Ch.177Beyond the Dream (5)

Steward. Llewellyn thought it was a term he had heard somewhere before.

It was clear that he didn’t know the exact meaning. It made sense that Llewellyn wouldn’t know. It wasn’t commonly used in Korea.

But that didn’t mean Llewellyn was foolish enough not to understand who it referred to.

Whatever position a steward held, it was obvious who they were mistaking him for, given that they addressed him that way.

Llewellyn looked at Renia… or more precisely, at whatever was occupying Renia’s body.

It wasn’t a Transcendent. What he felt from the body was intense divinity.

Llewellyn observed the deity that had taken over Renia’s body while sensing that divinity.

“Was it you who stopped time?”

When he asked, no answer came. Instead, what returned was an expression of bewilderment and confusion.

The deity occupying Renia blinked for a moment before speaking.

“Steward, how much you’ve changed. Not a trace of courtesy toward a god…”

The deity stopped mid-sentence. She blankly raised her eyes to look at the ceiling.

Perhaps because the Transcendent had broken through it, the ceiling of the cavern extended all the way to the sky.

It was a night sky. Stars were scattered across it, and even moonlight slanted in.

Llewellyn followed the deity’s gaze upward and let out a long breath at the night sky before him.

Winter was coming to an end. The breath he exhaled no longer turned white.

“The Great Ascension has failed, then.”

Despite saying they would come for him. The deity let out a hollow laugh, then shook her head and looked at Llewellyn.

“Who are you?”

The breath she exhaled lacked the distinctive trace of life. The deity knew this.

The divinity residing in that body, that great power was very familiar, but the soul was unfamiliar.

The way of speaking was unfamiliar, and so was the attitude. The deity noticed and asked.

“You clearly possess the divinity of the Steward… yet somehow you are not the Steward. Neither are you the Steward’s vessel, nor their avatar.”

Llewellyn quietly listened to the deity’s words. He needed to understand what she was saying before he could respond.

“But you’re not entirely unrelated. Who exactly are you?”

Steward. Llewellyn vaguely interpreted the word itself.

He thought that if the status window had translated it correctly, the meaning would be the same, and his guess was accurate.

A steward is one who listens to requests.

And if the deity before him called someone a steward, then whether on the human side or the divine side, it would be someone tasked with hearing and conveying requests closely related to divinity.

As far as Llewellyn knew, there was only one being who could claim to have such a role.

The being called ‘Father.’

The guardian of the pantheon who had become a Transcendent.

The deity before him faced Llewellyn with eyes tinged with fear and resignation.

“I am Llewellyn.”

The deity focused on Llewellyn’s words.

“The last god born to this land.”

At these words that followed, the deity could not help but sigh.

*

The deity asked for time to compose herself and closed her eyes.

Since time was still frozen, Llewellyn agreed and looked around.

Fortunately, it seemed no one was hurt.

Llewellyn and Lucilla could regenerate even if injured, so it didn’t matter, and Ortemilia had already secured a safe distance, so that was to be expected.

It was quite fortunate that none of the soldiers were injured either.

The same went for the infected who had been pouring in through the passage leading to the sewers.

The most fortunate thing of all, at least for Llewellyn, was that Lucilla was unharmed.

Llewellyn circled around his sister, confirming that her physical condition was fine, and sighed in relief. The deity, who seemed to have gathered her thoughts while pinned to the wall by a massive spear, spoke.

“First, putting everything else aside… there’s one thing I must say.”

The deity, with her upper arm pinned by the spear, bowed her head as much as she could.

“Thank you. For chasing away that monster.”

Then the deity let out a deep sigh and continued.

“Thanks to you, whatever happens… at least I can do something now.”

A vague expression. Llewellyn listened blankly for a moment before abruptly speaking.

“What exactly happened here?”

It was already difficult to understand the situation.

Why was a Transcendent here, why was Renia here, and why was a deity residing in Renia’s body?

Whether Renia had been a deity from the beginning.

All of these were questions. The deity read Llewellyn’s confusion.

“Was it you who called me?”

Llewellyn recalled what had happened at the brothel.

Following Renia, reaching the cavern under her guidance.

The horrific sight he witnessed there. Llewellyn had seriously considered it as something guiding and calling him.

“Not exactly calling you, but partially, yes, I suppose.”

The deity occupying Renia’s body partially affirmed.

“Partially?”

“It would be more accurate to say that anyone would have been fine.”

The deity sighed, still pinned to the wall by the spear. It was a precise imitation of human behavior, despite not needing to breathe.

“Anyone who could remove the seal embedded in that monster’s body and drive it away would have been welcome. Though it wasn’t intentional…”

A strange statement. Llewellyn frowned, and seeing this, the deity said:

“Do you know who I am, Steward?”

“I am not the Steward, and as for who you are…”

“I am the Master of Sleep.”

Llewellyn closed his mouth, and she continued.

“I am the Husband of Night, and the Teacher whom humans face every night.”

The expression felt familiar. It was similar to what the Craftsman’s God had once said.

The deity continued speaking.

“I am Serenity, Hope, and the Imagination with which humans envision the future. Do you know my name?”

“…Dream.”

At that, the male deity wearing the mask of a woman smiled with satisfaction.

Llewellyn wore a bewildered expression, and the God of Dreams let out another sigh, close to lamentation.

“My consciousness was deep in dreams until the moment you drove away the monster. My divinity manifesting in ways I did not intend, trying to achieve my desires… it was unavoidable.”

“…Are you saying you have no responsibility?”

“Of course not. I bear responsibility. However, had I been awake, such things would not have happened. That’s why I’m expressing gratitude. Thank you for preventing me from bearing more responsibility and repeating my mistakes.”

Despite Llewellyn’s dubious expression, the God of Dreams bowed deeply, and Llewellyn wore a puzzled look.

“So what exactly happened?”

The deity’s words didn’t explain much.

Quite the opposite, in fact, and the God of Dreams was well aware of this.

So she proposed:

“Of course, I could explain everything and solve all the riddles. But I can’t just give it away for free.”

“Even though I helped you?”

“Even taking that into account, yes. But it won’t be a difficult proposal, so hear me out.”

To Llewellyn, who frowned with displeasure, the God of Dreams smiled.

“Free me from these shackles, from this seal.”

The deity, unable to move even slightly, gestured with her eyes.

“Then I will tell you everything you wanted to know.”

And then she fell silent. Llewellyn looked at the deity for a moment, considering.

In fact, thinking about it, it was a request he didn’t necessarily have to grant.

The Empress seemed to know a lot, and even his sister Lucilla appeared to know something.

Since some deities, like the Craftsman’s God and the God of Dreams, seemed capable of conversation, there appeared to be plenty of ways to extract information.

So there wouldn’t be a problem if he didn’t grant this request.

As the Empress had said, ‘devouring’ to steal divinity also seemed like a good option.

But that was a conclusion drawn from the realm of reason. Emotionally, Llewellyn felt a reluctance to go that far.

The Empress couldn’t be trusted, and he rather wanted to avoid her as dangerous.

Llewellyn pondered for a moment, looking at the massive spear pinning Renia’s body to the wall.

“The method?”

“Hmm?”

“The method to free you, can I choose it freely?”

That massive spear cannot be pulled out. It was intuition, but Llewellyn’s intuition was already at a level almost equivalent to reading fate, so it was certain.

He also thought that if it were something that could be pulled out, the deity would have done so herself. Perhaps pulling it out would mean taking her place instead.

That’s how dense and intense the magical power residing in that spear was.

He could also faintly sense divinity. He felt that it shouldn’t be carelessly removed.

So Llewellyn pondered, and after consideration, he recalled a game he had once seen someone play in a video.

It was a game featuring the God of War.

That God of War had rescued a wise character bound in a similar way using a very direct method…

Llewellyn thought that method wouldn’t cause any problems.

“Well, pulling out the spear would be better, but whatever works…”

The God of Dreams smiled awkwardly. Llewellyn looked at her for a moment before approaching.

“You’re fine despite having your heart pierced, and you don’t breathe or have a heartbeat, so it’s pretty clear, but just to be sure…”

“What is it?”

“Would you die if your head were cut off?”

The God of Dreams stiffened with a start. Llewellyn could already see the answer in that expression.

‘Good, so she won’t die. Only homunculi die when their heads are cut off.’

Llewellyn raised his new greatsword, Starcluster, and aimed.

“W-wait! What are you—!”

The blade accelerated. He lightly twisted his waist, transferring the power that started from his waist up through his spine to his shoulders and then to his wrists.

The sword was surprisingly light yet fast and powerful. He could feel that power from the hilt made of light and line segments.

A feeling that it could cut through anything.

That feeling surged forward, drawing a long line.

Slash!

With a clean straight line, he cut through the God of Dreams along with the pillar where the massive spear was embedded.

Rumble rumble rumble… Boom!

The severed pillar slid down and collapsed to the floor, raising a cloud of dust.

Llewellyn picked up the God of Dreams, or more precisely, a part of her.

Specifically, Renia’s face, contorted with displeasure.

“You certainly are not the Steward. How utterly barbaric.”

“Why, thank you.”

Llewellyn smiled with satisfaction.

Since ancient times, being called a complete bastard could be considered high praise.

Llewellyn met the eyes of the severed head and said:

“Now, I’ve granted your request, so you need to spill everything you know.”

The God of Dreams clicked her tongue softly and began to reveal.

Secrets that no one else in this world but he could explain.