"Free discussion."
With only four attendees at a meeting of such unimaginable stature, topics for discussion were inevitably scarce.
Sasrir, having covered the potion sequence matter, fell silent, observing the others.
The goddess broke the silence, asking Truman, "Will you stay in the City of Deep Darkness for a while?"
"Probably not," Truman said, uncertain. "I need to visit the Sun God's divine kingdom. I have followers there I saved, and I'll spend some time guiding them."
"If the Sun God wars with other ancient gods, I'll join as the Angel of Dreams."
To secure a sufficient anchor of faith, a mere title wasn't enough—tangible deeds, like protecting followers, were needed.
He'd penned the Revelation of the Night in the City of Deep Darkness, leaving a profound mark on the Evernight Church's history. But with the Sun God, he was just a name.
The goddess glanced at Lilith. "If you take her, I'll focus on stabilizing my characteristics and uniqueness balance. My secrecy powers will weaken."
She was still awaiting the optimal moment for godhood.
"Fine," Truman nodded.
Lilith stayed silent, a mere Sanguine now.
"That's it. This Dream Council ends here. Ladies and gentlemen, we're shaping an era."
Truman waved, and everyone left the Dream Heaven.
Back in reality, the Secret Angel nodded lightly, gradually fading into secrecy, erased like pencil marks.
"I need some time," Truman said, departing, leaving an expressionless Lilith.
The Sanguine Ancestor felt a sudden irritation, realizing for the first time that regressing to a Sequence 7 Vampire was a mistake.
Truman found a stone room and took out the "Trojan Horse of Destiny" characteristic from the trade.
The Dream Parliament, deeply bound to Truman—more so than the later Fool and Sefirah Castle—made such tasks effortless.
He retrieved the Glove of the Ancient, gifted by the goddess, and the "Miracle Invoker" characteristic from the Golden Kingdom.
"All three mysterious pathway Sequence 2s are mine!"
"Traveler," "Trojan Horse of Destiny," "Miracle Invoker."
Why not Sequence 1?
Sequence 1s were too unique, fixed at three per pathway, essential for godhood, and incredibly rare to collect.
"Gloves of the Ancient…" Truman rubbed his chin, feeling the challenge. He wasn't an Artisan, unskilled at crafting mystical items. "Then smash it!"
From the Book of Dreams, he drew a blazing stream of phosphorescent dreamlight, shattering the Creeping Hunger and the other two characteristics into specks of light.
Even angels could do this, let alone him.
Instantly, vibrant, multicolored specks filled the room.
"All extraordinary characteristics will coalesce in a splendid, rational manner."
Truman made a prophecy in the Book of Dreams.
The specks stirred, forming a storm swirling around him.
"The characteristics will form a glove."
Truman spoke again.
The specks condensed, shaping a glove with mysterious patterns.
"Let's see…" Truman tested the glove's functions but immediately noticed a problem.
"The fusion of three pathways caused some bad changes," he frowned. "It involuntarily turns living beings within fifty meters into marionettes?"
The side effect was too severe—a crowd-killer. He was immune to the cost, but those around him weren't.
"Again!" He drew another stream of dreamlight, shattering the characteristics.
It was a crude method, but it would yield results. After dozens of attempts, he grasped the key.
"The characteristics will merge with phosphorescent dreamlight."
Truman spoke, and the characteristics coalesced, forming another glove.
This glove resembled the original Creeping Hunger—deep black, etched with three eerie patterns.
But it flickered with dreamlight, its back bearing a dream symbol.
The symbol, a simplified Book of Dreams, shimmered with specks of dreamlight, luring onlookers into an endless, beautiful dream.
"As expected, no mystical item is perfect. That's this world's rule," Truman said, pleased with the new Creeping Hunger.
"But I can neutralize its madness, making it less intense."
He'd been misguided, chasing a flawless item. Madness was inherent, unavoidable, especially at Sequence 2's heightened intensity.
After several trials, Truman tempered the madness. Instead of eliminating the cost, he used the Book of Dreams to restrain it, preserving the three pathways' signature abilities: historical projection, wish fulfillment, theft, return, roaming, reenactment, and more.
"Done. Still called Gloves of the Ancient—suits me."
Truman donned the glove, feeling as if the world was in his grasp.
This was due to its deep connection to the Book of Dreams.
"Perfect!" Truman nodded, satisfied.
"Wait, did I forget something?" He stepped out of the stone room.
"You're finally out…" A cold, eerie voice hissed in his ear. Truman instinctively turned.
Lilith's eyes glowed red, brimming with bestial instinct—Sanguine nature!
"Hiss!" Truman gasped.
He'd forgotten this Sanguine. Sequence 7 Vampire needed blood!
Lilith, regressed to a Sanguine for some time, was in a blood-craving state, trapped here with no way out…
"I want your blood!" Lilith's flawless face betrayed an undeniable thirst.
"Uh…" Truman wasn't keen on feeding a Sanguine. "How about I fetch some people for you to bleed?"
"No, I want your blood!" Lilith refused, fixating on him.
Her gaze reminded Truman of their first meeting, when she could've devoured him whole.
"Why?" Truman didn't refuse again, but asked.
"Your blood is pure,it's special!" Lilith's eyes blazed red, poised to pounce.
"Special?" Truman paused. "The Book of Dreams?"
"Or the so-called Purifier trait?" He recalled how potions flowed through him without leaving traces.
Even now, he didn't fully understand it, sensing only a vague rejection.
After confirming the Book of Dreams' similarity to the Chaos Sea and Sefirah Castle, he speculated it was a repulsion between Sefirot and different pathways.
(End of Chapter)