The dreamscape.
Arguably the most wonderful place in the world.
Because once you entered here, the chaos and clamor of the outside world no longer had anything to do with you.
You could switch directly into slacker mode.
But for Durandal, the so-called dreamscape was also an excellent training ground.
Within her dream, the beautiful, golden-haired young woman stared grimly at the colossal Honkai Mantis before her.
The mantis, one of nature’s most perfect hunters.
Its neck could rotate 180 degrees, ensuring the flexibility of its body’s movements.
Its eyes were very similar to human eyes, capable of three-dimensional vision, allowing it to accurately pinpoint its prey’s location in two-tenths of a second.
Its body structure was also quite perfect; if a mantis were the size of a human, it could lift an object weighing 2000 pounds.
In reality, of course, such a terrifying creature did not exist.
But in a dream, it was a different story.
“Its body should be as tough as Soulium.
It can utilize Honkai energy to a certain degree.
Its nerve reflexes are faster than mine, and its strength is greater…”
The young woman named Durandal added a new set of parameters to the mantis before her.
Once all the settings were complete, the mantis came to life.
It shrieked like a primeval beast, its shrill cry triggering an earthquake.
In the next instant, it transformed into a jet-black shadow, flashing behind the Dull Goose and striking straight for her heart!
Durandal instinctively swung her lance, but in the next moment, an immense force shot through the weapon, brutally blasting her a hundred meters away!
In the following instant, it was as if the world’s pause button had been pressed.
All motion ceased.
“I see.
An opponent who is faster than me and possesses spatial movement abilities holds this much of an advantage?” The master of the dream picked herself up from the ground, her expression grave.
“I’ll have to add more danger perception to my training regimen.”
Because she had been called “Dudu” (British slang for an idiot) by her classmates and teachers since she was a child, Durandal had always aimed to become truly the “strongest,” even “invincible.”
Because aside from fighting, she knew nothing else.
After reflecting on why she had been sent flying, she once again raised her lance, preparing to face the trial of the Judgement-class mantis once more.
Clap, clap—
For some reason.
From the far reaches of the dreamscape, the sound of applause suddenly echoed.
Durandal froze.
For a monstrous genius like her, the dreamscape was a domain she could completely control.
Theoretically, unless she completely relaxed her guard, the dream would only ever contain what she wanted to see. Enjoying the story? Read on at g.com.
Did I schedule someone to clap here?
The young woman was deeply perplexed.
During her moment of confusion, a figure emerged from the distance, growing clearer as it approached.
It was a handsome individual.
His face was fair and smooth, with sharp, well-defined features.
His eyes were the color of ice, like glaciers.
Who was this?
Durandal’s expression instantly turned cold.
Although she didn’t know what was happening, the man before her had clearly invaded her dream.
“State your purpose.”
A lance had appeared in the hands of the never-defeated young woman at some unknown point.
If this man was deemed an enemy, this lance would pin him alive high in the air.
Then, the strongest Goose would awaken and hunt him down relentlessly in the real world.
“Abyss Flower.
It’s been a long time.”
But unexpectedly, upon seeing the lance, the young man’s face was filled with nostalgia.
“Would you mind letting me see Abyss Flower?
Even if it’s just a projection in a dream, it still allows me to reminisce about an old friend.”
An old friend?
Durandal was taken aback.
Abyss Flower.
The weapon of the previous strongest Valkyrie of Schicksal, Cecilia Schariac.
Durandal had always admired the woman who had sacrificed her life to purify the Honkai in Siberia.
Did the man before her know that senior?
“What is your relationship with Senior Cecilia?”
Perhaps it was a case of love for the person extending to those associated with them, but Durandal found herself using honorifics when addressing Russell.
“You call Cecilia ‘senior’?” The young man was visibly stunned.
Then, he scrutinized Durandal’s face, his gaze sharp and precise, like some kind of microscope.
After several seconds of observation, a hint of displeasure appeared on the man’s face.
“Is there a problem with that title?” Durandal sensed a very unusual undercurrent.
“Who is the current head of the Schariac house?” The man did not answer her question, instead inquiring about one of Schicksal’s great families.
Honestly, when faced with a question that touched upon Schicksal’s internal structure, Durandal should have remained silent.
After all, the man opposite her had yet to reveal his identity.
Even if he wasn’t lying, he was at best an old friend of a senior.
But the man’s words always carried an extraordinary air, as if he had come from another layer of history.
“It is Angellia Schariac, the younger sister of the previous Holy Maiden.” Durandal fell silent for a moment before giving her answer. Follow the newest chapters on g.com.
“When you get the chance, take a drop of her blood, and a drop of your own.
Bring them to a laboratory you control and run a genetic comparison.” The man paused for a moment, then sighed.
“Sister…”
A tempest.
An utterly unexpected tempest crashed through Durandal’s heart.
Durandal was an orphan.
This was something everyone in Schicksal knew.
And now, this man, after carefully observing her face, was telling her to get a DNA test with the head of the Schariac house.
Did that mean…
she was actually a member of the Schariac family?
That she wasn’t an orphan?
Even for the strongest Valkyrie of Schicksal, under the shock of such news, her heart felt as if it would explode from its frantic beating.
Otto had never mentioned family to her.
Family, the doctor, lost memories…
She was horrified to realize that her identity might be exceedingly complex.
“I don’t know what Bishop Medea told you, but you are indeed a daughter of the Schariac house,” the young man said after a moment of silence.
He calls the Overseer ‘Medea’?
Durandal remembered.
On the first day she awoke, the Overseer had told her the story of Jason and Medea, telling her that if she ever witnessed a similar situation in reality, she should not sympathize with the princess.
Had he heard that story too?
Did that mean this man knew the Overseer, and perhaps knew him well?
Wait, if the “Medea” in that story was an allusion to the Overseer, did that mean the Overseer’s message was to absolutely never pity him?
Why would he give her such a warning?
Through just a few short sentences, a deluge of information flooded Durandal’s mind.
This young woman, so invincible on the battlefield, now felt a piercing throb in her head.
Across from her, the young-looking man simply watched her, his gaze filled with sorrow.
What was he sad for?
For her?
Or for the Schariac family?
Or perhaps—for Cecilia?
“Who are you?”
Durandal could no longer suppress the doubt in her heart and demanded an answer.