The shepherd boy Tetra sat alone in the wide meadow, gazing at the drifting clouds.
It was a peaceful world.
The sheep grazed leisurely in the pasture, and all he needed to do was sit quietly and watch them.
But young Tetra did not simply feel content, nor did he find this meaningless time boring.
“What kind of ridiculous dream is this?”
The words that slipped from the lips of the young country boy carried a cold, adult tone.
The shepherd boy Tetra.
No—Ludger Cherish, who was dreaming the boy’s dream, could not make sense of the situation.
‘The moment I lost consciousness, I was reborn as a completely new being.’
It felt as though, just like his past life, he had died and begun another existence.
But Ludger knew better.
This was not real life—it was a dream in which he was reliving someone else’s life exactly.
In other words, Ludger Cherish was dreaming the dream of the shepherd boy Tetra.
‘Another’s dream. And the era is much further in the past than the time I live in. Tetra has long since died.’
Ludger immediately sensed that this was a prison created by Nirva.
As a servant of the God of Dreams, Nirva had pried into the cracks of his mind and forced upon him another person’s dream.
‘Normally, psychic-type assaults would never have worked on me.’
Mental attacks, curses—none of it could affect Ludger.
And yet here he was, dreaming this dream. That meant Nirva’s authority was not some mere curse.
‘Of course. This is simply a dream. You can’t call it a curse just because it exists.’
Nirva had told him before sleep to dream of a butterfly.
And indeed, this was his second dream.
The first had been the butterfly, which flew for a while before dying.
The next time he opened his eyes, he had become this shepherd boy.
‘A dream that feels real.’
Ludger opened and closed his hand.
The sensation on his palm was vivid. The breeze flowing through the drifting clouds, the faint smell of sheep carried from afar.
If all his senses could feel it so clearly, could this even be called a dream?
One could dismiss it as an interesting experience, but Ludger could not take it so lightly.
Rather, the situation filled him with a creeping sense of dread.
‘When I was the butterfly, for an instant I forgot that I was Ludger Cherish.’
There is the story of the butterfly dream.
Zhuang Zhou dreamed he was a butterfly, and upon waking, could not tell whether he was Zhuang Zhou dreaming of being a butterfly, or a butterfly dreaming of being Zhuang Zhou.
If he had simply woken from the dream, it could have been brushed off as a butterfly dream.
But he thought otherwise—he felt, in that moment, that he was truly a butterfly dreaming the life of Zhuang Zhou.
It was not Zhuang Zhou’s perspective of a butterfly, but the actual life of a butterfly being lived.
Though it was only a dream, it was vivid, and every part of it was as if real.
‘Looked at another way, one could say it is a way to transcend oneself and learn the perspectives of other beings, to grasp the principles of all things.’
But if that is so—
What happens to the self?
When he lived as the butterfly, Ludger had not worried about such questions.
But when that ended, when he opened his eyes and the new dream began—
He realized it.
The prison of dreams Nirva had given him was only beginning now.
“Still.”
Ludger flicked his fingers.
Sparks of mana leapt from his fingertips.
A recognition of magic—something the boy Tetra would never have perceived.
And if he could perceive it, it meant he was still Ludger Cherish.
“I cannot give up.”
He would escape this place.
With that resolve, Ludger rose to his feet.
* * *
Clara Cowen slowly opened her mouth.
“This tale has been passed down to the Dream Masters from long ago. Always with a stern warning never to reveal it to anyone else.”
Now Clara was about to speak that secret aloud.
Her gaze, mingled with affection and concern, rested on Franz.
“You fell into the depths of Dreamland. But you must know—at that time, you had talent, yes, but not enough to descend into the depths. You were still a child.”
“That is...”
“There is no need to hide it. That day, you fell because you were summoned.”
The Dreamwalkers’ eyes turned to Franz in confusion.
“Summoned?”
“What does that mean?”
Franz’s lips trembled.
“You... knew?”
“Even though you were young, your talent was remarkable. Because of that, you received its summons. You unconsciously grasped it, and so fell into the depths.”
“Master. What is this ‘it’ you speak of?”
By now, it was clear Clara was not speaking of ordinary matters.
Everyone held their breath, and Zantman carefully asked.
“It is a fragment.”
“A fragment?”
“Yes. Something once whole that broke apart, scattering pieces across the world. One of those fragments came into the hands of our Dream School.”
“And what on earth...”
“Long ago, a former Dream Master took part in a certain research. It was something that would decide the future of this world.”
Clara steadied her breath.
What she was about to say should never fall carelessly into anyone’s ears.
She knew that, yet she had to say it.
If not now, there might never be another chance to pass on the truth.
“The fragment we received was a shard of a very dangerous relic. In the distant past, even before the Empire existed, people tried to use this relic for something. What exactly, I do not know. But it was said to be of great importance, tied to the world itself.”
The sheer scale of the story left everyone shaken.
Yet none dared dismiss it as nonsense.
They knew their Master was not one to speak idly.
“Then, meddlers appeared. They sought to eliminate everyone involved. The relic was shattered, its fragments scattered throughout the world. Our former Master managed to secure one. And he wished to hide it somewhere untouched by human hands, where no one could ever find it.”
But the Dream Master could not find such a place.
He was too old, too drained of strength. It was too late for him to accomplish it.
So he chose his successor, revealing the truth only to that one, entrusting the task.
The next Master searched as well but found no suitable place.
At last, the thought came: perhaps it would be safest hidden within the Dream School itself.
And so, the fragment of the relic remained in the Dream School, passed down generation after generation.
“Who was it they feared would search for it, that they hid it so deeply?”
“The Theocracy of Bretus.”
At Clara’s words, all eyes widened.
The Theocracy of Bretus? Why would the stronghold of the Lumenis Church appear here?
It was hard to comprehend.
But at the same time, it made sense why she had kept such truth hidden.
To provoke the Lumenis Church carelessly— even the Dream School could not survive that.
Considering the fate of those branded heretics, it was only natural.
“But the Theocracy of Bretus no longer wields such influence on the international stage. There’s no need to worry so...”
“That may be true now. But in those days, it was not so. They ruled the continent, and beyond that, they possessed hidden power they never revealed. That hidden power was what I feared.”
The Theocracy of Bretus had suddenly gone silent around twenty years ago.
Until they shut their gates, their influence reached into every corner of the continent.
“But that was not the most important matter. Nathanael, as the chosen successor, heard the truth from the former Master. And the choice he made then was this: to hide the fragment of the relic in Dreamland itself.”
“Dreamland!”
The Dreamwalkers cried out in shock.
But some of the Dreamwalkers nodded as if they understood.
“Yeah. Dreamland is a place that no one but a Dreamwalker can recklessly enter.”
“If you wanted to hide something, you could say it was the perfect place.”
“But the surface layer is a place that anyone who falls asleep can reach. That’s why it must have been hidden deeper.”
The Dreamwalkers, who had started muttering among themselves, fell silent all at once and looked toward Clara.
Clara nodded, acknowledging that their words were true.
A sigh of “Haa...” slipped out here and there.
“We moved as far as the middle layer while carrying the relic. But even if you leave an object in the middle layer, you can’t move something from reality into Dreamland. A dream is a dream, reality is reality. The difference was far too absolute.”
If only they had given up there, they would have ★ 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ★ never known.
But Nathanael did not give up.
“Nathanael said that there was a place where real objects could be placed in the dream world. The moment I heard those words, I realized what he meant.”
Every Dreamwalker’s expression hardened.
For there was only one place where the boundary between dream and reality collapsed completely.
“He intended to descend into the depths and hide it there.”
Clara admitted that this was true.
“I opposed it. The chance of never returning after descending into the depths was far too high. No matter that it was the two of us, going into the depths was too dangerous.”
Clara wanted Nathanael to keep the relic’s fragment as the other Masters had—stored in the ordinary way.
Because that was how it had always been done.
There was no need to take unnecessary risks.
But Nathanael, perhaps out of responsibility, was unwilling to accept that.
“I tried to persuade him while he was still conflicted. I begged him, asking if he would really leave behind our precious son.”
At the words “precious son,” Franz clenched his fists.
“So I said we would discuss the matter again someday, and I pushed it from my mind. Unfortunately, that was only me. Nathanael, overflowing with duty and responsibility, did not do the same.”
Then one day, an incident occurred.
Nathanael carried the relic into the middle layer of Dreamland, and the relic’s fragment reacted to something deep within Dreamland.
“We didn’t know. Just as we looked into the abyss to hide something, the abyss also looked back at us.”
At the time, neither Nathanael nor Clara realized it.
It was too subtle and quiet; even if they had sharpened every sense, they could not have detected it.
The power dwelling inside the fragment of the relic they had kept.
The one who reacted to it was Franz, who had inherited the greatest Dreamwalker talent of all time.
Franz’s eyes widened.
“No way, back then....”
Clara nodded with a regretful face.
“It was not your fault that you became what you are. The responsibility was ours, for failing to recognize that power. It was Nathanael’s role to leave the relic’s fragment in the depths.”
It was something bound to happen eventually.
Franz had merely been caught in the aftermath, nothing more than a victim.
Franz’s voice trembled at the truth he had never heard until now.
“...Why are you only telling me this now?”
“Because if not now, there will be no chance.”
Clara said this, then shook her head.
“No. That’s just an excuse. In truth, there may have always been chances. It’s just that I was too weak. Back then, I was buried in grief and could not think rationally. I could not even conceive of telling the truth.”
But that was something she should never have allowed.
At Clara’s last words, the Dreamwalkers lowered their heads heavily.
It wasn’t only Franz who had been grieving and broken by that event.
Clara had lost her beloved husband.
It had happened so suddenly that Clara had not even been able to prepare her heart to let Nathanael go.
The shock was beyond words.
Even for Clara, she had been far younger then, and thus all the more emotional.
She had been so lost in her own grief that she could not care for Franz.
Instead, she tried to restrain him, and that became the reason Franz left.
A harmonious family collapsed in an instant.
She lost her husband, and then even her son.
Clara poured herself into raising the Dream School.
So that it would not collapse and be swept away by the tide after Nathanael’s sudden death.
“The truth is, the reason I fought to keep the Dream School alive was for myself. I wanted to salvage something—anything. I wanted to build a place I could lean on to support me as I faltered.”
Clara shed tears.
“All of this happened because I was lacking, because I was selfish. So it is all my fault. Even what you became....”
“Enough!”
Franz shouted out.
“Stop, please.”
“Franz....”
“What changes, just because I know the truth? Nothing. The past is already gone, and right now we are trapped inside this damned prison made by that demon. We only have one task. To kill that demon. So please, stop telling stories of the past. I cannot bear to hear them any longer.”
With those words, Franz turned his back and walked away.
Watching him go, Zantman thought Franz looked just like a child trying desperately to ignore a truth too heavy for him to bear.
* * *
There were many imprisoned.
Among them were those who had been swept into the rift from the middle layer, trembling in fear.
“W-where is this place?”
“Let’s move, for now.”
They did not know where an exit might be, but remaining in this distorted space was more frightening.
They took deep breaths, then opened the nearest door.
Beyond the door lay pitch-black darkness.
“What the... there’s nothing there?”
The moment someone muttered those words, golden light exploded from within the darkness.
People froze at the sudden sight, and the first one who had opened the door was dragged inside.
Crunch! Crackle!
“Gyaaaaah!”
Horrific sounds mingled with the scream that rang out.
And a moment later, an old man emerged from the darkness.
Missing one arm, weariness on his face, the old man muttered to himself as he looked at the people.
“It is truly a sinful feeling.”
The terrified people tried to flee, but Nirva did not allow it.
When he stretched out his hand, a storm of sand whipped up and swallowed them whole.
Screams rang out from within the sandstorm.
But the screams did not last long. Soon the people withered and collapsed like puppets with their strings cut.
Having absorbed all their life and energy, Nirva could not hide the guilt even as his strength swelled.
“To think that I must dare to lay hands on offerings meant for the Goddess.”
It meant that he had already been broken to such a degree.
Nirva’s eyes gleamed with murderous intent.
“You erased the line I swore never to cross. That should never have been.”
The monster of the labyrinth stepped forward in search of its next prey.