A Tale Whispered in Nightmares
Yuria walked through the darkness. Silently, through pitch-black void where she couldn't see an inch ahead.
Where... am I? She'd been talking with Shuen, returned to her dorm, and lain down in bed. So why was she standing here? As a bewildered Yuria wandered the gloom, a voice echoed from one corner.
"Please…!"
A woman's voice, sobbing softly.
"Pleeease! Please... please just...!"
Desperate. Forlorn. A voice brimming with profound sorrow that reverberated hollowly through the dark space. It was less sorrow than a raw scream. Just hearing it made her chest tighten.
Who's there...? Startled, Yuria groped along the wall toward the sound. She soon spotted a faint light seeping from somewhere and let out a sigh of relief.
Is it here...? Reaching the spot where a sliver of light leaked through a hole barely wide enough for a finger, Yuria pressed her face to it.
"Pleeease...!"
Curiosity burned—who was weeping so mournfully? What tragedy had befallen them to wrench such agonized cries? Eager to know, Yuria peered slowly through the hole. Then she jerked her face away in horror at the unimaginable sight.
What the...?!
Beyond the hole, a woman in ornate clothes clutched a man. A man with a massive gaping wound in his body.
"Open your eyes, please..."
The woman kept stroking the man's face with trembling hands. Her pink hair soaked in blood, but she didn't care. She persisted.
"Please, come on...? I'm begging you... It's all my fault... Please...!"
The figure beyond—herself—kept caressing someone's cheek. Desperately. She wore white clothes, yet they looked so dark. Yuria couldn't shake the dissonance as she watched with trembling eyes. Why was she dressed like that? Who was the man in her arms? And why did he look in such pain? As unanswered questions quickened her heartbeat...
"...Who are you?"
Crash! Yuria's eyes met the woman's as she whipped her head around at the killing intent in her voice. Clutching her chest, Yuria exhaled shakily. A small voice came from beyond the wall, as if the woman had sensed her presence.
"Do you... know healing magic?"
"..."
"I can't heal anyone else anymore...."
"..."
"So... so...! He won't heal...!"
"..."
"Even after I poured all my mana into him, he won't heal...."
"..."
"Can you save him...?"
The woman spoke to Yuria with murderous intent.
"If you do, I'll let you live."
As the woman's icy voice faded, an overwhelming aura approached. Cracks spiderwebbed through the dark room.
Crackle. The quaking space shed fragments, light leaking in as if about to shatter inward.
Crackle-crunch... rumble!!! Just as the woman's hand reached through the hole, the darkness exploded. Her vision brightened.
"Hah... hah..."
Drenched in sweat, Yuria bolted upright, gasping raggedly.
"What was that."
A nightmare. A terrifyingly vivid one.
Another peaceful day at the Young Lady's mansion. Back from the valley, I'd bathed her, tucked her in up to her neck, and closed her eyes. Night had fallen.
I'd planned to camp in the cave, but the rain stopped right on cue, so I scrapped it and returned. Now, I sighed in mild regret.
"Ricardo."
"Yes."
"Rain stopped."
"...It did."
"Wanna play more?"
"It's midnight?"
"Hmnya."
Gazing at the night sky while roughing it would've been fun. But I couldn't let a noble sleep in a cave, so I'd rushed back through the dark and prepped for bed swiftly. One special event, though.
"Ricardo."
"Yes, Young Lady."
"No ghosts, right?"
"Who knows."
"Eek!"
Tonight's event: sleeping with the Young Lady. Not a bad deal, really. Maybe even better than romantic camping.
Not because I could sneak a feel of her treasure pouch with a clear conscience, of course. I'm a gentleman who's served her for 13 years.
I smiled faintly at the Young Lady lying beside me on the narrow bed.
"But Young Lady."
"Mm."
"Why my bed?"
"Just. Wanted to lie in Ricardo's bed for old times' sake."
"Yours is bigger."
"Gave it to Gomtang today."
"...?"
She buried her face in my chest and muttered a curt goodnight.
"Sleep well."
"..."
"Guhhh! Snort. Guhhh!"
Sleep wasn't happening tonight.
What the.
Eyes shut, strange scenes unfolded before me. I'd figured her snoring ruined any chance of sleep...
...A lullaby?
Her surprisingly upbeat snores lulled me under. I lifted my head with a hollow smile. Nice to dream again after so long. First since becoming a Sword Master, maybe. No need for sleep at my level, so this dream intrigued me. Hoped it'd be naughty—bathing with the Young Lady, her in a bikini, her und...
Anyway. Blue sky. Soaring birds. And.
"Kill them!"
A bloodthirsty roar. I scanned around awkwardly, bummed that my rare dream was a total mess.
Chaos everywhere. Soldiers with swords on all sides. The heart of a blood-soaked battlefield. And I held a sword too.
What is this.
Dark brown armor: imperial forces. White armor clashing with the carnage: heretics. Lame setup for a dream. I grimaced at the outnumbered imperials.
They're losing ground.
Seemed even at a glance, but closer look said otherwise. I shook my head.
Work in my dreams too?
Arrogant dream. Possession trope or something? And a scene not even in the novel.
Sigh... annoying.
Imperials weren't losing due to poor quality—they were elites. Just no match for heretic leaders. Rowen guarded the emperor, Heinz the tower. Top firepower here? Probably that guy.
"Kill!!! "
"..."
Silver-haired youth—no, girl. Mihail. Felt like peeking far into the future. Full-blown heretic-empire war.
Her sword aura blazed white, felling foes while sparing vitals. Impressive.
"Leave this to me and move the wounded! I'll join another line."
"Yes, sir!"
"No time...! Move!"
Protagonist stays protagonist. I nodded at her calm command, eyes shifting elsewhere. Then, nearby—boom! Massive flame pillar.
"Fuck! Ambush bullshit!"
"Gahhh!!!"
"Kill that mage first! In the god's name!"
"Fuck off, what god? Go find your mom."
Ruin's spells rained down. All grown splendidly. As novel protags. As reliable comrades. Admirable.
And.
Whoosh...
Crown Prince Kyle's precise swordplay drew awe. Not slacking either.
Relieved at their efforts seizing momentum. At least pulling weight in the dream. Hope reality matches, but fat chance.
...Whew.
Familiar faces on heretic side too.
"Oh? Isn't that Mihail? Did my capital gift please you?"
"Damn..."
"My ultimate art...!"
Mantis there. Archbishops I'd slain. And.
"Tower disciple, lost your way?"
"Fuck."
"Pray to god. He'll send you somewhere nice."
Apostle of Mercy Olaf too. Total mess.
Numerically even, but qualitatively outmatched. Like whispering imperial defeat. They couldn't touch apostles yet. How win against one who reattaches limbs? Even I barely grasped how I'd beaten one.
I nodded, passing them. Stopped before an imperial-surrounded cluster. Overwhelming assault—like killing him would clinch victory. General, mages, even Malik joined the barrage.
But.
"Why."
He endured nonchalantly. Overpowered. Malik gritted teeth, pouring aura—yet the man stood casual. Face hidden, but apostle-level for sure.
Then.
Kaboom!
A woman burst through, unleashing everything to kill him. I chuckled dryly at her ferocity. Didn't know she had it in her.
"I'll kill you...!"
"...Why."
"Rip your flesh to shreds..."
"Why do you hate me so much?"
It was Yuria. The woman channeling holy power, steeped in hatred and grief.
Signs of overusing it showed on her body, yet she blasted the man before her. Nothing like the Yuria I knew.
Whoa... Scary. Is angry Yuria like this? Better not piss her off. I shuddered.
Then, through fading assault, the man's faint figure made me freeze.
Huh.
"I've lost so much because of you."
Why am I there.
"What did I do to make you this mad?"
Dream-me with longer hair endured her attacks, standing alone. Red hair, Tirving in hand. Dark expression. Handsome face, but forced brightness? Complex smile at Yuria, thoughtful. She wouldn't notice.
"I'll kill you."
"Why? Like the other archbishops?"
"I'll kill you myself."
"Ah... Your dad? Or that Academy friend... Kaila?"
"Shut up... Don't say her name with that filthy mouth."
"Pfft... hahaha! This is insane. What an idiot...."
"Ricardo!!!"
Whoa... Even I thought dream-me looked like trash. Third-rate villain level—wanted to punch him.
Dream-me swung wide, sneering at Yuria.
"Keep hoping. Your dad's still alive."
"...You think I'll fall for that?"
"Oh? And if not? What'll you do?"
"..."
"He's doing fine, don't worry. Oh, didn't say 'human,' did I?"
"You bastard!"
Dream-me parried her surging fury, face hardening coldly.
"Why? You took something precious from me too. One's fair, right?"
"...Watch your mouth."
"You know how revenge twists people. Why act surprised."
"...You."
"Elixir."
"..."
"Bring it. Now. Before I kill you all."
My sword drew inky curtains, devouring space. Yuria crumpled from the aura strike. Tirving at her throat as she struggled to close her eyes, dream-me murmured calmly. Inaudible, but like 'Sorry.'
Yuria glared, gripping my ankle with killing eyes.
"I'll kill you."
I smiled at her.
"That'd be nice."
"Wow..."
"???"
Waking, the Young Lady dug in her nose and offered her finger.
"Wanna eat?"
"Pardon?"
"Tasty."
"...?"
At her innocent display, I flopped back on the bed, thinking it all a crazy dream.
"Eeee! Don't ignore me!"
"Eat up, Young Lady."
"Eeee... Mm."
"No! Don't actually eat it!"
"Eek..."
Really.
"Then give to Gomtang."
Definitely a crazy dream.