"Aren't you afraid my blood will taint you?" Truman pressed a hand against Lilith, who was about to pounce, her bloodsucking instincts barely restrained.
Or perhaps she was deliberately showing them to him.
"Taint?" Lilith bared her fangs, eyes still crimson. "Your blood has no impurities."
"There's another possibility—my blood itself is an impurity, just excessively pure," Truman quipped.
His blood was problematic, possibly akin to a Sefirah.
Who'd dare consume a Sefirah raw?
"It's harmless," Lilith insisted. "To my senses, your blood smells human, elven, even giant or Sanguine."
"But my spirituality tells me it's safe," she added, not hiding her craving.
"Your eyes make me feel otherwise." Truman's face darkened, the atmosphere between them shifting subtly.
That look—the goddess had it when she first saw him, and so did Lilith. Being eyed like mystical Tang Monk meat was deeply unsettling!
To avoid such scenarios, he'd created the Dream Parliament.
The Dream Parliament was built around his unique trait, letting all benefit but none monopolize.
This was Truman's balance.
"…Sorry!" Lilith's crimson gaze dimmed, and seeing Truman's grim expression, she reined herself in.
For a former ancient god to apologize was unprecedented.
Truman's expression softened.
He glanced at the genuine red in Lilith's eyes, hesitated, then pulled a goblet from the historical mist. With a flick of his finger, it filled with blood-red liquid.
"Drink this," he said, handing it to her.
"What is it?" Lilith eyed the liquid, unable to resist asking.
"My concept of blood," Truman explained.
Taste aside, like the wine he gave Sasrir, it was conjured from phosphorescent dreamlight, utterly unique.
"Gulp!" Lilith downed it, her eyes' red fading, returning to normal.
"Another!"
"No," Truman refused, improvising a reason. "Keep your desires—your humanity will sprout from them…"
...
Truman brought Lilith to the Sun God's divine kingdom, to his own territory.
He hadn't forgotten the Golden Kingdom's followers.
These tens of thousands had been absorbed by the Sun God's faithful, organized as lambs under the Angel of Dream's care.
Such matters were handled by specialists in the Sun God's kingdom, requiring no input from Truman. Under divine might, they'd quietly shift faith, becoming devotees of the Dream.
"My followers?" Truman's expression was odd. This was his first time with followers explicitly devoted to him, their highest aspiration, unlike the indirect roles of pontiff or angel.
He pondered, then accepted these follower anchors.
In that instant, a pure, radiant rainbow burst across the sky, drawing every gaze in the territory.
In a daze, their faith—once warped from the Giant King's image—gained tangible reality.
Instinctively, they prayed, reciting the honorific etched in their hearts.
"Spirit of Truth;
Pure One;
Traveler of Time and Space;
Angel of Dreams."
"I beseech your gaze, your descent."
This was Truman's self-crafted angelic honorific name, strikingly precise. As followers chanted, countless voices echoed in his mind.
The Book of Dreams rose, shedding Truman's disguising cover, revealing its dazzling, dreamy binding.
Phosphorescent dreamlight spilled, merging with the followers' bodies, invigorating them. Mental damage from the Demonic Wolf's schemes was fully healed.
"Thanks to the Lord's grace!" Tens of thousands knelt, a surging tide.
"Own followers are indeed far better than borrowed ones," Truman mused. The Book of Dreams' response was remarkable.
Holding the Book of Dreams, Truman appeared amid the rainbow light, conjuring twelve pure-white wings behind him, divinity at its peak.
For now, worship centered on divine statues, the sole faith of this territory.
Truman pointed, and endless dreamlight fell, forming a thirty-meter-tall dream statue, white as jade, mirroring his current form.
"First Commandment: Do not take my name in vain."
"Second Commandment: Have no other gods."
"Third Commandment: Love your kin as you love me."
"Fourth Commandment: Do not commit adultery or plunder."
"Fifth Commandment: Do not kill the innocent."
"Sixth Commandment: Serve me with heart, not sacrifices."
"…"
"My followers shall receive the grace of dreams."
Truman turned the Book of Dreams to the "Dream" page, infusing the statue with a mystical force.
"Weave dreamscapes? Let them decide." He crafted a divine amusement park akin to the Dream Heaven but left the choice to followers.
Truly devout followers could choose: weave a beautiful dream or enter the divine park.
After the dream, they'd gain true tranquility, soothing mind and characteristics.
In theory, dream followers wouldn't lose control before demigod, and demigods would gain dream tranquility.
"Perhaps in centuries or millennia, the Dream could become a secret organization?" Truman looked forward to the future.
"This place is arranged for you. Stay here—it won't leak to the Spirit World, and it suits your acting."
Lilith, regressed to a Sanguine, needed to find humanity and practice the acting method.
"Fine," Lilith nodded, eyeing the towering statue and the tens of thousands worshipping below. "Must I believe in you?"
"Believe in me?" Truman was stunned.
"Faith is a form of humanity," Lilith said seriously, seeking to understand humanity through similar acts.
"It's hard," Truman said bluntly. "If you can't shift your mindset from ancient god to your current Vampire state, your gaze remains lofty, unable to grasp true humanity."
"It's Sanguine!" Lilith stressed, but Truman's words made her frown, deep in thought.
"Take your time. You have plenty," Truman said. The Ancient Sun God's move against the Giant King would trigger the goddess' and his prior arrangements.
"Fine," Lilith quieted, gazing silently at the devout followers.
(End of Chapter)