Ed looked up and stared blankly at the huge full moon in the dark sky.

The moonlight was cold and pale, and the temperature that was enough to freeze his soul made him tremble uncontrollably, but it seemed that cold sweat kept oozing from the roots of his hair, crawling down his back and chest along his neck, leaving traces that were cold and painful, as if he had been slowly pulled out one wound after another by a sharp dagger, but the blood was frozen into ice in the moment it gushed out.

It was a dream—he told himself in despair, over and over again, but he didn't know how he had fallen into such a dream, let alone how to escape.

He was even awake, aware that he was in a dream...... Or maybe the nightmare has finally become a reality.

He could only stare at the moon desperately...... Even if you know it's not the moon at all.

It was a huge golden eye, with black pupils shrunk into a thin one, like a gap to another world, looking down at him indifferently.

He was creepy, but he couldn't take his eyes off it.

He had dreamed of this scene more than once...... In his dreams, there were only endless bones under his feet. But at this moment, what made him stand there stiff, unable to move a single step, was something more terrible than white bones.

If you don't look at them, you can treat them as if they don't exist. If you don't think about it...... He couldn't help but think about it.

“...... Ed...... Ed. ”

A call familiar and unfamiliar sounded like the wind sweeping across the wilderness, pulling Ed's gaze off the sky and blankly casting it ahead.

Norvi Sunstrider, his elven friend he hadn't seen in a long time stood in front of him. Blonde hair in a shawl, green eyes like deep green leaves in the sun...... There was no familiar smile on his face.

“...... You're not him. Ed heard his own contorted hoarse voice.

Even with the exact same face, he could tell the difference. That's not Novi at all.

Norvi's eyes were always calm and full of life, not like the elf in front of him, young and old, transparent as a crystal clear stream, and as dry as the wilderness of time.

Three hundred years is not enough time for an elf who is curious about everything in the world to have such eyes.

"Norvi" stood there motionless. stared at him for a long time, not responding to his questioning.

"You need to get out of here. He said.

"Who the hell are you?" Ed asked stubbornly, glaring at him. He had enough of such "revelations...... He didn't want to be at the mercy of any one kind of force anymore.

The elf was silent for a long time. His lips were always closed. Ed, however, could hear his voice, like the murmuring of water as the snow melted, flowing into his heart clearly.

"They call me the 'Light of the North,' when my white walls reflect the sun's rays like snow. ”

“...... Miaz Weiss. Ed whispered his real name. Strangely not surprised. If a castle that has stood for hundreds of years already has its own memory. Why can't a city that has gone through thousands of years have a soul of its own?

"You need to get out of here. The elf repeated again.

“...... I can't. Ed replied desperately, "I can't...... They wouldn't let me go. ”

Something seemed to tighten violently on the calf. Ed was shocked and involuntarily lowered his head.

One bony hand after another was tightly wrapped around his legs, and he could tell from each seemingly indistinguishable, pale and withered face what they were.

He recognized Hatta, the goblin's tiny face crumpled as if it were convulsing its last breath, its unfocused round eyes filled with resentment and fear. Staring straight at him, he recognized the young man he never mentioned but never could forget, not even the name of the necromancer who died under his sword in a cavern in the ice field. The first life he had taken, his blood once splashing hot on his hands...... He recognized Tim, the priest who had fallen in the gray fog of Mayday, Rowell, Browder, the clergy who had disappeared into the fog of the Temple of Collins, Belin, Sercio, who he could not rescue......

He recognized Valla.

Blood and resentment distorted her once-soft and delicate face, and her empty eyes seemed to silently reproach him for weakness and incompetence—he had failed to avenge her, he had spared the mad king and left her to die innocently......

The bones pierced into his legs, and he could clearly feel the sharp pain, but he still couldn't wake up.

This is not a dream.

“...... Help me!" Ed begged to reach out to the elf, "Let me get out of here!"

"I can't do it. The elf looked at him sadly, "I don't have that power—it's a dream you've woven yourself, a world you've created, Ed Singall...... Only you can save yourself. ”

Ed still stiffly held out his hand to him, and it took a few moments before he hung limply.

Dream...... How could this be just a dream?

This is where he ends, the grave of his soul, where his mistakes and his useless remorse will bury him......

"I'm sorry......" he sobbed, feeling the tears slip down his cheeks coldly in his dreams, repeating desperately one after another, "I'm sorry......"

- But if you stay here forever, you may only be able to say more 'sorry' to more people.

It seemed a long, long time ago, in another, much more beautiful dream, someone who sighed softly and told him so.

Ed blinked, and in his blurred vision, there was a faint hint of hope on Sersio's pale little face that he would not give up.

- He hasn't rescued him yet.

Ed jerked his head up, the back of his head slamming against the stone pillar.

The muffled sound, rather than the dull pain that followed, made him truly sober up, and for a brief moment he struggled to remember why he had sat under the pillars outside his room, facing the dark backyard in the night.

There was silence, not a single human voice, and no guards who would normally patrol the corridors.

Ed cautiously poked his head out from behind the pillar, looked in both directions, and jumped to his feet when he spotted the two guards lying on the ground, rushing over to test their breath in a panic.

Ed could be sure they were alive before he could feel their breath - they were just in a dream, their eyes moving rapidly under their eyelids, but their expressions were calm.

- May they have a good dream.

Ed breathed a sigh of relief, calmed down, and touched the dagger that he habitually stuck in his boots. The little weapon was generously given to him by Yachem to be pressed under his pillow to "drive away the nightmare...... At this point, it's clearly of little use.

There was another thing hidden under the thick coat.

Ed pulled out a black cloth bag and hesitated for a moment before pulling out the contents.

Lying in the palm of his hand was a translucent, gray-white stone, the size of a fist, with tiny cracks like cotton wool...... And when he got it a few days ago, it was still a dazzling gem as clear and dazzling as a star plucked from the sky.

Ed stood up, looked left and right, ran to the well that had just been dug, and threw the stone into it, pondering for a moment, and finding another small stone—the broken stone that the snowy owl had thrown at his feet.

He thought that this might be the reason why the "elf" with the face of Norvi appeared in his dream, but he couldn't be sure.

He solemnly hid the dusty rubble, then turned back into the corridor and walked carefully to the main hall.

If his guess was right, it would have been only Joan and Oylan who had entered the temple...... The starry sky inlaid with "glass" in the dome of the main hall and the unfinished altar should be of greatest interest to them.

Along the way, he discovers more people who have fallen to the ground, and Ed uneasily confirms that everyone is just captured by dreams, and has mixed feelings.

He had never thought of being a priesthood...... One day, he would learn from a necromancer how to use spells in another way.

Soul-controlling spells were not created by necromancers, something Ed had learned from Norway before he became a priest. The priest who can pacify and dispel the ghosts is the creator of this type of spell, and the necromancer uses another power to make it stained with darkness and use it without hesitation.

If Oylan asked for his help in the danger of harming anyone in the temple, he would never say yes - after all, there were many people here who were apparently simply and passionately building and protecting the temple for the gods they believed in.

Oylan is well aware of this. What he taught Ed in a very short period of time was a spell that combined atonement and sleep emblem to theoretically deal no real damage.

That would even remove all the burdens of people's souls, leaving them as pure and immaculate as newborn babies before God...... If their gods could accept that their followers were purified by the Holy One of another deity.

Ed studied it over and over for days before he finally put it into action. But he still miscalculated Oylan's cunning—a spell that shouldn't have involved Ed himself.

There might be something wrong with the gem he "lent" to Ed to increase his strength...... Maybe it shouldn't have been thrown away so early.

Ed couldn't help but regret it a little, but perhaps what he should be more worried about was ...... Why would Jay Oylan, a necromancer, be so familiar with the priest's spells?

That can no longer be explained by a simple "need to know your enemies". Unlike a warrior who wields a sword, he is unlikely to know so much about wielding another power if he has not actually used it himself......

Ed stopped abruptly, all the questions that were running through his mind were completely frozen in utter surprise when he saw the figure standing up slowly not far away.

It wasn't Hoan or Oylan...... It's Rye.

(To be continued......)