“What do you mean by that?”
When Ludger asked, Seridan spoke in a voice that sounded far less confident than usual.
“I... honestly, I won’t be of any help.”
“There must be a reason you think that.”
“My specialty won’t work here. There are no explosives, no materials to make anything. Sure, if I searched, I might find something—but there’s no time to gather and combine it into something new.”
Seridan’s talent lay in assembling and creating things.
Her greatest strength, especially, was in making explosives.
Outside, with proper support, Seridan had no problem creating whatever she needed.
But here was different.
Not a single one of the basic materials was available.
With even the fundamentals missing, there was nothing she could do.
Her bold nature and fearless tendency to charge ahead only worked when her abilities could back it up.
Seridan wasn’t stupid enough to stubbornly force herself in a situation like this.
“Hm.”
Ludger understood her thoughts well enough.
“Truthfully, I’ve been feeling the same way.”
Sedina confessed her honest feelings too.
“My magic doesn’t work properly here. Spells take too long to cast, and more than anything—the voices of the plants I used to hear aren’t reaching me at all.”
She had been so overjoyed at becoming a true green mage recently.
She had been full of hope that she could finally stop dragging everyone down, that she could be of real use to Ludger.
And yet—this was the result.
In the dream world, she couldn’t hear the voices of plants.
The plants here were nothing but illusions shaped by unconsciousness and memory.
Not real—so Sedina couldn’t control them.
In the end, all she could use were her paper spells. But even those struggled under Dreamland’s rules.
Like Seridan, Sedina believed she was useless here.
“I understand both of your positions. If you would only drag the team down, then not going may seem better. But I do not agree. That is nothing more than giving up.”
“But, my lord, this is the reality. If we insist on doing what clearly won’t work, it’ll only cause bigger problems.”
Seridan didn’t want to say it, but she had to.
As her usual behavior showed, Seridan was a dwarf girl with strong pride.
Not just in creating things.
Now, when her comrades had to fight in dangerous circumstances, being unable to do anything left her deeply frustrated.
It was the same for Sedina.
Ludger glanced between them, then nodded.
“True. As you are now, you may indeed be useless.”
At those blunt words, both of their faces darkened.
“But perhaps you’ve forgotten—that limitation only applies in reality.”
“...So there’s a way?”
“This is not the real world. This is Dreamland.”
“Which means this place has its own rules?”
“One of Dreamland’s characteristics is that imagination becomes reality.”
For example—
In Ludger’s hand appeared his staff.
Black with subtle gold accents, topped with a raven-shaped carving.
It was not the usual way he summoned his staff.
Normally he drew it from the shadows. But here he conjured it out of empty air.
Sedina and Seridan’s eyes went wide.
The sight of the two small figures reacting the same way reminded Ludger of children seeing magic for the first time.
“In Dreamland, magic, spirit arts, necromancy—none of it functions properly. This world is governed by rules wholly separate from the reality we knew.”
So in Dreamland, one had to follow Dreamland’s ways.
“From now on, discard your old common sense. Believe with certainty that you can do anything.”
“My lord, how did you manage it?”
“I just did it. And it worked.”
What kind of answer was that?
Seridan stared at him in disbelief at his confident expression.
But for Ludger, it came naturally—he was used to working with Dreamland’s logic.
The ‘true magic’ he used was not of reason but of emotion.
And the rule here, that conviction and imagination became reality, was strikingly similar to that ‘true magic.’
“I know it’s difficult. To imagine something and make it real—it sounds absurd, and carrying it out is harder still.”
“Then... any advice at all?”
Sedina asked, and Ludger paused before answering.
“The simplest place to start is with what you do best. What you like most.”
“What I like?”
Seridan’s twin braids twitched at that.
As if catching on to something, she spread open her right hand and stared intently at her palm.
“Mmmghhh...”
Her eyelids trembled, her face twitching as though in a spasm—
And in her palm, something appeared as if by magic.
“Got it!”
Her face lit up with joy.
What she had created was a stick of dynamite.
There was no mistaking it. Seridan’s greatest talent was making explosives.
She immediately hurled the dynamite into a nearby puddle.
“Blow up!”
The dynamite splashed into the water, and after a brief delay—it exploded.
The surface churned violently, a thin pillar of water shooting skyward.
Hans and Sedina widened their eyes in shock, though Seridan herself didn’t look pleased.
“The power’s lacking!”
Just from the size of the water pillar, it was obvious—her dynamite was far weaker than the real thing.
“What went wrong?”
“Because, unconsciously, you doubted it would work. This place is influenced by the unconscious. Unless you control that as well, it will be difficult.”
“So it’s harder than I thought.”
Ludger shook his head.
“No, it’s impressive. Most people couldn’t manage it even if I explained the method. You fell short of your expectations, but your dynamite still exploded, did it not?”
“Still, it’s frustrating. But if I keep practicing, it’ll get stronger, right?”
“Yes.”
Her dynamite might have lacked raw force, but it had other strengths.
When she threw it, she hadn’t needed a fuse or detonator.
And yet it had still exploded. That meant all the fiddly steps required in reality could be ignored here.
‘Probably because she only focused on the explosion itself, instinctively leaving out the troublesome parts.’
If she could refine that imagination and learn to wield it properly, it would be a weapon greater than any.
‘Even in a world as absurd as this, if you adapt, you can find another path.’
Indeed, those who had failed to show their talents in reality might shine here in Dreamland.
‘Whether that leads to good outcomes or greater dangers, we’ll have to wait and see.’
Ludger’s gaze turned to Hans and Sedina, both still looking dazed.
“Prepare yourselves. Before we depart, you must at least grasp the basics of wielding power here.”
“B-Boss?”
“Be warned—my lessons show no mercy.”
“W-wait, why all of a sudden—”
Before Hans could finish, Sedina—already straightening like a soldier—answered first, quick and loud.
“Yes! Understood, teacher!”
Hans swallowed hard.
Now he understood why Ludger had such a fearsome reputation among the Seorn students.
When Ludger was teaching—he was a completely different person.
* * *
“So you’re saying... you just imagined it in your head, and it happened?”
“Yeah.”
At Aidan’s bright reply, Leo pressed his hand to his forehead.
“...That’s what you call an answer?”
“But it’s the truth.”
The unbelievable strength Aidan had displayed was the main focus of everyone gathered here.
How had he shown such power?
The answer he gave was utterly outlandish.
“Imagination, you say.”
They wanted to argue that it made no sense, yet remembering what Aidan had actually done, they couldn’t flatly deny it either.
“So what you’re saying is, when you imagined yourself cutting down those rock crabs with your staff, you really could slice through them all?”
“Yeah.”
“How can that make sense? And more than that, how do you even imagine that? Wouldn’t you normally assume it wouldn’t work?”
Aidan scratched his cheek with his index finger.
“Mm. I guess because things got urgent, I felt like I had no choice but to do it. But if I jumped in and got beaten, you guys would just end up worrying, right?”
“Does a sane person just charge in like that?”
“Haha, sorry. But deep down I was certain it would work. Maybe it’s that beast instinct I learned from the beastkin? It went beyond ‘I must do this’—it became ‘I can do this,’ and so it just worked.”
The more Aidan explained, the more the other students’ expressions grew uncertain.
For mages trained in strict theory, this idea of “imagination” didn’t sit easily.
“He’s right.”
The one who suddenly supported Aidan was none other than Flora, the de facto leader of the group.
“When I clearly pictured something in my head, the spell formed far more easily than when I tried to use a formal casting.”
“Flora, is that really true?”
At Sheryl’s question, everyone’s eyes turned to Flora.
She twirled a strand of her now-dark-tinged hair around her finger.
“Considering this is a dream world, it’s natural to think the unique environment is affecting things. You all know the saying, right? In dreams, anything can happen. People can fly, children can become adults. It’s the same here.”
“Then... does that mean we can too...?”
Taishy’s hopeful words were cut down cold by Flora.
“Not so easily.”
“Why not?”
“Because completely manifesting what you picture in your mind might sound appealing, but it’s hardly something simple.”
“But you won’t know unless you try!”
At Taishy's protest, Flora let out a short laugh.
“Really? Then, go ahead—don’t think of a cat.”
“...Huh?”
“A cat. Easy, right? Just don’t think about a cat.”
For a moment Taishy looked flustered—then, small cats appeared around her.
Their fur was red, the same shade as Taishy's hair.
“W-what the—?”
“A cat? Out of nowhere?”
Cats popping out of empty air—unbelievable.
Taishy stared down at the little one rubbing against her leg in utter disbelief.
“Why... why is this happening...?”
“See? Proof you can’t even properly control your own thoughts.”
“But it’s just a cat.”
“Oh? Are you sure it’s really a cat?”
Flora lowered her voice.
Her chilling tone made Taishy flinch.
“Can you truly believe that’s a cat? What if it’s actually a monster disguised in that shape? What if the way it’s ★ 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ★ rubbing against you isn’t affection, but a trick to lull you into letting your guard down?”
Flora’s words sank into Taishy's ears like a curse.
Her brain, against her will, forced those images upon her.
No. Don’t imagine it. Don’t think about it.
But her mind betrayed her.
Kyaaaak!
The cat at her feet twisted grotesquely.
Its mouth split wide, razor teeth snapping toward her ankle—
Bang!
A burst of magic light from Flora blew the creature’s head apart.
The cat-shaped monster scattered into smoke.
Taishy, drenched in cold sweat, clenched her fists.
“You see? When people are told not to do something, they cling to it all the more. How do you plan to handle a power that doesn’t obey your will?”
Flora’s gaze swept across the others.
The excitement stirred by the strange cat had drained, replaced with heavy dread.
“The same goes for you. This power here may be great, but misuse it, and it will become poison. I’ll leave it to your imagination to figure out the consequences.”
Dreamwalkers who ventured into the mid-layer trained their minds rigorously to avoid being devoured by their own unconscious.
No one was perfect.
Even the most cheerful, positive person could fall into gloom when their condition faltered.
And in Dreamland, such negative thoughts became harsh reality.
“You have to master your unconscious and emotions completely. Do you really think you can manage that without training?”
“B-but Aidan...”
“Aidan? He’s different from you. You know that, don’t you?”
Aidan was naive, to the point of foolishness, and upright.
He rarely doubted others, always acting with good will.
And that conviction translated directly into action without hesitation.
A righteous man, out of place in this age.
What didn’t suit the rational, calculating mages became the very wings that let Aidan fly here.
Not by logic, but by innate nature and instinct—this was his result.
Like a line pulled from a story that hard work always bears fruit.
“All right. If you understand, stop arguing and move. We don’t have time to waste here.”
Flora had no desire to linger.
Even now, while they loitered, the threat above was descending.
* * *
The deep layer of Dreamland.
In that warped abyss of time and concept, a humming tune drifted softly.
Nirvara hummed cheerfully before his golden, glowing eyes turned slyly in one direction.
“A familiar face. It feels like it’s been so long. Have you been well?”
He smiled kindly at the man before him—Zero Order.
“So, what brings you here? If you’ve come to join in my great cause, I’ll gladly welcome you.”
“Join you?”
Zero Order gave a thin, mocking laugh.
“I came to declare war.”