Chapter 1315: First Direct Contact

If the Western Front plan had gone as intended, the Red Mist would already have spilled over the continental ridge and spread into human territory by now.

That would have made the Birth Tower in the great rupture an open secret. However slow the enemy was, they would have reacted by this point. So why was Hackzord still doing nothing? Could the humans truly be so weak that he faced them all alone?

When she considered it, Valkries found that unlikely. If their enemy were that helpless, Ursrook would never have been defeated on the Fertile Plains.

She knew perfectly well that being separated from reality for this long had eroded her ability to judge the situation accurately. The uncertainty gnawed at her in a way she had no name for and no solution to.

There was also that human.

She glanced across the battle ring. Roland was standing beside two women, watching the competition with evident amusement.

Damn him. Didn’t he have better things to do?

If he knew of any way out of this place, he might be her only chance. He was clearly the one carrying human legacies and knowledge out of this world—he had to have some channel of communication with the outside, some passage she could use. In the King’s Presiding Holy See, she had often sensed the King’s communication with his territory; it was precisely that ability which had allowed her to follow the fluctuations of the legacy shard’s power and enter the Realm of Mind to find Roland’s trail in the first place.

Yet in four months, he had not once ceased to be active in this world. There had not been a single moment when any passage was open for her to seize.

Could it be that human monarchs were so free of obligation that they could ignore their kingdom’s business for months at a stretch, spending their time instead on a Martial Arts Contest rather than reading even a few more books? The only reasonable explanation was that the demons’ frontline was not pressing the humans hard enough.

Which meant this, too, was Hackzord’s fault.

In the midst of that simmering mood, Valkries noticed Roland detach himself from the two women and walk alone toward a corner of the arena. A hooded woman was standing there, positioned as though she had been waiting deliberately.

Valkries moved away from the crowd with no apparent urgency, but her eyes did not leave Roland for a moment.

They exchanged a few words. The hooded woman pointed toward the exit. Roland appeared to hesitate, then nodded.

Had the Association noticed something?

She had already resolved to stop—to hold her position and wait—but something from the hooded woman’s presence tugged at a recognition she could not name. The sensation made her close the distance carefully, angling for a better view.

One glance was enough. Under the dim light, she saw a face that resembled Heathtalese.

Or—Lan. From the Martialist Association.

Transformer had been in this world all along?

And perhaps Transformer was the reason Roland could appear here as a male?

The implications were too large to process standing still. Valkries abandoned restraint and followed them.

Roland and the woman she suspected of being Transformer did not head for the arena’s exterior after passing through the exit corridor. Instead they turned and descended into an underground parking structure. The Nightmare Lord adjusted her pace to maintain distance, keeping her footsteps as quiet as she could, and followed them into a civil air defense passageway.

She discovered quickly that the passage was barely more than ten meters long, with no branches or turns. It ended in a sealed cement wall, on which a sign read: No Entry. Construction Incomplete. A dead end, in every visible sense.

Except that both of them had vanished.

A trap.

The realization hit before she could stop herself from stepping fully inside.

Before she could turn to retreat, Roland was already standing behind her, calm and unhurried, filling the only route of escape. Several women flanked him. From the way their abilities worked—fundamentally different from any martial artist’s natural power—she did not need to guess twice.

They were witches.

She understood now where the sense of familiarity had come from. That small but distinctive difference between magic power and natural ability—she had been detecting it and dismissing it for four months. If witches could enter the Realm of Mind while retaining the full use of their abilities, her exposure had only ever been a matter of time.

And if Roland could arrange this many people in ambush without her noticing, then watching her, studying her movements, learning her habits—all of that would have been trivial by comparison. She had directed all her effort at her surface behavior, her interactions with other martial artists. Against witches with abilities she hadn’t accounted for, that effort had been worthless. It was likely they had seen through her long ago.

“We meet again, Miss Valkries,” Roland said.

Valkries said nothing.

Anything she said now would only diminish her. Even if she still didn’t understand how he had gotten witches into this realm, that question was no longer relevant.

He had chosen this secluded place deliberately and closed off her only exit. His purpose was self-evident.

The only remaining option was to die in battle.

The Nightmare Lord gathered all the magic in her body and shifted her weight slightly forward. Against a group of witches, with no God’s Stone and no Magic Slayer power, she held no realistic hope of winning. But surrender was not a possibility she was willing to consider.

“Could I invite you to have some Cargarde Peninsula coffee?”

Valkries froze with one foot still raised.

Her upper body remained tilted forward, caught at an awkward angle between motion and stillness. “What… did you say?”

“I want to treat you to coffee.” Roland repeated it without any trace of humor. “It wouldn’t be the real thing, but there’s a drink here that is quite similar.”

She stared at him for a long moment before she trusted herself to speak. ”…Why?”

She could not begin to understand what this man was thinking. Whatever the Realm of Mind suggested about coexistence, the reality outside was something else entirely. He had confirmed her origins; there was no logic in letting her go free. If death was not her answer, then what awaited her was something worse.

“Because some things are better brought into the open than kept hidden,” Roland said. “Especially when the Battle of Divine Will is not the Final Battle yet.”

The Battle of Divine Will is not the Final Battle yet.

She had not expected to hear that from a human. Not in those words.

It was a long silence before she recovered enough composure to speak. “Where do you want to have this conversation?”

“Not far. A few minutes from here.” He snapped his fingers, and the sound of a car engine rose from behind him. “Get in. I’ve already reserved a table.”

He had not lied about the distance.

The restaurant he had chosen occupied a high floor in a glass-sided building. The table faced the full span of floor-to-ceiling windows, and beyond the glass the snow-covered skyline stretched away in every direction. Quiet music moved through the room. The atmosphere was unhurried, deliberate, entirely at odds with what had just occurred.

Valkries understood the choice. A venue like this was his way of demonstrating sincerity—if he had wanted her dead, a public restaurant was not where he would have brought her. She inhaled slowly as she sat down, conscious of the witches positioned at various points around the room with their attention fixed precisely on her.

“Why not simply ask to meet me here directly?”

“That would have been a waste of time. I didn’t think you would agree without some encouragement—it’s easy to refuse or evade when you aren’t cornered, so it’s much simpler this way.” Roland shrugged. “Now that we’ve reached a working understanding, let’s move to the point quickly. Honesty benefits both of us. I am Roland Wimbledon, King of Graycastle and one of the creators of the Dream World. And you?”

One of the creators. Even having already suspected he was no ordinary visitor, the specific claim startled her. She had never heard of a domain in the Realm of Mind being created by multiple people. It might explain why he could not exercise complete control over this realm the way the demon king controlled his—but it raised questions she pressed herself not to ask aloud.

“Valkries. That is my name.”

“And your title? Your rank? Something like ‘Sky Lord,’ for instance—could you be specific?”

A brief pause. “Nightmare Lord. That is what I am called.”

Roland choked on his drink.

Chapter 1315 - First Direct Contact

Translator: Henyee Translations Editor: Henyee Translations If the Western Front plan was successful, the Red Mist should have already spilled over the ridge of the continent and spread through the territory of the humans. This meant that the Birth Tower in the great rupture was no longer a secret. No matter how slow the opponent was, they would have reacted already. So why was Hackzord still not doing anything? Could it be that the humans were so weak that he could face them all by himself? However, when she thought about it, Valkries found it unlikely. If their enemy were as frail as that, Ursrook wouldn’t have been defeated on the Fertile Plains. She knew very clearly that having been separated from reality for too long, it had caused her to lose her ability to judge the current situation. This feeling made the Nightmare Lord feel extremely uneasy. There was also that human… She looked over to the other side of the battle ring and saw that Roland was standing beside two females, showing much amusement and interest in the competition. Damn him! Didn’t he have better things to do? If he knew how a way out, then he might just be her only chance—he was definitely the one taking the legacies and knowledge of humans out of this world; he must have some sort of passage to communicate with the outside world. As long as he left the Realm of Mind, she would have a chance to grab that opportunity, after all, in the King’s Presiding Holy See, she had often sensed the King’s communication with the territory. It was because she had such an ability that she dared to follow the fluctuations of the legacy shard’s power and enter the Realm of Mind to find Roland’s trail. Yet, he had always remained active in this world and there was absolutely not a moment when he could have done anything. Could it be that human monarchs have so much free time that they still didn’t need to do anything to manage their kingdoms’ matters even after several months? They would rather waste their time on a meaningless Martial Arts Contest than spend time reading a few more books. The only explanation was that the demons’ frontline was not giving the humans enough pressure. So this is still all Hackzord’s fault! In the midst of her mood swings, Valkries suddenly noticed Roland leaving the two females and walking to a corner by himself. Standing there was a hooded female as though she had been intentionally waiting for him. Valkries pretended to casually walk out of the crowd, but her eyes never left Roland. They discussed a few words before the female pointed in the direction of the exit. Roland appeared a little hesitant but nodded in the end. Had the Association noticed something? Valkries had originally decided to stop once and for all, but for some reason she felt a familiar aura from the female. This odd feeling prompted her to walk a few steps closer, so as to sneak at peek at them from a closer distance. Just with this one glance, Valkries felt all her hair stand—under the dim light, she saw a face similar to to that of Heathtalese, or… Lan, from the Martialist Association! Could it be that Transformer had always been hidden in this world? And the reason that Roland could appear as a male in this world was also because of her? This news was too shocking. Valkries could no longer hold back the impulse in her heart and quickly followed them. Roland and the person that Valkries suspected to be Transformer didn’t walk in the direction of the arena’s exterior after passing through the exit passageway; instead, they turned and entered an underground parking lot. The Nightmare Lord tried to make her footsteps as light as possible and kept a fair distance between them until they entered a civil air defense passageway. As Valkries tailed after them, she discovered that the passageway was only a bit over ten meters long and didn’t have any forks at all. On the other end of the passage was a sealed cement wall. There was even a “No Entry. Construction Incomplete” warning sign hung up on the wall. Even though it was a dead end, the two had vanished. Oh no, it’s a trap! Valkries reacted instantly but it was already too late. Before she could turn and retreat, Roland was already calmly standing behind her, blocking her only route of escape. Standing beside him were several females. From how they used their abilities, which was polar opposite to martial artists, Valkries didn’t even need luck to guess. Unquestionably, the females standing beside him were witches. She finally realized where that feeling of familiarity came from. That was the miniscule difference between magic power and natural ability. If witches could enter the Realm of the Mind as well as possess their original strength at the same time, then the exposure of her identity would have occurred sooner or later. After all, Roland could surreptitiously conceal this many people to set up an ambush. That meant infiltrating her surroundings and observing her would be trivial—the reason was easy to understand if one thought about it. She focused all of her disguise on her superficial interactions. But against witches who had uncanny abilities, her guise would have been a joke. It was likely that her movements had already been seen through by the witches in the past four months. “We meet once more, Miss Valkries,” Roland said serenely. Valkries didn’t respond. Saying anything at this time would only bring humiliation to herself. Even if she still didn’t understand how he could get the witches to enter this realm, it was no longer important. He had intentionally set an ambush in this secluded place. His goal was self- evident. The only thing she could do now was die in battle. The Nightmare Lord summoned all the magic power in her body and slightly leaned her body forward. In this situation where she was fighting against a group of witches without a magic stone or Magic Slayer power, she didn’t even consider the possibility of winning. It was impossible for her to surrender no matter what! “Could I invite you to drink some Cargarde Peninsula coffee?” Roland spoke once more. “—” Valkries came to a halt with her foot out. She stood frozen in her spot, her upper body still maintaining a slightly forward-leaning posture. The way she stopped herself seemed overly stiff. “What… did you say?” “I want to treat you to coffee,” Roland repeated himself. “Although it wouldn’t count as real coffee, it’s a special drink that is very similar.” Valkries stared at him for a long time before voicing the confusion in her heart. “… Why?” She couldn’t guess what this male was thinking at all—reality was different to this place, the coexistence of her race and humans was an imagined illusion. Since he had already confirmed her true origins, it wouldn’t make sense to let her off. If she was not going to be greeted by death, then it would only be an outcome worse than death. “Because some things are better laid out in the open than hidden,” Roland said slowly, “especially when the ‘Battle of Divine Will’ is not the ‘Final Battle’ yet.” The ‘Battle of Divine Will’… is not the ‘Final Battle’ yet… Valkries couldn’t help but be surprised. She never would have thought that she would hear something like this from a human. It was only after a long period of silence that she regained her wary composure. “Where do you want to have the talk?” “Not far from here, only a few minutes away.” Roland snapped his fingers, the sound of a car engine came from behind him. “Board the car, I’ve already booked a table.” … Roland didn’t lie to her. The location he chose was a high-class restaurant situated inside a high-rise building. Sitting in front of the floor to ceiling glass windows, she could see the snow covered urban skyline. Soothing music filled the restaurant and the atmosphere was peaceful and elegant. Valkries knew that choosing this place to discuss was Roland’s way of expressing his sincerity—if he had wanted to kill her, a public setting like this was certainly not a suitable execution ground. Noticing the group of witches who were staring intently at them, she inhaled deeply after sitting down. “Why didn’t you just ask to meet me here directly?” “That would waste too much time, I didn’t think you would agree straight away—when not being cornered, it’s easy for people to refuse and avoid, so it’s much easier to do it this way.” Roland shrugged. “Since we’ve already reached an initial understanding, then let’s get to our main point of discussion quickly. Honesty would benefit both of us. I am Roland Wimbledon, the King of Graycastle and one of the creators of the Dream World. You are?” One of… the creators? Although she had already guessed that he wasn’t a simple visitor, his identity shocked Valkries greatly. This was her first time hearing that a territory in the Realm of Mind could be created by multiple people. But this may be why he couldn’t take complete control of this domain like the demon king could. Suppressing her impulse to ask who the others were, the Nightmare Lord slowly replied, “Valkries. That’s my name.” “How about your title and rank? Like “Sky Lord” for example… could you be more specific?” She paused for a moment. “Nightmare Lord, that is what I’m called.” Roland spat out his drink. This time it was Roland’s turn to be shocked.