Chapter 1545: Chapter 1545

It was difficult to describe the current situation. Jenkins's understanding of dreams was far from profound, so he had no idea why the dreamscape had shattered into such a bizarre spectacle. He could only surmise that he was now in a space coalesced from the collective human subconscious.

But wherever he was, it didn't matter. He was clearly losing this purely psychic confrontation. His opponent, a calamity born from the dream world, held a natural home-field advantage. Worse, tens of thousands of mortal souls, deluded by the creature, were offering it their prayers. Even with the temporary ability to absorb the dream world's spiritual energy granted by the [Sweet Dream Crystal], Jenkins stood absolutely no chance of victory.

The clash of spiritual energy was, on one hand, intangible, but the very nature of dreams gave these formless psychic attacks shape. Within the sea of consciousness, phantoms of nightmares and lies appeared in succession. Their reflections cast upon the night sky of Bel Diran plunged the city into further chaos. Every so often, colossal monsters would materialize with a roar, only to dissolve like mist. For origınal chapters go to noᴠelfire.net

As it happened, the Twelve Orthodox Churches had personnel stationed in Bel Diran. A series of investigations were swiftly launched to address the phenomenon. It didn't take them long to realize the illusions were reflections from the dream world, and they immediately linked the event to the clues uncovered during the raid on the tobacco club a few days prior.

Without a shred of hard evidence, the Church correctly deduced that the Believers of Lies were once again clashing with the [Perfume Appreciation Committee]. They even surmised that the terrifying monster from the depths of the dream world had awakened.

Papa Oliver had already rushed from his inn to the Church's headquarters, helping the Keepers of Secrets search for classified files on the Calamity Beast, the [Sin Nightmare]. Information concerning such creatures was top secret, access strictly forbidden to all but a select few. Only the Keepers of Secrets, tasked with the regular maintenance and updating of these records, were permitted to view them.

With practiced familiarity, Papa Oliver entered the archives of the Grand Library alongside the current Elder of the Keepers, Mr. Wood Broshier, and the others. He had once been a Keeper himself, and had been on the verge of becoming the next Elder, but everything had changed after that fateful journey with Old Jack.

"We may not know which of the Believers of Lies is currently fighting that calamity in the dream world, but it's clear he is no match for the monster."

Mr. Broshier said, his voice laced with deep concern as he and the others sifted through texts by moonlight—documents that might not have been opened in centuries. Every book and notebook they unsealed was bound with the holy emblem of the Sage, a testament to the forbidden nature of the knowledge within.

Papa Oliver said grimly.

To the ordinary person, the night sky was merely filled with a sudden, aurora-like display of multicolored light. It was strange, certainly, but acceptable, especially after the recent spectacle of snow falling across the entire world.

Enchanters, however, could clearly perceive the phantoms conjured by spiritual energy. Even as Papa Oliver conferred with the Keepers, a monster with three lion heads materialized in the skies above Bel Diran, only to be brutally ripped in half by a winged creature with an elongated face and tentacles sprouting from its chin.

These were the byproducts of the psychic clash between the [Sin Nightmare] and Jenkins. The former drew its forms from the nightmares of sentient life, while the latter simply dredged up monstrous shapes from his own memories.

Regardless, Jenkins was steadily losing ground. If he wanted to win, only two paths lay before him. He could, like the Sin Nightmare, gather a legion of devout followers to bolster his spiritual power. Or, he could find a more efficient way to wield that power, overwhelming his opponent's vast quantity with sheer quality.

At this thought, he immediately called out to her in his mind. In the Sage's Church in Nolan City, the sleeping girl responded to her god from within her dream. Simultaneously, the little angel Louise, who was one with Fini, sensed Jenkins's peril. Through the fragile dream-link connecting Fini and Jenkins, she channeled a portion of her own power to him.

A shield of angelic wings materialized before Jenkins, deflecting some of the Nightmare's attacks. At the same time, the monstrous forms unconsciously conjured by his own spiritual energy began to take on features related to the [Angel].

This fusion of chaotic monstrosities and sacred angelic elements made the phantasmagorical display in Bel Diran's night sky all the more bizarre and horrifying, further cementing the Church's conviction that the Believers of Lies were absolute madmen.

But this aid was far from enough. Even if Fini could be considered a fanatical believer, her faith alone could not contend with the sheer number of souls deluded by the Nightmare.

It wasn't just those who had smoked the cursed tobacco; at this moment, anyone in the throes of a dream was adding to the [Sin Nightmare]'s power. This was the creature's innate talent. For Jenkins to attempt to defeat it in its own realm was nothing short of suicide.

"There's no time to recruit new believers. I can't just make people believe in me, much less convince them to do so on such short notice..."

His consciousness drifted toward the fragile mortal souls scattered throughout the dream world, and a bold idea suddenly sparked within him. In his current state, a purely spiritual form unshackled from his physical body, he was closer than ever to his true nature as the [God of Lies]. The sleeping souls possessed only a sliver of self-awareness, which would make them far more susceptible to psychic influence.

After careful consideration, he diverted a portion of the spiritual energy he had absorbed to maintain his clash with the monster, while converting the rest into the power of his own lies. Raw spiritual power, no matter how much he accumulated, could never compare to true divinity in quality or quantity. Still, it was enough to let him wield the power of deceit with a force far beyond that of the mortal Jenkins.

He knew it was wrong, that it was immoral, but at that moment, he saw no other way:

"Mortals, believe in me..."