Chapter 100: March 7th's Magical Dream Adventure
In the quiet hum of the Astral Express, while Stelle had plummeted into a dead sleep the absolute second her head hit the pillow, March 7th remained wide awake.
She sat cross-legged on her mattress, her room bathed in the soft, ambient glow of the cosmos drifting outside her window. Cupped carefully in her palms was the warm, smooth surface of the Sheep Talisman. Her pink-blue eyes sparkled in the dim light, brimming with the intense, restless curiosity of a dedicated researcher.
"Astral projection... perceiving the Memoria... phasing through solid walls... manipulating the power of the soul..." she muttered to herself, ticking off the known functions on her fingers. Her small face scrunched up in deep thought. "I just feel like... it has to do more, right? A treasure this cool definitely isn't that simple!"
She focused her mind. The Sheep Talisman resting in her hands responded instantly, emitting a soft, pulsing white glow.
A familiar, airy sense of weightlessness washed over her. Within seconds, March 7th's spirit body gently separated and floated upward, leaving her physical form resting peacefully on the bed.
She drifted around her room, doing a few experimental twirls in the air before aiming for the wall. She pushed forward—and slipped right through the solid metal without a single hitch. Success!
Emboldened, she glided down the corridor and poked her head into the parlor car. The warm, yellow light of a desk lamp illuminated Welt, who was carefully adjusting the tiny gears of a new model blueprint. A few steps away, Himeko sat quietly by the bar, casually flipping through a thick, leather-bound book while a fresh cup of coffee steamed beside her.
March drifted closer, reaching out to tap the porcelain rim of the coffee cup. Her translucent fingertips phased straight through the ceramic, grasping nothing but empty air.
"Sigh... I really can only watch." March 7th propped her chin in her hands, floating aimlessly near the ceiling, a pout forming on her lips. "Could it be that on the Astral Express, my only destiny is to be a flying ghost camera?"
Just then, a spark of pure inspiration struck her mind, bright and sudden as a shooting star streaking across the cosmic sea.
"Wait! Dream-sharing!" She spun a rapid, excited loop in the air. "Isn't that a super common trope in those Xianzhou light novels? The wise immortals bestowing secret guidance through dreams! I'm literally in a soul state right now! Isn't this the absolute perfect setup for dream-sharing?"
The more she turned the idea over in her head, the more brilliant it seemed. Her large eyes gleamed with eager mischief.
"Practice makes perfect! Now, who should be my lucky test subject?" Her gaze drifted naturally toward the adjacent room. A wicked, playful little smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. "Hehehe... Stelle~ Sleeping so soundly, aren't you? My dearest, most wonderful trailblazing companion, you're the chosen one! Let me personally deliver this brand-new 'sweet dream' service I've just invented!"
Bubbling with a mix of mischievous excitement and a tiny, fleeting prickle of guilt, March 7th's pink-blue spirit phased through the cold metal bulkhead of the Express, drifting silently into Stelle's quarters.
Stelle was sprawled out dead center on her mattress in a starfish pose. The heavy quilt had been mercilessly kicked into a crumpled heap in the corner. A goofy, satisfied smile lingered on her lips, suggesting she was deeply immersed in some incredibly pleasant fantasy, completely defenseless to the waking world.
"Hehehehe..." March floated right up to the bedside, taking in Stelle's utterly ungraceful sleeping posture. She couldn't hold back a low, sneaky chuckle, feeling exactly like a cartoon villain whose evil plan was finally coming together.
But as her laughter faded, looking down at Stelle's peaceful, relaxed face, that tiny prickle of guilt flared up again. She quickly clasped her translucent hands together, bowing her head to rapidly mumble a preemptive apology to the sleeping girl.
"Stelle, oh Stelle, as your absolute best friend, I promise I'm not doing this just to prank you! This is strictly for the sake of scientific experimentation! We have to unlock the great potential of the Sheep Talisman! You're so generous and loyal, you'll definitely understand and forgive me, right? Mm-hmm, if you don't say anything, I'm taking that as a yes!"
This rapid-fire, self-comforting apology ritual was completed in the blink of an eye. Her voice was as light as a falling feather, and the softly snoring Stelle naturally didn't hear a single syllable. To top it off, March gave a solemn, formal little bow toward the bed.
With the moral high ground firmly secured, March 7th felt entirely justified in her actions.
She leaned in close, her glowing fingertips hovering just millimeters above Stelle's brow.
"So... how exactly do I get in?" she mumbled to herself. "In the Xianzhou stories, the immortals just tap the forehead and boom, they're in the dream. Whatever, I'll just wing it!"
She focused her entire being, visualizing her spirit piercing through the invisible, fragile membrane of the dreamscape. Her index finger lightly tapped Stelle's forehead. She chanted repeatedly in her mind: 'Enter the dream... I want to enter the dream... let me go in and see...'
Buzz—!
The absolute second her fingertip made contact, a bizarre, powerful suction force gripped her. It felt as though she had been yanked headfirst into a swirling vortex of raw consciousness. The quiet room around her violently twisted and stretched, colors bleeding and mixing together like a wildly overturned paint palette.
The next second, her boots hit solid ground. March 7th stood perfectly steady in a bizarre, hyper-colorful world.
This was unmistakably the Night Kingdom!
However, this was the Night Kingdom rendered exclusively through the chaotic, "highlight special edition" filter of Stelle's unique brain. The sky above was an exaggerated, blinding purplish-red, and the ground was carved with flowing rivers of neon, rainbow-colored energy.
But the environment was nothing compared to the sheer shock of seeing her "teammates" scattered around the battlefield.
Where were Lumine, Paimon, and Dan Heng?
Everywhere March looked, towering, muscular figures stood in heroic poses. But they weren't human. They were rigidly defined, absurdly buff, iconic Lordly Trashcans!
The only conceivable way to tell who was who was by looking at the extremely abstract, crookedly drawn portraits slapped haphazardly onto the metallic chests of each Lordly Trashcan. The chaotic, wild art style, the violently distorted lines, and the total collapse of basic anatomical proportions looked exactly like the infamous "soul portraits" Gepard had personally drawn back when they were wanted fugitives in Belobog!
March 7th squinted, finally spotting the trashcan bearing her own face. The drawing featured twisted, asymmetrical facial features and a chaotic mop of scribbled pink hair. Was Stelle's artistic talent seriously this horrifying on a normal day?!
"Pfft..." March's spirit body shook as she desperately tried to hold back a burst of laughter. But a second later, a surge of utterly nameless indignation flared up in her chest.
'Hey, wait a minute! You absolute menace, Stelle! It's one thing to turn all of us into muscular trashcan bros in your head, but why did you have to draw me so incredibly ugly?!'she fumed inwardly.'You're a hundred times worse of a soul painter than Gepard! And to think I actually felt guilty about invading your dream!'
Before she could complain further, the dream's narrative suddenly accelerated, hurtling toward its grand climax.
"Stelle," who had miraculously retained her normal human appearance, stood dead center in the battlefield. She was decked out in an impossibly cool, stylized version of her usual attire, gripping a shimmering, majestic weapon known as the Glazed Star Sword.
Opposite her floated the Iniquitous Baptist, radiating a suffocating, ominous black aura. Surprisingly, the monster's design was incredibly faithful to reality.
"Take this! Fire Dance Whirlwind—Golden Light Demon Subduing!" Stelle roared with world-shaking momentum. She hoisted the Glazed Star Sword high above her head with both hands. The blade instantly began drawing in a blinding, swirling vortex of golden light, charging up what was clearly meant to be an devastating, ultimate finishing blow!
"Here's my chance!" March 7th's eyes lit up, her mischievous spirit burning brighter than ever.
With a single, focused thought, she channeled the power of her spirit form, visualizing a replacement for the epic weapon.
Right at the exact millisecond Stelle brought her arms down to swing the mighty blade!
The impressive Glazed Star Sword flashed violently, instantly transforming into... a golden, admittedly rather high-quality... heavy-duty flashlight!
"Huh?" The dream-version of Stelle froze mid-swing, blinking in sheer bewilderment.
But her epic "Golden Light Demon Subduing" combat pose was already locked in. The arrow was on the string; the momentum couldn't be stopped. Driven by pure muscle memory, her thumb instinctively slammed down on the flashlight's power switch.
Whoosh—!
A painfully bright, concentrated beam of LED light shot out of the plastic lens, blasting directly into the "face" of the Iniquitous Baptist.
The terrifying abyssal creature froze in the blinding glare. It subconsciously raised a clawed hand to shield its eyes, letting out a highly confused, raspy hiss. "Hmm...?"
It took absolutely zero damage. It just stood there, mildly inconvenienced and slightly dazed by the sudden high beams.
"???" Stelle stared blankly at the plastic flashlight in her grip, then looked back up at the apocalyptic boss monster who was currently just blinking away spots in its vision. Her face scrunched up into a mask of pure, unadulterated confusion.
"Wait, that's not right... Is my Golden Light Demon Subduing supposed to look like this?"
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