"But since it is a dream, there will always come a time to wake up, won't there?" Nolan lowered his head slightly and spoke slowly in a deep voice.
His gaze fixed on the distance, as if piercing through the edge of the world to see the cruel reality behind the dream.
"Even if this is only the beginning of the next slumber, perhaps in the next dream, we will encounter entirely different sights and fortunes."
Nolan's words drifted through the air like a gentle breeze passing through the silent night.
For a time, everything around them fell into a long silence.
Messmer quietly watched Nolan before him. Their tall, thin figures were surrounded by roaring flames.
The man stood like a mysterious statue on a lonely terrace, bearing some deep and indescribable meaning.
"But I don't want any other dreams." Messmer finally broke the silence, his voice as faint as a whisper in the wind.
Then he smiled again, a smile uglier than crying. "You heartless betrayer who enjoys sweet dreams. How could you bear to make... Mother sad?"
"Sweet dreams... Who wouldn't want them? Even now, I still cling to them, hoping this sweet dream can continue."
Nolan gently shook his head. These people of the Lands Between had simply grown too used to good days. Send them to Dark Souls to burn for a couple of days, and they would behave.
This perfectly good world, and someone had to make a complete mess of it. Now that woman was making trouble for him on top of that.
Messmer had never been a target Nolan absolutely had to kill. This Demigod had no ambition to become a Lord, nor did he possess a Great Rune that had to be taken.
Nolan had originally planned to treat this child in a gentler, friendlier way, but someone was set on pushing Messmer beneath his blade.
Marika. That woman was so willful it gave him a headache.
"But she is still having nightmares." Messmer lowered his head, his voice low, like a stubborn little boy. "You abandoned her. She is my mother."
When did I ever abandon her? Wasn't she the one who ran off every time after having her fun? When did I become some scumbag who abandoned his wife and child?
That wicked woman Marika really would stop at nothing to get what she wanted. She was nothing but lies from head to toe.
"So you have only listened to your mother's side of the story. A child this willful and rebellious may need to be taught with the iron fist of fatherly love."
Nolan spoke slowly.
He let out a deep sigh, then instinctively turned his head. In that instant, an ominous feeling rose in his heart.
A sinister voice came from behind him, as if drifting up from the underworld.
"I knew it. He really is your child, isn't he?"
"I only saw that a child needed comfort," Nolan said solemnly.
"Is that so? Then if we have children in the future, will you treat them with this same gentleness and patience?"
Trina looked him up and down.
Nolan froze for a moment, then the corner of his mouth lifted. He raised his head, revealing a warm and confident smile.
"Of course. But don't you think it's a little early to talk about that?"
"They will grow up!" Trina felt a chill in her heart.
"Little sister, you should not help this man hurt Mother. Give Father back," Messmer said coldly.
Trina whipped her head around and glared at Messmer, shouting furiously,
"So it really was all Marika's doing! She must be the one who turned Nolan into a Tarnished One too. How hateful. Melina must have been sent by that woman as well!"
Trina raised her soft pink fist, her fingers pressed together like a little bun, and pounded heavily on Nolan's armor. "I knew she was up to no good."
"Now is not the time to poison that little fool against her." Nolan glanced at her, his blue-green pupils growing brighter. "I wonder whether she has remembered anything..."
"Father, Sister, atone to Mother!" Messmer's eyes widened in fury. The muscles in his legs tightened, then exploded with force.
With a deafening boom, the ground beneath his feet instantly caved in, forming a massive pit.
His whole body shot forward like a heavy war chariot charging at full speed, carrying overwhelming force and momentum as he burst forth like a fire dragon emerging from the mountains.
"How dare he say such things and slander your innocence, Nolan! Teach this ignorant fool a proper lesson!"
Trina cried out in anger, raising her fair, delicate little hand and pointing forward with force.
"My Lady, where did your gentleness go?" Nolan drew the Dark Moon Greatsword from his spirit ring.
Gentleness? What use was that against a wicked woman trying to steal her man? A morally corrupt mother like that deserved to be beaten to death with sticks, Trina thought furiously.
Regardless of the touching scene of motherly kindness and filial devotion unfolding in Trina's mind, Nolan felt the oncoming pressure of the wind and lifted his head.
Messmer suddenly appeared before him, thrusting out the war spear in his hand.
The boy kept calling him old father, but his hands showed no mercy at all. He came straight for the kill, the spearpoint aimed directly at Nolan's head.
At this point, even if it was a father-son scuffle, he could not simply take it head-on. As long as he still wore a human body, the head would always remain life's weak point.
Nolan tilted his head slightly, his gaze sharpening in an instant like a hunting leopard locking onto its prey.
He swiftly extended his right hand, seized Messmer's wrist with perfect precision, and suddenly tightened his five fingers.
A series of chilling cracks rang out. Messmer's wrist bones were crushed and snapped on the spot.
The intense pain made Messmer roar.
But no matter how he struggled, he could not pull his hand free from Nolan's iron-clamp grip.
Nolan's tensed arm was like the jaws of a dragon beast, biting down hard on Messmer's hand and giving him no chance to escape.
Nolan kicked Messmer in the chest. A thunderous crash rang out, mixed with the sharp sound of ribs breaking.
The huge impact sent the two of them flying apart. Nolan completed a clean three-hundred-and-sixty-degree turn in midair, then landed steadily in a sideways crouch.
At that moment, Messmer was completely stunned.
His life had been long enough, but he had never encountered anything like this before.
An unknown father who had seduced Mother with a pretty face should have been lucky just to dodge that strike. Yet he had actually counterattacked?
Nolan was now half crouched, his entire body covered in a fine layer of Flying Dragon scales.
Those scales opened and closed with his breathing, as if alive.
The Flying Dragon wings on his back slowly unfolded like two enormous hands, while the muscles hidden beneath the scales rippled like water.
Once everything was ready, those muscles suddenly tightened and took shape, erupting with astonishing power.
He had to show this rebellious son that his old man was not so easy to bully.
***
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