Greatest Legacy of the Magus Universe

Chapter 1083: Long-Forgotten God

To Valerian, it felt as if he saw a lifetime’s worth of memories in a span of a single moment.

Of course, these memories did not belong to him, or even his future self. They were the distant echoes of the mysterious Mind Dragons that existed in this universe.

Their origins remained a mystery, just like their existence.

Some said these ancient, elusive beings were born from the thought of the first being that came into existence. While others claimed they were beings of pure consciousness, forged not in nests and mountains, but in the dreaming void between realms.

Unlike other dragons, who embodied elemental forces, Mind Dragons wielded something far more elusive...

The power of thought!

They could read minds, alter memories, and weave illusions so seamlessly that none would know. They could effortlessly and gracefully traverse the spirit world despite being creatures of the material world. They moved between dreams and waking reality, influencing the hearts and wills of others with but a whisper.

In essence, they were masters of Enchantment and Illusion. They were the sovereigns of the unseen.

Mind Dragons were creatures cloaked in secrecy, their very existence concealed from the world. They could not be seen, heard, or sensed... unless they willed it.

Their presence was like a half-remembered dream, a fleeting thought in the corner of one’s mind, gone before one could grasp it. To most, they were myths at best, dreams at worst.

And yet, among those who did know of their existence... they were feared above all.

Not because of brute strength or elemental fury—like most dragons—but because a Mind Dragon could unravel worlds without ever raising a claw. They could slip into thoughts, twist one’s desires, and erase their name from their own memory.

They were not just feared...

They were dreaded.

Although the white butterfly had not granted Valerian power, she had given him something far greater...

Hope.

And by the time he opened his eyes, she was long gone. If not for the fact that new memories now existed inside his mind, he would have thought it was all but a...

”...Dream,” he whispered.

The young dragon looked around in confusion. Reliving all those memories and then returning to where he was caused great dissonance. He was surprised that his tiny little head hadn’t burst open yet.

”Lady Butterfly?” Valeiran called out as he got on all fours, looking around with excitement.

”Are you there?”

But he received no response. All he heard was the sound of the blizzard raging outside and...

Valerian turned his head and looked at his brother. Adam was drawing raspy breaths, his chest heaving up and down laboriously. He seemed to be deep asleep with a peaceful expression on his face.

The young dragon rushed towards him, wanting to tell him all about what the white butterfly had told and shown him. But he soon thought otherwise.

I shouldn’t wake him up now, he thought.

He needs to rest...

Besides, he had a lot to think about as well. With the threat of the four-armed monster, the Jarnsmrimir, gone, he now found himself at ease. For a few moments, he wished to forget about the chaos in Ravenfell.

I can’t leave without Brother, anyway.

He walked around in circles, deep in thought. Sometimes he would have a pondering look on his face, other times he’d get so excited that he’d start jumping around in joy.

I can actually do all that?! That is so amazing! He thought.

He finally realized why he was able to effortlessly travel from the real world to Adam’s mind. It was because it was in his blood. He was a Mind Dragon who could turn his body incorporeal and enter others’ minds.

But most of the things that he had seen other mighty Mind Dragons do, he could only do them once he grew more powerful. And for that, he needed to be patient.

”Dragons are not bound by haste. Hmph!” Valerian spoke arrogantly, repeating the butterfly’s words. ”I am a mighty dragon!”

His expression soon turned a little smug, and he couldn’t help but wonder, So what if I can’t execute much of those magical abilities now? I can very well put all that knowledge to good use.

I just need to think how to... huh?

Suddenly, something caught his attention. Unbeknownst to him, he had arrived near the inner walls of the temple. And there, he saw something very fascinating.

She never did tell me about the Laughing God... maybe I can glean something from these murals... Hmm...

The cracked walls of the temple bore the faded remains of murals, their natural colorings dulled by ages of frost and neglect. Yet, somehow, they carried a strange, defiant vitality.

Valerian sat down at the base of the first mural and squinted his eyes, trying to study them.

An infant with pale blue skin and white hair emerged from a churning void of shadows and winter, his tiny silhouette framed by towering frost giants whose features blurred into mist. The infant’s fox-like eyes seemed almost alive, seemingly looking back at the young dragon with a glint of knowing playfulness.

Valerian yelped in surprise. For a moment, he thought that the infant in the murals was actually looking at him! Despite the erosion of time, the murals still appeared strangely lifelike.

The moment Valerian glanced at the infant with fox-like eyes, he knew...

”Laughing God,” he murmured.

The young dragon observed the mural on the wall for several moments, then walked over to the next one. The mural on this wall was slightly damaged.

This mural showed the Laughing God, who was no longer an infant, but an adult, standing beside a...

Valerian suddenly frowned. ”Who’s that?”

For some reason, he found it very difficult to see through the appearance of the other person. Perhaps it was because the paintings had faded, or perhaps it was something else entirely.

All Valerian knew was that this other person was an old man.

The Laughing God stood beside this old man beneath the roots of a giant ash tree, clasping hands in a pact, sealed by blood and magic. Time had eroded the old man’s face, and it was impossible to make out his facial features.

But the Laughing God’s face was very much visible. His fox-like eyes glinted with the same playful light, and his faint smirk remained untouched by the ravages of time.

”Is the Laughing God mocking the old man?” Valerian murmured. ”How strange...”

He walked over to the next mural, this one etched on a long stretch of wall.

The mural depicted the forging of divine treasures. One appeared to be golden hair flowing like radiant sunshine through the Laughing God’s hands. Another displayed a powerful hammer being shaped upon an anvil.

”Is the Laughing God an artificer?” Valerian tilted his head in curiosity.

Further along the mural, he saw the Laughing God’s many disguises: a hawk mid-flight, an old beggar with a cane, a lithe youth brandishing daggers, and a great fish leaping through black waters. Their shapes and outlines blurred into one another, almost as if they would change again if Valerian looked away.

The final mural was fractured beyond recognition, but what remained showed the Laughing God standing on a bridge between realms. Below him churned fire and ice, above him stretched the starlit void.

His face was half illuminated, half lost in the shadows...

Valerian heaved a long sigh. He was finally able to learn at least something about the Laughing God. He planned to show these murals to Adam when he woke up.

Just as the young dragon was about to turn away, something in the corner of the wall caught his eye. It was a faint string of words, etched so subtly into the stone that he had nearly overlooked them.

He walked over to that section of the wall, not hoping much. After all, the words could very well be in a foreign language he was unaware of. Parts of it might have been missing too because of the long years.

But coincidentally, the language it was written in turned out to be one of the few languages that Adam had drilled into the young dragon’s head. Moreover, it was still readable.

”It’s in the Mauri Language!” Valerian’s eyes lit up.

The young dragon sat down on the ground once again, then read the string of words, his voice echoing in the temple of the long-forgotten god:

”Breaker of Oaths;

Weaver of Lies;

Great God of Many Faces.”