Sword of Dawnbreaker

Chapter 783 - 782: The Trap in the Depths of Memory

Yuri and Magnan stood on the deserted street of the town, with identical expressions of confusion on their faces. Their minds had clearly been disturbed, their senses shielded, all consciousness trapped deep within a heavy ”veil,” mirroring the same state Daniel had recently been in.

Gawain approached the two archbishops of the Eternal Sleepers, but before using his special abilities to help them regain clarity, he glanced at Daniel.

”Within the Eternal Sleepers, how do priests above the rank of bishop usually perceive the ’Wanderers from Outer Realm’?”

Daniel thought for a moment and respectfully answered, ”Your existence alone causes most of the Eternal Sleepers to feel both horror and dread. However, priests above the bishop rank must consider more than common followers do. While they fear you, they also analyze your behavior and speculate on your possible stance...”

”Oh? Speculate on my stance?” Gawain became slightly intrigued. ”What kind of stance?”

”Bishops and archbishops believe that each Wanderer from Outer Realm has a mission beyond mortal understanding, and your actions are centered around this mission. They think it’s best to avoid conflict with you as it yields no benefit. Some bishops believe Wanderers from Outer Realm aren’t inherently good or evil and have no fixed stance; you and your kind are merely passing through this world, which is just a temporary stop in your eyes. And a very small number of bishops think limited and cautious interactions with Wanderers from Outer Realm may not be a bad thing. Although the initial contact between the Eternal Sleepers and you wasn’t very friendly, your activities in Anzu have shown that you don’t mind cooperating and connecting with other mortals...”

Gawain touched his chin, feeling somewhat like the Eternal Sleepers regarded him as some large neutral beast...

This group of shut-in techies really do live through self-suggestions, huh?

Daniel discreetly observed Gawain’s expression, cautiously asking, ”My Lord, you’re asking this because...”

”Nothing, just a bit curious,” Gawain said casually, unable to suppress a slight smile when looking at Yuri and Magnan. ”Curious what would happen if I suddenly lifted my concealment and appeared directly in front of these two.”

Daniel’s face immediately showed surprise and confusion, then he seriously contemplated the feasibility of such an action.

Seeing this, Gawain chuckled: ”Don’t take it seriously; I don’t plan to do that.”

While talking, he approached the two archbishops who were still in a state of mental interference and gently placed his hand on them.

”Next, I’ll just return behind the scenes.”

...

Yuri and Magnan had been lost for a long while in the boundless chaos mist, as long as a dream from which one cannot awaken.

As experts in the Domain of Mind and Dreams, they didn’t panic in this situation and subtly grasped the origin of the predicament. Realizing that the problem lay not outside but within their minds, the two archbishops ceased their futile wandering and exploration, beginning instead to solve the issue from within.

”We might have to recalibrate our minds,” Magnan’s booming voice echoed through the fog, while Yuri couldn’t see Magnan’s specific silhouette and features, only vaguely perceiving a familiar gray-black outline drifting in the mist. This meant they were ”close,” yet interference in their senses rendered even proximity unclear. ”This damn fog must be some kind of mental imagery interference, causing misalignment between our consciousness and sensory layers.”

”I fear it’s more than mere mental imagery interference,” Archbishop Yuri responded, ”I can’t contact the monitoring team in the rear—perhaps in addition to sensory misalignment and interference, our entire minds have been transferred into some deeper level of imprisonment... This town is alive, capable even of crafting such exquisite and sinister traps to deal with us.”

”This (Aldernon expletive) place!” Archbishop Magnan cursed. ”Anyway, let’s recalibrate our minds first; whatever has us trapped, at least we should see clearly what’s holding us...”

Listening to the familiar booming voice incessantly droning on, Archbishop Yuri lightly replied, ”While you’re yelling those crude words, I am already doing it.”

He gathered his scattered consciousness, concentrating thoughts slightly distorted by the surroundings, gradually redefining his warped self-awareness in this chaotic, imbalanced spiritual ocean.

Boundless mist condensed around him, with outlines of familiar yet strange things emerging from it. Yuri felt his mind sinking deeper into the depths of memory and consciousness. Gradually, the troubling mist dispersed, and his vision again revealed concentrated, ”real” scenes.

He found himself within an ancient and somber castle, standing in the castle’s library.

Stone walls with hundreds of years of history had Demon Crystals embedded within, emitting dim yellow light. Classical ”Trickel” pillars extended into view, supporting the tall stone dome, covered with complex, mysterious mural emblems, layered in black ash, seemingly merged with the darkness outside the castle.

Between the pillars and walls, between the gloomy dome and the rough stone floor, were rows of heavy oak bookshelves, above which bronze lamp posts emitted bright yellow light.

Yuri, draped in a white robe, quietly meandered within this ancient, brooding castle, strolling among bookshelves seemingly capable of engulfing a person.

”Recalibrating the mind...is truly unpleasant.”

The archbishop of the Eternal Sleepers murmured softly, walking deeper along shelves that had eroded and faded in memory but clearly emerged at this moment.

This came from memories deeply buried, yet unforgettable to him.

Walking past a black bookshelf, between its two pillars was strangely embedded a wooden door. As Yuri walked past the door, it automatically swung open, revealing another scene as light burst forth—

A boy in a luxurious equestrian coat ran through the bright castle, chased by a worried servant and maid, while an aged butler, gasping for breath, stood not far away, helpless.

Without shifting his gaze, Yuri walked past, leaving that door behind.

The next bookshelf, the next door...

A youth on horseback briskly passed along the estate’s path, startling nameless birds from the roadside. Servants in red and blue tunics closely followed nearby.

The slightly older boy sat in the library, smiling as he read those expensive books and tomes, while the old butler stood quietly by, his face a picture of serene calm.

People came and went in the castle, while the middle-aged aristocratic couple with now blurred faces stood in the courtyard, their brows furrowed in worry.

Someone was proclaiming the emperor’s decree, others were discussing the dark clouds over Aldernon, the intrigues and struggles within the Obsidian Palace, whispering the name of Prince Rosetta Augustus, speaking of the madness and obsession of the Augustus Clan, discussing the collapsed old imperial capital, and the curse spreading among the royal family after the fall.

Many strangers appeared in the castle, knights whose faces were hidden behind iron masks appeared, the servants lost their radiant appearances of the past, and the old butler wore a troubled look, while whispers of unknown origin echoed among the bookshelves, spreading to Yuri’s ears, repeatedly mentioning betrayal by dissidents, the old emperor’s descent into madness, and a great fire in the Obsidian Palace, words that sent chills down one’s spine.

The sumptuous furnishings in the castle corridor were emptied, the iron boots of the royal infantry shattered the serenity of the manor’s paths, the boy became a young man, no longer riding horses, no longer laughing recklessly, instead sitting quietly in the ancient library, buried in those yellowed tomes and secret knowledge.

The servants were dispersed, the male master of the castle went to Aldernon and did not return, the female master walked madly through the courtyard, constantly muttering curses under her breath, while the dry leaves swirled and flew into the now empty hall. The young man’s cold gaze looked through the door crevices at the sparse attendants outside, as if the world’s changes were now irrelevant to him.

The court struggles in Aldernon, the shadow of madness looming over the Augustus Clan, the aristocrats’ sense of impending doom... none of it mattered to him.

Day after day, the young man sat in the library, deep within this only preserved family legacy. The scrolls in his hand grew darker and more enigmatic, describing many terrifying dark secrets, many mysterious knowledges deemed taboo.

He studied the history of the Empire, delving into the records of the collapse of the old imperial capital, with a hint of mockery and superiority in his gaze. Boldly, he researched those taboo secrets concerning the Augustus Clan’s curse, seemingly unafraid that these studies would add more burdensome guilt to his family.

During his research into these forbidden secrets, he also found numerous long-sealed books and scrolls from the family’s collection.

Inside, there were records of dreams, secret psychic rituals, and knowledge of dark Divine Arts.

Secret knowledge infused into his mind, connecting the intellect of strangers with his own through those symbols and words hidden at the corners of scrolls. He shut himself in the library, transforming into the ”prisoner of the library” scorned by the outside world, a ”fallen oathbreaker aristocrat,” yet his mind found relief, transcending the constraints of the castle and manor through repeated attempts of forbidden rituals.

An Eternal Sleeper was born deep within the castle of a noble of a declined clan.

Archbishop Yuri paced through the library, gradually reaching the innermost part of this palace of memories.

Before the final door, he saw his younger self standing quietly among heaps of disordered books, his youthful and pale face displaying a calm yet mad smile. Complicated dream magic symbols were painted on his robe and the surrounding floors and walls, covering every surface, shimmering in the darkness.

Heavy footsteps echoed from the vision, as fully armed royal Knights burst through the young man’s domain, their leading officer loudly reading the decree of Emperor Rosetta Augustus, here to arrest the oathbreaker aristocrat accused of secretly researching royal secrets, offending the empire’s majesty, and suspected of black witchcraft.

Having become an Eternal Sleeper, the young man smiled and triggered a massive Spell arranged throughout the library. Within breaths, every invading Knight of the castle became a devoted follower of the Eternal Sleeper’s evil-cult.

”There are no Eternal Sleepers here, for everyone is an Eternal Sleeper...”

Yuri, the archbishop, stopped before the last row of bookshelves, quietly watching the memory scene displayed within the door between the shelves.

It depicted the final step of his transformation into an Eternal Sleeper.

But that was over a decade ago.

Exploring memories aids in reconstructing the subconscious self-awareness. The archbishop felt his mind growing stable again, having completed the redrawing of his self-awareness. Theoretically, the disorienting ”interference” that misaligned his consciousness and perception would be entirely eradicated at the end of this process.

He relaxed slightly, facing the deepest memories within him with calm demeanor, his gaze scanning the rows of heavy, old, elaborately bound books nearby.

On the covers of each book, there was a depiction of vast lands, and a hand covering the earth from the sky.

Yuri’s gaze froze instantly, his heart tightened, and from the corner of his eye, he saw the young man symbolizing his decade’s past self, exhibiting an odd smile through the door.

The figure smiled slowly, raised his hand, palm horizontal, facing downward, as if covering invisible earth.

”To the Supreme Narrator, to our omniscient and omnipotent Creator...”

Yuri’s eyes widened, pale golden symbols floated around him, and while struggling to escape these deep memories, he shouted loudly:

”Archbishop Magnan!

”Do not calibrate your mind! Do not delve into your deepest memories!

”This is a tra—”

He seemed to vaguely hear Archbishop Magnan’s roar, realizing that the hot-tempered archbishop might also be facing a similar crisis as his own, but before he could take more action, his consciousness was abruptly shaken violently, as the heavy shadow enshrouding his mind was swiftly swept away by some coarse force.

Amidst the flickering chaotic light and shadow, the scenes of the castle and library dispersed cleanly. He found himself standing on the street of Illusion Town, where lampposts lit up, facing Archbishop Daniel, who was looking at him in astonishment.

”What were you shouting about?”

Archbishop Daniel asked with a furrowed brow.