Chapter 1170 - 539: Divine Crystal and "Dream

Chapter 1170: Chapter 539: Divine Crystal and "Dream

She eagerly touched her legs again, feeling the warmth of human limbs, rather than the cold, slippery snake tail.

It was as if she suddenly was no longer the Snake Girl who had awakened the demon’s bloodline, but just an ordinary human village girl.

Just like the past.

"What, what is this place after all?"

She struggled to prop herself up and looked around.

A small room, a rough wooden table, several strings of dried, darkened jerky hanging on the wall—everything identical to the home deep in her memory.

Outside the window came the barking of a neighbor’s dog and the familiar rural accent of an old woman calling her husband to eat.

Teresa pinched her arm, and a clear feeling of pain ensued.

"Is it a dream? But this is too real..."

Yet oddly, everything was so real; she could even feel the prickly sensation of the grass mat beneath her and smell the aroma of rye bread in the air.

The overly complete details began to shake her originally firm perception.

It brought forth confusing thoughts, involuntarily considering all her previous experiences as a bizarre and prolonged dream.

"Could it be that those horrifying experiences, along with Lord Herbert and Yunier... could all that just have been a long, terrifying nightmare?"

Had she merely slept and had a lengthy nightmare?

Once this thought arose, it was overwhelmingly seductive, like a warm tide wanting to drown her completely.

If all that were a dream, wouldn’t that be wonderful...

The girl’s mind wavered violently.

She could still be that ordinary Teresa, living in a peaceful village, with...

However, just as she was nearly convinced by this "reality," a faint yet incredibly sharp sense of dissonance arose from deep within her body.

It was an instinctive urge from the tip of her tongue to probe the air for more information and a familiarity with a different way of moving stored in muscle memory.

These subtle "marks," which did not belong to village girl Teresa, pierced the perfect facade of the dream like fine needles.

"No, that’s not right..."

She shook her head vigorously, trying to dispel the intoxicating sense of ease.

"Yunier’s face is so clear, the warmth of Lord Herbert’s palm, and the sensation of scales growing when transforming..."

Teresa took a deep breath, beginning to recall her past experiences, remembering every plant and tree of the Elda Territory, trying to grasp those anchors of "reality" to combat the bizarre dream.

This is a dream.

Yes, it must be a nightmare!

She strived to awaken, attempting to escape from the dream.

Teresa struggled to get out of bed, wanting to rush out of the room, run outside, and use stronger stimuli to break this dream.

She stumbled out of the bedroom, and pushed the door, entering the living room.

The sunlight streaming through the window became more gentle, the sounds outside more pleasant, and even the aroma of bread in the air grew more enticing.

Nothing wavered due to her panic, the dream unchanged, without any sign of awakening.

"I want to escape, but where to? Ultimately, which side is real..."

Just as Teresa’s will fiercely oscillated between "indulging" and "awakening," like a taut bowstring about to snap—the kitchen door was gently pushed open.

"Oh? Not continuing your nap?"

Who!!?

Teresa spun around abruptly, squinting towards the direction of the voice.

A silhouette stood at the doorway against the light, its outline soft, carrying an incredibly familiar yet long-lost aura.

She saw clearly.

It was a woman in a simple linen dress, with a clean apron tied around her waist, and seemingly some flour still on her hands.

Her face was obscured, blurred by the light preventing clear sight, yet Teresa’s heart momentarily ceased to beat.

But just as she was about to awaken, she saw a woman she had never met yet knew exactly who it was—

She had never seen her in person.

Before Teresa was born, she had died due to complications in childbirth.

She existed only in the fragmented tales that the man would mention when drunk.

Yet now, a resonance from the deepest bloodline, a confirmation at the soul level, made her utter the title instinctively.

"...Mom, Mother?"

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