Chapter 643 - 56: Breathing and Guiding ’Entering the Hall

Chapter 643: Chapter 56: Breathing and Guiding ’Entering the Hall

The crack was thin and long, stretching from the ceiling to the floor, like someone had sliced the wall with an invisible knife.

But that wasn’t what shocked Mickey the most.

What shocked him the most was—

In the glow of the light, the edges of the crack—the shattered sections of the wall—were peeling away, bit by bit.

Like peeling paint, flaking off in small pieces.

And those flaking parts didn’t fall to the ground.

They slowly scattered in the light, turning into countless tiny specks of light before vanishing completely.

Out of the corner of his eye, Mickey scanned the rest of the room.

More cracks were spreading across the walls, the floor, and the ceiling.

CRACK, CRACK, CRACK—

The faint sounds of cracking grew more frequent and louder, like countless insects gnawing away at the space.

Mickey scrambled up from the floor.

He looked around.

The light was still brilliant, still illuminating everything with perfect clarity.

But it was this very clarity that showed him the most terrifying thing—

This space was shattering.

The walls, made crystal clear by the light, were fracturing.

The perfectly clear floor was peeling away.

The perfectly clear ceiling was dissipating.

Like a soap bubble illuminated by light, it was displaying its most brilliant colors just as it reached its breaking point.

Mickey’s breathing grew ragged.

He subconsciously took a step back.

Then he heard a sound from behind him—

CRACK.

He whipped his head around.

On the wall behind him, a huge crack was spreading rapidly, slithering before his eyes like a black viper.

At the edges of the crack, the shattered pieces of the wall began to peel away.

A small piece, then another, then a large chunk—

The fragments scattered in the light, turning into specks of light and disappearing.

Mickey’s heart began to pound.

He looked at the boy again.

The boy was still standing there, motionless.

The interwoven golden and Crimson light still radiated from him ceaselessly, illuminating the disintegrating space.

His face was devoid of expression.

His eyes were still closed.

As if he were completely unaware of everything happening around him.

"Sir..."

Mickey’s voice trembled, tinged with a plea.

"Sir, please stop... this space is going to collapse..."

The boy didn’t react.

The light remained.

The cracks continued to spread.

The space continued to disintegrate.

Mickey’s eyes began to well with tears.

He didn’t know what was happening.

He didn’t know what was happening to the boy.

He only knew that this space was headed for destruction.

And he would be destroyed along with it!

"Sir—!"

He yelled hoarsely, his voice cracking with a sob.

But the boy didn’t answer.

The golden and Crimson light still emanated from his body.

The cracks still spread.

This gray-white dream was, bit by bit, turning to nothing.

Mickey’s mind went blank.

Fear, despair, confusion—a knot of emotions tangled inside him, making it almost impossible to think.

He needed help.

He needed someone who could help him.

His gaze subconsciously swept around, and then, he saw Rodrick.

The middle-aged man who had been laughing so arrogantly and kicking him so self-righteously just moments ago.

The man who was now standing dumbfounded not far away.

Mickey scrambled over, grabbing Rodrick’s sleeve, his voice thick with sobs and pleading:

"Mister! Mister! Do something! Sir... he... I think something’s wrong with him!"

Rodrick didn’t react.

He just stood there, eyes wide, staring at the boy radiating light.

His eyes were terrifyingly vacant.

As if his very soul had been sucked out.

Mickey shook his sleeve forcefully.

"Mister! Did you hear me?! Hurry up and think of something!"

Rodrick’s body swayed slightly from the shaking, but his eyes remained glued to that direction, unmoving.

After several seconds, his lips finally twitched.

"It’s no use..."

His voice was so hoarse it was almost inaudible, as if forced from the depths of his throat.

"It’s no use... He’s a dead man..."

Mickey froze.

"What did you say?"

Rodrick’s eyes remained fixed on the boy, but an indescribably complex emotion suddenly flickered within their vacant depths.

Fear.

Relief.

And a hint of satisfaction.

"This is Elementalization... over one hundred percent Elementalization... I’ve seen it... I’ve seen this kind of thing before..."

His body began to tremble slightly.

"In the Nightmare World... some Wizards who are severely corrupted by nightmares... some of them end up like this..."

"Nightmare Transformation... then the dream begins to disintegrate... and then... and then..."

He couldn’t continue.

Mickey’s hand slowly loosened its grip on his sleeve.

He looked at Rodrick’s deathly pale face, at his vacant eyes, listened to his broken words, his mind a total mess.

’Elementalization?’

’Over 100%?’

He didn’t understand.

But he understood the last sentence—

"He’s a dead man."

Mickey slowly turned his head and looked at the boy again.

The boy was still motionless.

Like a statue about to shatter, standing there quietly, awaiting its final destruction.

Tears finally streamed down Mickey’s face.

"How could this be happening..."

He murmured as his legs gave out and he collapsed to his knees.

The golden and Crimson light continued to shine.

The cracks continued to spread.

This gray-white dream was about to dissolve into nothingness.

Just then—

The boy’s eyes slowly opened.