A full week had passed since Aiden’s arrival in the Dream Realm.
An entire week spent suspended five meters above the forest floor, clamped firmly in the jaws of a predatory tree.
It had been an agonizing test of endurance.
Going seven days without a single drop of water or a morsel of food should have been impossible for a human being.
Yet, surprisingly, Aiden felt as though he could endure even longer.
He couldn’t pinpoint the exact reason, but he suspected it was a passive benefit of being bound to the Nightmare Spell, or perhaps a lingering side effect of his Aspect, The Perfect Vessel.
In the dark silence of those endless nights, he had even caught himself wishing for a rescue.
At one point, he had dreamed that someone had stumbled into the clearing and cut him down.
The dream was so vivid he had almost believed it, right up until he realized his savior was Sunless, the scrawny, exhausted youth who sat at the bottom of the evaluation list.
The sheer absurdity of Sunless braving a forest filled with Nightmare Creatures brought Aiden back to reality.
Beyond his immediate prison, the mysterious phenomenon past the colossal wall continued every single night.
As soon as the sun dipped, the dark barrier echoed with the heavy, frantic sound of ocean waves crashing against stone.
By dawn, the sound vanished without a trace.
It suggested an extraordinary environmental anomaly beyond the rampart, but Aiden lacked the luxury to ponder ancient mysteries when his own survival hung by a thread.
If there was one saving grace, it was [Immortal Shell].
The armor’s regenerative mechanic had proved to be an ideal counter to the tree’s cyclic crushing attacks.
However, Aiden’s sharp mind had recently uncovered a fatal weakness in his defenses.
As the days wore on and the dark steel repeatedly repaired its surface, Aiden realized the armor wasn’t regenerating for free.
It was slowly drawing upon a subtle reserve of energy within his body a resource he couldn’t quite measure.
Because the tree’s attacks were steady rather than devastating, the drain was small, but it was relentless.
At this rate, whatever hidden reserve was fueling the armor’s self-repair would eventually run dry.
Aiden looked up through his visor toward the fading sky.
The sun was setting, its remaining light blocked out by the tangled, skeletal canopy above.
He knew he could survive another week of starvation, but his window for a physical breakout was rapidly closing.
Suddenly, the tree clamped down again.
Its branches constricted violently, attempting to crush his chest while Immortal Shell groaned under the pressure.
“Don’t you ever get tired, you damn plant?” Aiden muttered under his breath.
Unsurprisingly, the organism offered no reply, though its crushing pressure spiked higher than usual.
“Stupid,” Aiden gritted out, watching the micro-fractures form on his breastplate.
“You exert maximum force for five minutes, then rest for ten.
Pushing harder now just means you’ll exhaust yourself in two.”
As predicted, the tree maintained its frantic grip for a couple of minutes before its strength faltered, relaxing back into its holding pattern.
Aiden exhaled slowly, watching his armor hum as dark magic knit the cracks back together.
Around him, the surrounding forest was preparing for nightfall.
The neighboring pale trees loosened their branches, expanding their fibrous tendrils across the ground like a carpet of sleeping snakes.
They looked dormant, but Aiden knew better, the moment anything stepped onto those roots, the entire forest would snap shut like a giant steel trap.
“In a few minutes, the waves will start crashing behind the wall again,” Aiden muttered, leaning his head back against the bark.
“Hell…
I’m starting to lose my mind.”
Closing his eyes, he sighed.
He found his mind drifting back to his past life, a dangerous habit he had tried hard to suppress.
He wondered if his childhood friend Cassian had found peace in death or if his soul had been dragged into a new body in some distant universe.
He thought of his fallen empire, and the millions who had perished under his command.
‘Supreme Commander who never lost a war…
Supreme Commander of my ass,’
he mocked himself internally.
He slammed the door on those memories, forcing his focus back to the present.
For days, he had nothing to do but think, making it nearly impossible to keep the ghosts away.
‘Curse this world.
Why was I thrown into an insane realm like this?
Superhuman beings, monstrous entities…
all governed by a single entity: the Spell.’
Then, Aiden’s eyes snapped open beneath his visor.
His breath caught in his throat.
‘I’m an idiot.’
A sharp realization hit him like a physical blow.
He had been so focused on his sword and armor that he had completely forgotten about a valuable asset within his soul core, a Memory he had hesitated to use due to its unpredictable nature, but one that was now his sole path to freedom.
“[Wailing Mask],” he whispered.
It was merely a mask, but it was a Sacred-rank Memory possessing an active skill.
And right now, Aiden was willing to gamble everything on its power.