NOVPUBThe Great Love Poet let warden Selena leave on her own, not interfering with her.
It seemed her mood had calmed considerably. Unaffected by the [Falling Gentle Hometown], her figure disappeared out of sight.
Following this, the Great Love Poet turned her attention to the three priests.
She walked to their side, entered into each of their dreams one by one, and soon had them all awake swiftly.
All three were in a state of shock, soon followed by an embarrassed look, and bowed to the Great Love Poet to apologize.
"To learn comes with order, yes, and the skill has its own focus. All you need to remember is this valuable experience. Understand your weaknesses, and there’s no need to blame yourself," she said, raising her hand dismissively.
"Thank you, Madam."
The priest of Hegemony again performed a respectful bow toward the Great Love Poet.
The Love Poet then turned her gaze to Hyperion who remained deeply lost in the dream and hadn’t yet woken up. 𝔫𝖔𝔳𝖕𝖚𝔟.𝔠𝔬𝖒
Actually, Lanci could have woken Hyperion up quickly.
But with no danger to her life, they would allow Hyperion to rest a little longer.
After her father had been missing for so long, she truly deserved some respite.
"Even though reality may be harsh for you, I’ll try to make it a bit better for you," the Great Love Poet muttered to herself, standing by Hyperion’s side and shutting her eyes.
...
The evening sun was setting. In the Hutton Kingdom, sunlight streamed through the thin clouds and transparent glass of a slow-moving sightseeing train.
This Magic Power Rail Train traversed the heartland of the Hutton Kingdom, serving as a link between the Royal Capital and the borderlands, between human culture and nature.
The car’s wooden paneling, every detail of its carving, breathed a light and vibrant style very different from that of the Northern Continent.
The scenery outside the windows rolled out like a painting: verdant fields, ancient villages scattered throughout, occasional vineyards, and age-old castles.
The passengers within either quietly appreciated the view beyond the window or exchanged whispers, relishing a leisurely journey. The afternoon air was sprinkled with the delicate aroma of coffee and wine; the faint clattering of wheels on the track set a peaceful and elegant atmosphere.
On one of the seats by the window, a regular couple sat across a wooden table from one another, accompanied by a young girl on the wife’s side.
The three appeared as if they were just an ordinary family out for a weekend trip.
The girl seemed somewhat sleepy, drifting between sleep and consciousness, snuggling up against her mother.
"Mom."
Hyperion clung to Isatia’s arm, merely calling out her name and saying nothing more, her hand not letting go.
"What’s the matter?"
Isatia asked quietly.
Hyperion shook her head without speaking.
She didn’t let go of her grip.
The comforting presence of her mother stirred Hyperion’s memories of a young lady with grey hair in her recent dream who was equally reassuring.
The lady would protect her from assassins and cover her with a blanket during cold nights.
But that strange and terrifying dream, her father had vanished.
How could her father, whom she had believed from childhood to be so powerful that he could never be defeated, just disappear into thin air?
Dreams are indeed absurd.
"Father, can you lose?"
Hyperion lifted her eyes, gazing at the figure seated opposite her by the window.
"No."
Duke Migaya kept his eyes on the book in his hands, his reply certain.
Observing the comforting figure of Migaya with dark hair sitting across her, Hyperion was reminded of another person from the dream.
Even though their disposition was completely different, that man seemed to fill the unease in her heart, preventing her from thinking that the dream was a sheer nightmare.
"Hyperion."
Her thoughts whirled in her mind when suddenly a voice broke through her musings.
Following the direction from which the voice came, she noticed a young man with dark hair and green eyes sitting across the aisle on the train. She had not noticed this passenger earlier.
And he was looking at her.
Hyperion met his gaze.
"May I...?"
"Hyperion, it’s time to wake up."
The boy spoke softly, reminiscent of a mother awakening her child in the early morning, a hint of reluctance in his voice.
"Who are you?"
Hyperion asked in confusion.
"I’m your companion."
The boy responded.
"What does ’wake up’ mean?"
Hyperion looked bemused, sensing that her conversation with this black-haired, green-eyed boy was ostensibly stirring lost memories.
"It means you have to leave this dream-like world with me."
The boy maintained his patient demeanor.
"...?"
Hyperion was stunned,
"No, no matter what, let me gaze at it a little longer, just one more look."
Teardrops welled up in her eyes. Like a child refusing to get out of bed, an extra second of indulgence seemed precious.
"Sigh..."
Lanci wore a resigned smile, little did he expect Hyperion to be so deeply immersed in the magic of [Falling gentle hometown].
If possible, he would hope Hyperion could have pleasant dreams, rather than being frequently awakened by nightmares at night.
But he couldn’t leave Hyperion alone in this dangerous magic, which essentially was a lethal spell.
"Hyperion, sometimes what seems like a slight hesitation can lead to an infinite delay, until we finally give up."
The black-haired, green-eyed boy spoke slowly, appearing unperturbed by Hyperion’s state, even understanding her,
"But if we don’t set off now, we’ll never be able to embark. So trust me and come."
His voice was tranquil, his gaze fixed on Hyperion.
It was as if he was prepared to take her on an extraordinary journey, or perhaps it was a promise they had already made.
At that moment.
The sky outside the window was fading into a pinkish-golden hue of twilight, reminiscent of the radiant color of early morning.
Hyperion stared blankly at the boy and the dawn behind him.
The sweet world began to dissolve, heartbeats reverberated through the sky, repeating in an unbroken rhythm, guiding the endlessly lingering dream.
Listening to her biorhythm so clear and palpable, Hyperion opened her eyes.
She found herself back in Herram Prison on Sublevel Four.
In front of her stood the same black-haired, green-eyed figure, smiling at her just like in the dream.
"Welcome back."
The Great Love Poet of the black hair and green eyes greeted her as usual.
"Hmm, thank you for always being able to find me."
Hyperion nodded seriously, a trace of a smile on her face.
The Great Love Poet was briefly taken aback. In his recollection, Hyperion rarely smiled and the smile now looked subtly different from before.
"By the way, where’s the jailer?"
Hyperion looked around, glanced at her bracelet, and asked curiously.
She noticed that the three Rebirth Priests had already woken up.
It must have been a long after they arrived on Sublevel Four. The jailer had not shown up, but the information on her bracelet already displayed the passage permit granted by the jailer.
What exactly had happened while she was dreaming?
"The jailer’s a good sort, he’ll give us an exceptional rating, don’t worry."
The Great Love Poet said cheerfully,
"Next we can leisurely visit the Great Demon Clan, the Great Demon on this level is the Guardian Antanas you’re looking for."
"?"
Hyperion furrowed her brows.
She had no idea what had transpired in this level of the prison while she was dreaming blissfully?
But it also seemed like while she was indulging herself, Lanci had helped her settle everything?
She began to doubt if she was the protagonist in a novel, and Lanci was her unbeatable cheat code?
