High School of Demon Hunting

Chapter 1521: Chapter 265: Beyond the Dreamscape

”Hoo!”

A turbulent, scorching breath swept through, stirring the tall oak forest into a loud rustle. The slender mushrooms under the trees were uprooted, flung around like mutated dandelions careening chaotically through the woods.

From the spot where Zheng Qing and the two female demons stood, a cone-shaped expanse of barren land abruptly emerged within the Bewitched Forest. This barren area was so vast it almost split the enormous forest in half. Standing at its center, one could almost see the pale green mountain range outside the woods.

Fine ashes drifted slowly from mid-air, distorting the sunlight as they descended. The scorched black ground held no remnants of grass, mushrooms, or insects—all forms of life had evaporated under the savage gusts.

Zhuzhu’s small mouth hung slightly open, her wide, round eyes frozen in terror at the shocking sight.

Nikita’s face was pale, waves of lingering fear surging like an unrelenting tide, crashing into her heart one after another. Just a little closer—just a fraction closer—and she would’ve been part of the ashes scattered across the scorched earth.

The shot from Zheng Qing had whizzed past her ear, so close that there was a fleeting moment she thought death had claimed her. Yet, she was lucky—miraculously still alive—with only a few strands of hair singed and carrying a burnt stench.

Zheng Qing held the Remington shotgun in his hands, its destructive power unsurprising to him, though his eyes flickered with a trace of delight.

His delight stemmed from the fact that, contrary to his initial fears, he had not collapsed in exhaustion after firing the shot.

He saw it all clearly.

During this shot, faint golden runes appeared on the pale blue gun barrel. Bound together by the windmill-like emblem of the King in Yellow, the runes formed a massive net, firmly containing the power unleashed by the Fu bullet within the gun.

Not only did he remain unharmed, but the charm gun had also survived the shot without falling apart.

Zheng Qing felt as though he could still fire several more times.

In the depths of his Conscious Sea, the pale blue runic tube became increasingly distinct, piercing deep into the faint cyan vortex and continuously extracting its energy. That energy was funneled into the charm gun’s magazine, charging a new Blood Rune Bullet.

The warlock experienced a moment of clarity.

As long as he had new Blood Rune Bullets and maintained the pale blue tube, the cyan vortex within his Conscious Sea wouldn’t grow larger in the short term.

This meant he had managed to escape the immediate threat of explosion, gaining a small margin for maneuvering.

Relieved by this outcome, Zheng Qing nodded to himself in satisfaction. Although he wasn’t averse to perishing alongside Nikita, surviving long enough to return to the First University was still preferable to troubling the enigmatic Mr. Zhou to drag him back from the Land of Void.

”Lead the way,” he said.

The warlock stowed away his charm gun, his voice carrying a faint weakness. While the shot hadn’t gravely depleted his vitality, the continuous drain of magical power weighed heavily upon him.

He felt like a chronically ill man—weak, unfit, perhaps nursing a heart condition—unable to endure even slightly strenuous activity.

Fortunately, he didn’t need to be as robust as Zhang Ji Xin.

All he needed was to hold the gun steady, occasionally letting its magical targeting linger on the two female demons, ensuring their obedient compliance.

Upon hearing Zheng Qing’s order.

Sensing the faint threat of the gun’s muzzle.

Nikita composed herself instantly, rising to her feet and gathering her scattered followers. That shot from Zheng Qing hadn’t just terrified the two women; it had left the natives of Dreamland equally shaken.

The Shatak bird flock collapsed in heaps, scattered like dumplings, their wings paralyzed as if they had forgotten how to fly. The Ancient Leather Giants and the Ghouls fared slightly better, but even their bravado was limited to a blend of hollow roars and aimless flailing, desperately searching for courage.

The Enchanting Mice, led by Zu Ge, suffered the most tragic fate.

Many small brown creatures inadvertently fell victim to the chaos unleashed by the Ghouls and Leather Giants’ erratic movements. Though spared from disintegrating into ashes by the charm gun, they were crushed into pulp by their allies’ frenzied limbs.

”Do you remember the last area where that young girl disappeared?” Nikita asked, holding the reins of her massive purple spider as she approached Zheng Qing, turning to the little female demon with a deliberately gentle expression.

Zhuzhu continued to stare at the scorched earth, dazed.

It wasn’t until Nikita’s gaze began to turn icy that she startled and snapped back to attention.

”Y-yes, I remember,” the little demon stammered, pointing in a direction opposite to Zheng Qing’s shot—the path she’d originally emerged from. ”Around five kilometers away, at the edge of the woods, there’s a stony beach filled with caves... Those demons crawled out from the caves.”

Nikita then looked at Zheng Qing, speaking with utmost respect: ”Please, sit on my mount. We’ll surely retrieve her.”

Zheng Qing stepped onto the slanted, slender front legs of the purple spider, climbing onto its back. He chose a flat, soft patch to settle into.

It was soft—like lying on a plush wool blanket.

Nikita obediently guided the spider while commanding her gradually recovering followers to march in the direction pointed out by the little demon.

Zheng Qing was wholly absorbed in thoughts of finding Zhu Si and hadn’t noticed the scene unfolding behind their party. At the edge of the scorched and ash-filled expanse, an old oak tree—already lifeless and withered—finally succumbed to the ravages of the scorching wind.

Its massive trunk cracked open, revealing a hollow, pitch-black core.

The initial cracking sound was sporadic but grew increasingly frequent and louder. The moment the heavy footsteps of the Ancient Leather Giants faded into the forest’s edge, the already dead and charred old oak tree shattered entirely, crumbling into fine powder in a crisp crescendo of cracking sounds.

A gentle breeze swept through, merging the tree’s remains with the surrounding ashes. Within seconds, both vanished utterly.

From the fissure where the old oak once stood, a slender black rift appeared out of thin air, twisting briefly like ink dripping into water, before quickly disappearing without a trace.

...

...

Zheng Qing remained unaware that behind him, an old oak tree deeply tied to his fate had suffered a cruel death.

Nor was he aware that at the precise moment his Fu bullet obliterated part of the Bewitched Forest, deep within the First University’s Magic History Museum, from within a temporary exhibition hall, an ominous crack sounded from the enchanted Magic Mirror kept there.

As the old oak tree crumbled into dust.

The Magic Mirror’s surface shattered completely.

Its crystal-clear shards resembled pristine grains of salt, scattered all over the ground. Torrents of magical energy combined with Dreamland’s resonance erupted violently from the mirror, battering the museum’s protective array.

Previously dormant artifacts in the museum began stirring once more under this chaotic surge of energy.

In the museum’s clock tower, the rust-covered Bronze Bell began to swing on its own, tolling deep and foreboding ”ALANG! ALANG! ALANG!” echoes that reverberated throughout the university.