Facing an Ancient God for a Year
Chapter 1244 - 1242: The Way to Share Nightmares

Chapter 1244: Chapter 1242: The Way to Share Nightmares

Not only did he not seek to clear things up, but he even "requested" a favor.

Facing Amila’s earnest tone, Fu Qian once again marveled at the importance of maintaining one’s individuality.

If he had seriously played the role of a recovering Anke, he would have never encountered such a situation.

Although it’s still hard to determine the purpose, the following events are likely to expose him to something far more interesting.

"Sure thing."

Fu Qian didn’t even ask what the favor was and directly agreed without hesitation.

Alas...

This overly straightforward answer did not seem to overly excite Amila, as she sighed softly for the second time.

Clearly, for the person before her, all of this was nothing but a Nightmare.

So just as in her previous self-narration, the unknown only made him curious, and he was not afraid.

Although he was surprised by the unexpected injuries, he did not immediately offer help, because he wanted to see the effects of the wound and the fear of death.

Unfortunately, it seemed that the other party had even lost the sensation of pain.

"So what exactly do we need to do?"

Only then did Fu Qian finally ask about the specifics of the task.

"...Night watch Guards."

Amila calmed her emotions and spoke softly.

Oh?

This was undoubtedly a novel concept, and Fu Qian turned to glance at the building beside the three of them.

"Are you sure you can afford Guards for such a place?"

This wasn’t just a random question—the place clearly appeared to be an ordinary residence, even more so than the Reysen Family’s house.

"We can’t afford it, but the advantage is that the person is asleep."

Amila slowly shook her head, already leading the way.

"We will be the Night watch Guards within the Nightmare."

I see, so there lies a victim of a Nightmare inside; indeed an interesting development.

Coming into contact with a real Nightmare so quickly can certainly be considered an ideal scenario.

Although it’s highly unlikely to be the World Within the Painting, understanding the concept itself carries significant importance, since the former is clearly categorized under it as well.

"Furthermore, it may not mean much to you."

Before heading upstairs, Amila suddenly remembered something and added softly.

"That earlier incident was actually not a dream."

Of course I know that.

Touching the recently healed wound on his neck, dream expert Fu Qian thought to himself.

"I’ll remember these words."

...

It was clear that these two were not first-timers here.

Under the guidance of Amila, the trio navigated seamlessly through the house to reach a rather cramped bedroom.

Their entire journey was executed so proficiently and smoothly that very little noise was made by the time they stood beside the bed.

Lying in bed under the watchful eyes of the three was a young man with half-long hair, not older than thirty years in age.

The most peculiar detail was the bed, made up with compulsive neatness, and the pajamas on him matched in style.

The air was scented with tranquillizing incense, and he even wore a simple yet soft sleeping cap on his head.

This individual seemed to be striving to create an ideal sleeping environment.

Of course, all these efforts were futile compared to the coming external assistance.

Without wasting any effort, the silent Reginald stepped forward, raising something in his hands.

Strictly speaking, it seemed to be a Sword?

But it had a peculiar design, with over half its length occupied by interconnected rings, leaving just a small section of the blade, making it look impractical for real combat.

And what catches the eye the most, is none other than the intricate, layered ornamental patterns on its bizarre shape.

At the moment, in Reginald’s hands, they are blooming with a faint silver glow, extending all the way up to the screw-like, spiral blade.

The next moment, Reginald pressed it against the head of the person lying down, and slowly pushed it in.

What’s miraculous is that, under such a piercing thrust, the hard skull felt as soft as cotton, and not even a drop of blood seeped out.

The man seemed to sleep even more peacefully, visibly to the eye.

"Let me think, this is to share his nightmare without killing him, right?"

Fu Qian watched intently while curiously asking.

"Yes."

Amila looked somewhat resigned to his reaction.

"I don’t question its feasibility, but the design is pretty shocking. Wouldn’t it scare someone if discovered midway?"

Fu Qian pointed at the sword inserted in the forehead.

"Don’t worry, first of all, he won’t wake up, and secondly, we’ll return in a minute."

Amila, having fully embraced Fu Qian’s current persona, didn’t seem too surprised by his somewhat naive concerns, and while speaking, she even handed him something.

A mask?

Fu Qian took it with his hands and examined it closely.

It felt cool to the touch, apparently made of silver, a quite unique water drop shape.

Even more unique was that, instead of facial features including eye holes, it was an intertwining of gold and grey, sketching a deep vortex.

More like an eyeball than a face.

"Put it on, it will help with our work later."

Amila offered no further explanation, but put on the mask herself, followed by Reginald.

In the darkness, three such faces stared silently; if the man on the bed were to open his eyes to this scene, he’d probably prefer not to wake up.

Fu Qian sighed and took the advice as well.

Even before they began, Amila confirmed a suspicion for him—that the dream here really couldn’t last more than a minute.

Even from her casual demeanor, it seemed like this was a piece of common knowledge to The Sect’s people that didn’t require much secrecy.

Of course, in Fu Qian’s judgment, this did not mean the upcoming work would be easy—dream time might not be equivalent to reality.

A ready example lay before them: the Reysen couple spent what felt like decades in one night, which didn’t seem particularly strange to The Sect.

Thinking about this, he, as the Master of the Dream Realm, still hadn’t acquired such an advanced technique.

Indeed, there is no end to learning.

"Here we are."

Lost in thought, Amila’s reminder came from beneath the mask, accompanied by an invisible curtain unfolding.

This time it was indeed a dream.

As an experienced individual, Fu Qian effortlessly discerned the fundamental difference from the hunt just now.

Of course, the surface differences were also significant.

The mask, unexpectedly, no longer obscured his vision, becoming gradually transparent and clear.

It felt like goggles for navigating dreams.

As he admired inwardly, Fu Qian inspected the legendary nightmare that had finally arrived.

Amila was right; the job was a night shift.

What appeared before the three of them was a long, dim hallway, with the faint gas lights barely maintaining illumination, and on both sides were wooden doors of the same design, each with small glass windows.

"A hospital?"

After comparing the width of the doors and their decorations, Fu Qian glanced at Amila for confirmation.

"Yes, he’s tormented by illness in the nightmare."

Amila’s tone remained neutral.

"Of course, that has nothing to do with the task at hand; next, we need to patrol once to ensure that no unauthorized persons have entered here."