The powers of sleep and fear surged, coalescing into pure darkness, silently annihilating and erasing everything.
This was the authority of the night.
The Nightmare Dragon snapped awake, but its mental state slid into the abyss for the third time. Seized by the Misfortune Goddess, no amount of "Pacify" or "Mental Healing" could save it!
Sss!
The power of night fully infiltrated the Nightmare Dragon's body.
A faint smile crossed the Misfortune Goddess's misty face. She nodded slightly, her slender fingers snapping lightly.
Snap!
The Nightmare Dragon's massive body turned into a simple sketch, effortlessly erased by a rubber eraser.
This time, it had no resistance, banished to a concealed world—the Misfortune Goddess's private domain.
Her figure vanished for a considerable time, entering the concealed world for final measures.
When the Angel of Concealment appeared, all darkness dissipated.
A chaotic, indescribable aura emerged, severing something conceptual.
The Angel of Concealment looked into the distance, beyond the concealed barrier.
Sasrir, holding the Blasphemy Slate, stood on a shrub-covered hill, nodding lightly toward the Angel of Concealment.
The Angel of Concealment nodded back, turning to leave, flickering as it moved, gradually vanishing at the horizon's end.
Its task was complete.
Sasrir shifted his gaze to the dragon at his feet.
This wasn't a mind dragon, but a Dragon of Wisdom.
It lacked the mind dragon's scales that flickered between reality and illusion, or the maddening mystical patterns.
Instead, it bore brass-colored motifs—some like eyes, others like books—glimmering with wisdom's unique light.
It was exceptional among dragons.
It keenly sensed the anomaly in the concealment, detecting something afoot, and came searching, only to encounter Sasrir, who was here to prevent mishaps.
The Angel of Concealment's ability to easily locate the Nightmare Dragon in the collective conscious sea naturally stemmed from Sasrir's assistance.
"'Dragon of Wisdom' Herabergen, where is your wisdom now?"
Sasrir lightly tapped the Blasphemy Slate, smiling gently at the Dragon of Wisdom.
…
"Roar!"
Suddenly, the Dragon of Imagination, lurking in the collective unconscious sea of the city-state's humans behind Truman, unleashed a terrifying roar.
All who heard it—human or angel—fell into a dazed state, as if forgetting themselves.
Even Truman's mind faltered, scattered, barely able to focus!
Buzz… A divine protection slowly enveloped, gently dispelling the roar's dire effects.
"You foolish dragon, trying to ambush me?!" A blazing thunderbolt formed a spear, hurled by the Elf King.
Sunlight erupted here, the sea of sunlight flooding the collective unconscious sea.
The Dragon of Imagination had merely observed the divine war from afar, but that roar signaled its entry to the two warring gods!
The Elf King and Ancient Sun God's attacks instantly targeted the Dragon of Imagination.
"Roar!" Unwilling to engage these two, the Dragon of Imagination fled to the City of Miracles at top speed.
Its retreat halted the battle between the Ancient Sun God and Elf King, leaving it unresolved.
Knowing the Dragon of Imagination was watching, both tacitly avoided escalating to full force, each stepping back.
The Dragon of Imagination, returned to the City of Miracles, exuded tyrannical, frenzied aura, resembling the Elven Tyrant if not for its draconic form.
"Where is Alzuhod?!" Its cold voice echoed in the minds of all dragons in the City of Miracles.
Many dragons spiraled into madness—those with impure characteristics, previously stabilized by the Dragon of Imagination's pacification.
Now, its tyrannical side emerged, as if to emulate the Annihilation Demonic Wolf, slaughtering its kin!
"Herabergen!" The Dragon of Imagination's gaze fell on a subordinate god nearby.
The Dragon of Wisdom, oppressed, fell from its stone pillar, its mental state plunging into frenzy, teetering on loss of control.
After a long time, the Dragon of Wisdom recovered, looking up at the still-furious Dragon of Imagination.
"Alzuhod went to Nightmare City…"
"Then everything was concealed, and Nightmare City vanished entirely." The Dragon of Wisdom's body trembled uncontrollably.
"…" The Dragon of Imagination closed its eyes, its aura tyrannical and frenzied. A mental storm projected into reality, tormenting all dragons, who couldn't even cry out in pain.
After what felt like half a day, the mental storm subsided, easing the dragons' plight, at least sparing them total loss of control.
"Very well!" The Dragon of Imagination seemed to grasp everything, its eyes chillingly cold, glinting with menace.
"Ariehogg, Shienhogg…" It named Sequence 2 dragons of the Visionary pathway, summoning them to the temple.
These dragons dared not disobey, but the "Dragon of Wisdom" Herabergen, being of a different pathway, was exempt.
Yet Herabergen and other uncalled dragons remained frozen, only able to wait.
As the blood moon hung high, the summoned dragons emerged from the temple, unchanged, still themselves.
But Herabergen, prostrate on the ground, trembled, only rising much later to return to its palace.
"The elves and sun suffered no great losses." Standing on the coastline, watching the Queen of Calamity Cohinem vanish entirely, Truman's mouth twitched. "The Dragon of Imagination, the spectator, lost the most."
The sky's lightning and sunlight had fully dissipated.
"Oh, and the giants."
"The giants, who sparked the divine war, became mere onlookers, staring down the Phoenix."
"And Devil Monarch Farbauti, still lingering near the Abyss, too wary to emerge."
Perhaps the deaths of ancient gods like the Annihilation Demonic Wolf shook Farbauti. It persisted in dragging the world into the Abyss but had grown far more cautious.
"The Angel of Dreams remains the Angel of Dreams, but perhaps not entirely normal…"
With a complex expression, he opened the Book of Dreams to the fourth page, an unmastered third branch of authority.
When the Elf King's gaze fell on him, the Book of Dreams briefly erupted in a way he'd never seen.
That moment seemed to reveal something deeper.
He… or It, perhaps even it, might not be human.
"Am I Sefirot incarnate?" A grave question, tied to Truman's self-identity.
(End of Chapter)