Chapter 222 – The Beginning of the Dream
Gideon put away his monocular.
"The souls of the trapped people don't seem to be inside their bodies. If we only perform an external exorcism, it will most likely be pointless."
Earlier, when he projected holy power onto the unconscious victims, he had discovered that a gray aura lingered around each of their brains.
If his judgment was correct, this was the manifestation of the Sin of Suffering.
Without the aid of [Ethernet Sight], Gideon would never have noticed such a subtle clue.
Yet despite the presence of this aura, their souls were nowhere to be found.
He had seen a similar phenomenon before—during the Hand of the Apostle commission.
Acting on instinct, Gideon began searching for spirit chains.
Activating it, and expending a considerable amount of holy power, he finally caught sight of them—faint, transparent chains.
Each chain stretched into nearby space, vanishing into an unknown destination.
Combining this discovery with Freddy's known abilities—and his knowledge of the original cases—Gideon quickly reached a conclusion:
The victims' souls had been dragged into a dream realm.
Only by pulling them out of the dream could the victims truly be freed.
Otherwise, Freddy would still be able to kill them—over and over again—within the dream.
That was why Gideon had spoken earlier.
Yet among everyone present, only a few truly understood what he meant.
Wilton narrowed his eyes.
Before arriving, he had reviewed Gideon's files and knew that his imprint was Dual-Eye Manifestation.
That was precisely why Wilton had allowed him to accompany the mission.
What he hadn't expected was that Gideon could observe the souls of the living.
According to church records, only priests on the verge of completing Second-Tier Eye-Based Holy Arts could perceive that deeply—and doing so consumed enormous amounts of holy power.
A foolish brat, Wilton sneered inwardly.
So you think showing a bit of talent means you can represent the Church?
Henry the Knight was the other person who understood Gideon's implication.
As an inheritor of the Spirit of Loyalty, he had been personally cultivated as one of the Monarch's confidants.
From a young age, Henry had taken part in countless exorcism missions. He knew that some special demons could steal human souls through abnormal means.
Such evils were almost always extremely powerful.
Ordinary purification methods were useless—one had to locate the realm where the souls were imprisoned to rescue them.
And that meant stepping directly into the enemy's domain.
Dangerous. Extremely dangerous.
Henry glanced at Gideon.
Disheveled clothes. Improper demeanor.
Exactly the kind of man who didn't understand etiquette.
He despised people like that.
Compared to him, that church dog Wilton was at least tolerable.
Still, Henry couldn't deny his surprise at Gideon's perception.
But agreeing with him?
Never.
This mission was under intense public scrutiny.
The Lord Knights would use this opportunity to tear away the Church's ugly façade.
With that thought, Henry snorted coldly.
"You're the one warning us about the influence of evil," he said sharply, his voice rising.
"And now you're asking us to voluntarily fall asleep and enter the dream?"
His gaze hardened.
"Or is the Church planning to kill us while we sleep, then pin the blame on the evil inside?"
The accusation was vicious.
The people present came from different factions and shared no trust whatsoever.
Even if Gideon's analysis was correct, none of them were willing to risk their lives cooperating blindly.
As expected, the moment Henry finished speaking, both Mark and Winona looked at Gideon with suspicion.
Wilton was about to refute Gideon as well—but when he saw someone attempting to smear the Church, he immediately spoke up in defense.
Gideon watched the scene calmly.
These self-proclaimed champions of justice were more concerned with slinging accusations than saving civilians who were genuinely in danger.
The irony was suffocating.
The argument dragged on for a while longer before Henry finally looked at everyone coldly.
"No matter what tricks you intend to play, the Lord Knights will save those people in our own way."
He turned around sharply.
"Knight Pence, it's time we leave."
Pence hesitated. "B-But… what that priest said makes some sense—"
Before he could finish, he met Henry's icy gaze.
"Apprentice Knight," Henry said coldly,
"Have you forgotten the oath you swore upon receiving your knighthood?"
Pence looked like a child who had just been scolded.
"I'm sorry, Knight Henry."
The two of them soon disappeared down the stairwell.
Seeing this, Gail stepped forward instinctively—but Mark suddenly grabbed her arm.
"Gail, have you forgotten the principles of Humanity's Light?" he said in a low voice.
"Our organization still needs time to grow. That's why we're temporarily cooperating with the Church—but in the end, we're not on the same path."
"But…" Gail hesitated.
She glanced at Gideon, then ultimately remained silent.
"We still need materials to research a way to prevent sleep induction," Mark said.
"So we'll excuse ourselves for now."
With that, he pulled Gail away.
In just a few minutes, only the Church, the police, and the Wizard Association remained.
Winona turned to Lombarn, intending to leave with him as well.
But Lombarn stepped forward first.
"Church representatives, rescuing the trapped civilians is the most important priority right now. Witch Winona and I will fully assist you."
Winona: ???
When did I agree to that?!
Didn't you hear what that irritating knight just said?!
She screamed internally.
The conflict between witches and the Church dated back over a thousand years, only easing in recent decades.
Modern witches had come to realize that only by becoming rule-makers could they truly step into the sunlight.
With evil resurging in this era, some pioneers were trying to unite all factions.
But conservative voices still strongly opposed such changes.
Winona was one of them.
She was about to object—but Lombarn subtly shook his head.
Left with no choice, she swallowed her words.
After all, she and Lombarn had struck a deal before coming here.
Wilton stared coldly toward the stairwell.
These despicable heretics will one day face the Lord's judgment.
He then turned his attention to the short wizard.
"Those who voluntarily offer their value are always appreciated by the Church."
The words were grating—he was clearly treating them as subordinates.
But in Wilton's eyes, this was already a generous concession.
A few centuries ago, he would have burned them at the stake.
Lombarn frowned slightly but maintained his smile.
"We can provide a Waking Potion. Once applied, it can awaken a person for a period of time, no matter how deeply they were asleep."
He turned to the witch.
"Winona, potion-making is your specialty. I'll leave this to you."
She nodded reluctantly.
Wilton interrupted, "That won't be necessary."
"The Church has its own methods. I will assign Father Gideon to handle the preparations."
After Gideon's earlier reminder, Wilton realized his original exorcism plan was impractical.
Though displeased, whether for the Church's goals—or out of respect for the archbishop backing Gideon—he had to compromise.
But everything had to happen under Wilton's command.
Gideon caught the implication.
He smiled faintly and walked straight toward Lombarn.
"Then I'll be counting on you, Wizard."
Lombarn's face lit up.
"With the Church taking the lead, the innocent will surely return safely."
He raised his hand high.
"I believe this will be a cooperation built on mutual understanding."
Gideon bent slightly and shook his hand.
"Let's hope so."
They reached a tacit alliance—completely ignoring Wilton, who was quietly fuming.
"Father Wilton," Bettice said gently, stepping in to smooth things over,
"The Church entrusted leadership to you because of your devotion and noble status."
"The upcoming ritual will still require your supervision."
Wilton's expression eased at last, and he said nothing further.
Sheriff Roberto had been standing off to the side like a ghost.
Dear God… once this mission is over, I'm filing for reassignment, he thought.
If I stay involved in this kind of mess, I'll need to plan my funeral early.
After the witches left to brew the potion, Gideon approached Roberto again.
"On the path leading to the athletic field, I saw support officers collapsed at different locations. Did the 'sleep boundary' ever expand?"
"Yes," Roberto nodded.
"When we first received the call, it was limited to the field. But within an hour of our arrival, the range expanded three times—until it reached its current size."
Gideon lowered his head in thought.
"It hasn't expanded since," Roberto added.
"I see," Gideon said. "That's important."
Bettice approached.
"Father Gideon, do you have a plan? Perhaps I can help."
"We'll enter the dream world directly and bring the trapped souls back," Gideon said.
"But before that, we must set up defensive formations to prevent other evils from taking advantage."
Bettice listened carefully.
"I understand. I'll handle the formation."
She had been given many high-grade holy artifacts by Archbishop Ortega before departing.
Gideon pointed toward a location near the school's perimeter.
"That area is on the edge, relatively open, and suitable for rapid evacuation if necessary. Use it as the ritual site."
Bettice nodded and took note.
Wilton felt displeased—but had to admit Gideon's thinking was thorough.
After Bettice and Wilton left, Gideon went to a nearby conference room.
He placed holy relics and demon-binding bells around the area.
There was no immediate evil presence—but potion brewing would take time, and the boundary had expanded before.
Better to be cautious.
Some time later—
Click.
The conference room door opened, releasing a strange smell.
Lombarn emerged holding a glass vial filled with pale purple liquid.
"This is the Waking Potion. Its effect activates five hours after application."
He uncorked it and dabbed some on his forehead before handing it over.
Gideon accepted it and examined it with holy power.
It does carry a mental-stimulating effect. No trickery.
"One bottle per person," Lombarn said.
"Winona is preparing backups."
Gideon nodded and pocketed the vial.
---
Suddenly—the building shook.
The air warped violently.
"What… is… happening…" Lombarn asked warily.
But to Gideon, Lombarn's voice echoed unnaturally.
The potion?
No—he dismissed the thought immediately.
Three low, sinister chuckles echoed through the space.
And an overwhelming drowsiness surged through Gideon's mind.
So this is it.
The force acted directly on the mind—impossible to resist.
Lombarn collapsed instantly.
Glass shattered inside the conference room.
Gideon forced his eyes open, circulating holy power—
And in the final moment before losing consciousness, he smeared the potion onto his forehead.
The same thing happened across the school grounds.
Bettice lay sprawled on the grass, mouth slightly open, breathing softly.
Holy artifacts lay scattered—her formation incomplete.
Nearby, Wilton's head was buried in a trash bin, knees on the ground.
A silk handkerchief with half a piece of gum stuck to it dangled from his fingers.
By the lakeside, the two knights slept sprawled without dignity.
Inside the equipment tent, Mark drooled over paperwork.
Gail sat beside him, elegant even in sleep—arms crossed, her breathing stirring dangerous curves.
Sadly, Mark missed the view.
"Wake up! You've been discovered!"
Gideon jolted awake.
Green wooden desks. Bright fluorescent lights.
A long whiteboard covered in writing.
A classroom?
"Why… am I here?"
He shielded his eyes, exhaustion flooding his mind.
"So sleepy…"
He couldn't remember anything.
But the warning echoed in his head.
I've been discovered…
He turned.
A tall woman sat beside him—familiar, yet nameless.
Her eyes were filled with panic, signaling desperately.
Gideon stared blankly at a prominent feature instead.
Until a hoarse, rasping voice cut in.
"Cunning. Cruelty. Greed. These are the shadows etched into human nature."
"Every human is an executioner—only skilled at pretending otherwise."
Am I… in class?
This lesson feels… wrong.
The classroom suddenly fell silent.
Every student froze.
Gideon inhaled slowly—and turned.
On the podium stood a thin figure.
Red-and-green striped sweater.
Round-brimmed hat.
Burned skin. Patchwork scars.
A grotesque, twisted face.
"Hehehe…"
"You were distracted."
Students turned mechanically—grinning ear to ear.
"We found you."
Gideon tried to stand—but couldn't move.
The figure vanished.
And reappeared in front of him.
"You can run," the teacher whispered.
"But you can't hide."
The student ahead of him shook violently—
Slash.
Blood sprayed across Gideon's desk.
A leather glove emerged—five blades protruding, dripping gore and flesh.
Gideon forced himself to look up.
The teacher smiled.
"You're next."
---