Chapter 642 - 55: Like a Butterfly Struggling to Break from Its Cocoon

Chapter 642: Chapter 55: Like a Butterfly Struggling to Break from Its Cocoon

"Including your memories."

He looked at the golden light.

"So, Murphy, tell me—"

"Do you still dare to swing this sword?"

Murphy didn’t answer.

The Crimson Longsword, covered in cracks—no! It should be called a golden Longsword now, hovered silently in the air.

The golden light was brilliant and dazzling, blanketing the entire night sky, but beyond that, there was no movement.

Seeing his silence, the smile on the Ironspine Duke’s lips grew even wider.

"What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue?"

"You were quite talkative just a moment ago, weren’t you?"

"Something about ’whether it’s futile isn’t for you to decide’—"

"What about now?"

"You’re starting to doubt yourself, aren’t you?"

"You know it yourself. Every word I’ve said is true."

"So, Murphy—"

He raised his hand, pointing at the golden light.

"Do you still dare to swing this sword?"

His answer was a flash of sword light.

The golden sword light erupted from the cracked Longsword!

It scattered its brilliance across the heavens, illuminating the entire night sky, illuminating the entire Continent!

From Taymer Palace to the Holy City, from the Jade Coast to the Iron Ridge Mountain Range, from the northernmost Icefield to the southernmost rainforest—

Countless people awoke from their dreams, looking up at the sky blanketed in golden light.

They saw a light.

A light so brilliant it defied description.

A light that seemed to have existed since the dawn of time, yet was about to illuminate eternity.

The light pierced through the clouds, through the mountains, through every obstacle.

It allowed the entire Continent to see its golden radiance.

And the Ironspine Duke stood at the very center of this light.

His smile froze.

His eyes widened.

His mouth opened, wanting to say something, but no words came out.

The golden light passed through his body.

Through his aura.

Through his past.

Through his future.

It pierced through everything.

And then—

He vanished.

Vanished completely.

His past and future vanished along with him.

As if he had never existed.

...

「Nightmare World.」

Mickey stood there in a daze, staring at the young man in the long black tunic.

A long time had passed since the moment before.

The young man just stood there silently, not moving a muscle.

His hand was still pressed to the spot where the remains his mother had left behind had vanished.

But his eyes were closed.

He was like a statue, frozen in this gray, colorless Nightmare World.

Mickey couldn’t take it anymore.

He carefully sidled up to Rodrick and asked in a hushed voice:

"Um... what’s going on with that... that lord?"

Rodrick didn’t answer right away.

He stared at Murphy, and an indescribable light suddenly flickered in his eyes.

At first, the light was faint, like a candle flame flickering in the night wind.

But soon, the light grew stronger, brighter, and more piercing.

It was as if long-suppressed emotions had finally found an outlet.

"Ha..."

A low chuckle escaped Rodrick’s throat.

"Haha..."

The laughter grew louder and louder.

"Hahahahaha—!"

He finally burst out laughing, howling with laughter, laughing so hard he was about to cry.

"So you have a day like this, too!"

He pointed at Murphy, his voice filled with irrepressible ecstasy:

"You creature from an Alternate Plane, you have a day like this, too!"

"Hahaha! Contaminated by the Nightmare World, have you?"

He laughed without restraint, without a care in the world.

All his suppressed anger, contempt, and hatred erupted in that moment.

Mickey was completely baffled by this sudden turn of events.

He opened his mouth, wanting to ask something, but he didn’t know what to ask.

Just then—

Rodrick’s gaze suddenly turned to him.

His eyes were filled with unconcealed disdain.

"You—"

He glanced sideways at Mickey, a cold sneer on his lips.

"A native of the Nightmare World, and you think you’re worthy of standing while speaking to me?"

The moment the words left his mouth, he kicked out.

Mickey felt a massive force slam into his chest, and his whole body flew backward uncontrollably.

THUD!

He crashed heavily to the ground, landing face-first. He got a mouthful of the hard floor and nearly chipped a tooth.

Sharp pain shot through his cheek, and Mickey’s mind went blank.

He lay sprawled on the ground, his mind a complete void, even forgetting to get up.

’What’s happening?’

’This guy, Rodrick... wasn’t he just being all respectful and cautious toward that lord a moment ago?’

’Why is he laughing so maniacally now?’

’Why did he suddenly kick me?’

’What does he mean, "native of the Nightmare World?"’

’Aren’t I just having a lucid dream?’

’Why does the pain feel so real?’

His mind was a chaotic mess; he couldn’t make sense of the situation at all.

However, before he could sort through the chaos in his head, a strange sound suddenly reached his ears.

THUD! THUD! THUD!

It was the sound of knees hitting the ground.

Mickey struggled to lift his head and looked in the direction of the sound.

And then, he froze.

Rodrick, the middle-aged man who had just been laughing wildly and kicking him with such self-righteousness, was now on his knees, kneeling before the motionless young man.

His forehead was pressed to the ground, and his entire body was trembling violently, like a sieve shaking.

"I’m a lowly fool... a reckless idiot... a useless piece of trash who doesn’t even know his own place..."

The words poured out of his mouth in an endless stream, tinged with sobs, terror, and overwhelming despair.

"I actually dared to make a move against you, my Lord... I dared to question your majesty... What am I... I’m just a mere First-Level Wizard... I’m not even worthy to carry your shoes, my Lord..."

He began to slam his head against the ground.

THUD! THUD! THUD!

Again and again, he slammed it down forcefully.

Blood seeped from his forehead, staining the gray flagstones red.

"I deserve to die... I deserve a thousand deaths..."

"I’m an ungrateful animal... a backstabbing bastard... My Lord spared my dog’s life... but I repaid his kindness with malice... I deserve to die... I deserve to die..."

Mickey lay on the ground, his eyes wide.

He looked at Rodrick, who was kneeling and kowtowing frantically, then back at the young man, who was still motionless with his eyes closed.

His mind was a complete blank.

’What... what in the world is going on?’

Just as Mickey’s brain was struggling to catch up—

Light.

The young man’s body began to glow.

At first, it was just an extremely faint light, like a firefly flickering in the dark.

But the light grew brighter and more intense, becoming dazzling in the blink of an eye.

It was gold.

But it wasn’t just gold.

The light flowed between gold and Crimson—one moment as brilliant as molten gold, the next as red as the setting sun. The two colors intertwined, creating an indescribably magnificent sight.

The light radiated from the young man, spreading outward like ripples.

Wherever it passed—

the grayish mist vanished.

the blurry outlines became clear.

The details that Mickey had needed to concentrate just to barely make out now emerged on their own, rendered in perfect clarity.

Every crack in the walls, every speck of dust on the floor, every mottled mark on the ceiling—

all of it became perfectly, indisputably clear under the light’s glow.

Mickey was stunned.

He looked down at his own hands.

His hands, which had also been grayish entities whose outlines he could only see with intense focus,

but now, under the light, he could see the lines on his palms, the hangnails at the edges of his fingernails, and the tiny scars on his skin.

It was as clear as in the real world.

No—

It was even clearer than the real world.

Details he would never have noticed in reality were now laid bare before his eyes.

Mickey’s mouth fell open, a gasp of amazement escaping his throat.

"The Lord is truly worthy of his title..."

he murmured, his voice filled with sincere admiration.

"He’s just too incredible..."

’This kind of ability, these kinds of methods, this power that can illuminate the entire dreamscape with such clarity—’

’Is this a true Dream Maker?’

’Is this one of those legendary beings who can travel through dreams and weave reality from them?’

An irrepressible sense of worship welled up in Mickey’s heart.

However, his expression suddenly froze.

Because he heard a sound.

CRACK.

It was very faint, very subtle, as if something had split open.

Mickey subconsciously looked toward the sound.

Then, his pupils contracted sharply.

A crack had appeared on the wall.