: Nightmare

Chapter 55: Nightmare.

The wind in the illusionary dream world hissed. Yi Jyuhan was prepared now.

Xue Lan straightened himself. At that moment the moon turned red, blood beginning to fall on the ground. The stars dropped in pitch black. The sky became crimson.

The Curator’s eyes darted around the changing domain.

The moon split again. It fell toward Xue Lan; gradually its size shortened, and changed the shape into a sword. Xue Lan clenched it in his hand. The very moment it touched him, the sword turned bloody. His hand traced the center; slowly, he stretched the sharp edges of the blade, and he held the curved sword. It spilt into different sharp needles, floating around him.

Finally, the metal formed in his hand. Sharp claws with an unusual pale texture of moon. "That is the night-singer. Now you are in my nightmare stage of dreams." Xue Lan whispered.

From the shadows, moths appeared, but they were not beautiful Luna moths anymore. They were grey, their eyes a complete void. They were larger than a moth should be. Black fangs embedded in their mouth and mutilated sharp wings like a knife.

The Curator swept His gaze around. "A full manifestation..." He murmured. "Interesting, but that’d cause you to faint soon, won’t it?"

The night-singer claws and sword glinted in the red light. "Don’t be concerned." Xue Lan positioned himself. Finally prepared completely.

Yi Jyuhan swung his fan. The red beam erupted again. The dream world began to merge; the sky split into an endless space with black holes. A complete darkness. The wind wuthering against the ground.

The red beam from Yi Jyuhan’s fan tore through the crimson sky, colliding directly with the spot where the Curator stood. At the exact same microsecond, Xue Lan vanished.

The void-eyed grey moths swarmed, their knife-like wings screeching against the wind. All of them rushed and aimed at the Curator’s body to shred Him. Their fangs bit into His skin. But bones forged around Him and covered His body like armor again.

Clang! Clang! Clang!

The sound of metal echoed, but the Curator’s flesh remained unbreakable from them. He stood entirely still within the swirling vortex of insects. The monstrous moths shattered into grey dust of meat. While the light broke through His armor, burning His flesh. "Tch," He held His hand above, trying to counter the light.

"Impressive work." The Curator said, His voice entirely unaffected by the gravity of the black holes pulling at His clothes. "But your efforts are nothing more than just a bedtime story to me."

The ground beneath Him shattered, and He disappeared, avoiding the crimson light.

Xue Lan was beside Him already; the Curator threw His hand at him. Xue Lan stood at the other side now, not even moving but just choosing to stand where he wanted to.

Then Yi Jyuhan pulled his fan backward; the Curator’s flesh shredded, but they couldn’t even see what was inside before the strings closed the wounds. Yi Jyuhan and Xue Lan rushed back to back, the Curator blocking each hit effortlessly with the spine.

Finally, the Curator slammed His spine-sword on the ground; a large cluster formed. Yi Jyuhan moved his fan sideways and came beside Him.

Xue Lan simply jumped, and an illusionary staircase held him in the air. He quickly twisted his body, aiming a kick at Curator’s face.

’He’ quickly blocked it with His forearm. Xue Lan’s nebula-violet eyes twinkled. Just at that moment, the cluster increased in size. The Curator’s sense lowered instantly. He fell on His own made cluster.

Only then did ’He’ realize that this was all just an illusion. The cluster was ahead of Him. He tried to balance himself, the spine smacking the ground.

Yi Jyuhan didn’t give Him a moment. He clenched the fan tightly, His fingers bleeding by the force. Then, He swung it with full force. The light illuminated the entire place in a more visceral crimson light. The Curator was distracted by Xue Lan’s illusion before He felt His body being pushed by the light.

The gravity pulled Him toward the beam, and the light pushed Him back. He was in the center of the unmoving forces.

Xue Lan’s voice hissed from the shadows. The night-singer needles shot from the darkness toward him. The phantom needles pierced through every part of the Curator.

Yi Jyuhan snapped his fan shut. The gravity of the endless black holes doubled, pinning the Curator’s shadow to the floor to freeze His movement.

It was a flawless trap.

Xue Lan appeared directly above the Curator, the pale moon-textured claws aimed straight for the Curator’s throat, backed by the entire weight of a collapsing dream world. The Curator couldn’t cough, yet He forced His body to bypass the gravity. His flesh began to tear by the force, but as soon as the strings sewed it.

He simply raised His left index finger.

BOOM.

An invisible wave of pure, concentrated pressure erupted from His fingertip. The night-singer needles shattered into microscopic glass shards. The gravity of black holes violently inverted, exploding outward and blowing Yi Jyuhan backward until his back violently struck against a house’s wall.

Xue Lan’s claws stopped exactly three inches from the Curator’s neck, held back by an absolute wall of sheer force. Blood sprayed from Xue Lan’s mouth as the backlash of his own nightmare domain cracked under the Curator’s pressure.

"Failing too soon there, huh?" the Curator whispered, finally looking at Xue Lan in the eyes. "I’ve seen enough inconvenience." With a casual flick of His wrist, the Curator sent Xue Lan crashing into the crimson dirt, the night-singer claws groaning under the strain of total structural collapse.

The duo was running out of time, and the Curator hadn’t even drawn his strongest weapon yet.

Xue Lan gasped, his back aching. "Grgh, he is much more manageable than I thought."

Yi Jyuhan clenched his head, walking back toward Xue Lan. "Yeah, that’s odd. We should have died by now."

"Hmm," Xue Lan narrowed his eyes. "I can’t see any deception here; it’s actually real, but..."

***

Meanwhile.

In the palace. Lin ran by the pathway, eyes scanning to find the Cursed Womb. She went through the garden; above her, the palace was vast as if there was no end to it. She ran between the pathway and pushed the main door of the palace open. Inside, the palace was empty. No cultists were there. Did the Curator move them from here? She thought while observing the whole ground.

There were two interconnected staircases, reaching to the rooftop. "That cannot be on the roof."

Her gaze focused on another path; there was no gate, just an empty path. On the ground, there were footsteps of horses and a wheelbarrow. She rushed to that path. Silence spread further.

Thock. Thock. Thock.

She could even hear her heartbeats. The pathway stretched and reached a large hall. In the center the wheelbarrow rested; she quickly drew her blade out. "Just one shot."

She walked toward it; the horses were nowhere to be seen.

She reached out her hand toward the cloth that covered the Womb. She pulled it, opening the cage.

Inside the woman was hanged by the trees, whimpering every one or two minutes. The tree’s branches held her too tightly. Her stomach was unbearably bulged. Lin stopped to look, but then her gaze fell on the bottom of the wheelbarrow.

At the surface.

Someone sat there, holding a spear. He had black hair and brown eyes. He wore the same outfit as the other royal guards. The man looked over her shoulder and said, "Finally, I’ve been getting bored."

Lin pointed her blade at the man. "Who are you?"

The man jumped from the wheelbarrow, clothes fluttering. "Bai Ning. A royal guard here."

Lin’s gaze swept over him. "How?"

"You’d be surprised, but I was hidden from everyone. The Mistress had planned everything." Bai Ning’s lips twitched in a wide grin. "She knew that the Astral cult would attack again. So she planned to hide me, so now I came and waited here."

Lin narrowed her eyes. "Let me guess. You won’t move from here."

Bai Ning straightened and said with a light hearted wicked laugh. "Yes, now I will not let you live either."

Lin braced herself. Her sword focused on the enemy ahead. Her eyes darted to the Cursed Womb. The woman’s face hidden behind her hair, the thing inside twitched her body.

Bai Ning followed her gaze. "Ah, the Cursed Womb. You see, our God will be born within the next twenty minutes." A silent chuckle in his mouth which sickened Lin; she finally focused her gaze on him.

She heaved a long sigh. "Twenty minutes, huh? I should have known there would be a trap."

"Trap? So you consider me a threat. That’s a compliment." Bai Ning pointed his spear toward her throat. "But that’s the last compliment I’d take."

"Illiterate thinking."

The tree gripped the woman’s hands tighter. Her belly had swollen to its limit. It had turned black, the dark vein spreading further.

Can I really manage this sooner... She thought, her hand clenching the hilt tightly. This man is a royal guard, but what if he is Ordinal six?