Trafficked: Reborn Heir's Revenge
Chapter 74: The Nightmare of Identity...

Chapter 74: The Nightmare of Identity......The moment Oliver tore the mission paper in half, reality folded in on itself.He felt a sudden lurch, like his body had been dropped from a mountain peak. The familiar textures of the Dream Realm peeled away like skin, and in their place came suffocating darkness. His feet hit the ground, or something like it, with a sharp jolt.A haunting gong rang through the air.Above him, glowing letters appeared in red, suspended in the void:[Mission Initiated>Rescue the Fallen Star: A child of the Twilight Kin has been captured by Hollowed Dream Cultists. Save her before her mind is devoured.>Time Remaining: 8 minutes 43 seconds.]The letters vanished in a slow, ember-like drift.Oliver looked around. The air was thick and moist, as if the sky itself was decaying and polluting the land below.He stood at the edge of a charred, lifeless forest. The trees here were twisted into shapes that felt like they should not exist, their branches bent like limbs trying to reach out and strangle the stars above.Ahead was a clearing, lit in flickers by torchlight. The sound hit him next.Chants. Screams. The cracking of wood and the snarls of what Oliver could only call mad zealots.He crept forward through the warped foliage. As he stepped through the final barrier of trees, the scene before him caused him to pause.A massive X-shaped wooden cross stood tall in the center of a dirt clearing. Nailed to one side was a pale, regal elven woman. Her clothes were shredded, her silver hair matted with blood. But even in suffering, she some how held herself with a strange kind of dignity.On the other side of the cross, nailed at the ankles and wrists, was a small girl. She had dark hair and dark skin, but not as dark as the others. Her hair was long, and while she was beautiful in her own right—inheriting one of the most famous traits of elves, she currently looked like a fearful terrible mess. Oliver had seen her before, back at the shores when they had only just arrived. Oliver did not know her name. Only the name that was given to her by the slave masters.A222.Oliver could see the confusion in her eyes. Her small chest heaved with panicked breaths. Tears streaked the grime and blood on her cheeks. She was shaking. It was not from the cold, but from something primal. Terror.Surrounding them were dozens of dark elves. Except that their faces were all wrong.Their faces were distorted, like they had been dragged out of a painting by cruel hands. Eyes where mouths should be, skin that shimmered and peeled like spoiled fruit. And every single one held a torch.They screamed at her, spat on her, cursed her existence."Half-blood filth!""Your mother laid with a lesser being!""Blight on our royal veins!""Offer her to the Rotten Harvest!" The voices became one ugly cacophony, rising in volume until it no longer sounded like language, but a war drum of hatred.It came from everywhere.A giant Rotten tree loomed at the far end of the clearing, just behind A222 and her mother. Black roots coiled around its trunk like snakes, and from its branches hung faces—melting, shrieking, whispering. This was the representation for the Elf God of Rotten Harvest, and it pulsed with hungry malice."That's not good!" The Elf God of Rotten harvest was not the best for worship out there. In fact, in a sacrifice to him, the subject considered an abomination was usually, dismembered and certain organs eaten by the people, in a show of repentance. For elves that carried themselves with so much pride, sacrifices to the Rotten God of Harvest was not exactly their cleanest moment.Then again, it was a god only the Dark elves acknowledged and not the Light elves.But to know that the people before you were eager to partake of your fleshOliver could feel A222' s terror pressing into the Dream itself. But there was more. It was shame, Loneliness, incredible Self-hate. 'Shit' he cursed. No doubt these had been forged by years of rejection. But what was worse, was the fact that it all weighed on him. He could feel his own heart rate. It was like he was absorbing all her negative emotions. Basically, her nightmare was pouring into him. Oliver blinked continually. Things were starting to become unclear. He could not help but remember the warning that the Skull had given him the first time he had entered a dream—Seraphina's dream.Back then, her emotions had resulted in his swift death. But the Skull had pulled him out in time, and back to reality—if not, he would have really been in trouble. Without a doubt, that Skull was not going to do it again. It was always annoying with how it hoped Oliver would learn—the hard way.It was a good thing he had brought that item. With struggle, Oliver reached into his pouch.[Moonflower Elixir]Restores clarity. Temporarily shields mind from Dream corruption.Price: 1 Silver"Plucked from petals only found in still-screaming dreams." Oliver had hoped that by sheer will and his incredible mental endurance, he would have been able to fend off any mental influence of the nightmare. But a back up plan was good. He downed the content.[You have used potion of Moonflower Elixir][Dream corruption has been erased]Oliver breathed heavily. He looked on ahead at the gathering, breath relieved. Weirdly enough, regardless of the noise, he could hear the conversation between A222 and her mother. Aside the repeating chants from the mob, it was the only thing that made some kind of sense.Her Mother looked at her. Her mouth moved. Oliver frowned. Something was not right.Her voice came broken, sorrowful, and cold:"You should have never been born. I regret having you. I hate you. You deserve it. You deserve it all. Just Die You Filth."A222' s eyes widened at those words, and she began to scream. But no sound came out. Her mouth opened, her body thrashed, but it was like her own voice had abandoned her.Oliver knew that he had to get to her. But the crowd was just too much. They were everywhere. He leaped into the air, his incredible ability as a rank 1 Blood warrior was in effect. However every time he was close, it seemed like the mob would block his path. Some even floated upward—twisted, annoying. It was really frustrating. He decided to attack instead. again and again, he used the One—inch punch, destroying the mob constructs to get to A222. Still, no matter how hard he tried, he just could not reach her.He felt like every time he tried to reach her, the distance was added. Something... something was not right. In this manner, he eventually used up the time.The world morphed again, and he found himself back at the Guild Station. ><"it seems like you had fun!" The Skull appeared on his right shoulder. "What was that?" ><"Huh... I was hoping to do a dramatic—sudden entrance. It didn't work? or maybe not just the right shoulder... but you are right handed, so maybe...""No! not that. I mean the nightmare. Why could I not reach her?"><"Well, your first mistake would be trying to address the dream realm like its the waking world, even though you DO know that its not. Secondly, each nightmare or dream is as unique as the subconscious thoughts of its producer—Which is an even bigger headache. I don't have a brain and just thinking about it gives me a sick pain in the head." the skull massaged its head against Oliver's shoulder."But... but what about the tools. I thought that..."><"No!" The Skull interrupted him. "Just because you are fundamentally connected to the dream realm and instinctively know the best tools to use for a nightmare does not mean that you will automatically be able to solve the riddles of that nightmare. What you need, is to find what makes the nightmare tick. When you do, you will be able to know how to beat it. Okay, that's it for today's lectures. They are some sweethearts in a dream I need to visit." The Skull gave a perversive grin, and then it disappeared.Oliver sighed as he laid on the ground. He thought hard—at the things he had seen and felt within the nightmare. As someone that had been through his own share of trauma, he understood the mix of feelings that A222 was experiencing. But the most surprising part in all of this was the fact that regardless of the troubles that she faced from the continuous pain that the Vaelcrest family provided, her trauma was not tied to slavery, but to her origins. Even more, he wondered how she had resolved this trauma in his past life. He believed he was missing something. In his experience, trauma led to anguish, but A222 had shone bright like a star in the sky.Oliver sighed. He decided he should maybe try again. However, there was a red alert.[Alert: Nightmare Client is unavailable]Oliver massaged his jaw. With such a haunting nightmare, she must have woken up. It was no wonder the timer for the nightmare was so short. He tried to pick another paper from the Mission board. But...[You can only attempt missions, one at a time.]If that was the case, then he would just shop for what he wanted in the first place. After all, he did come items that could aid his first dungeon raid. Besides, if he was lucky, he would find that man. Oliver waved his hand, and from his pouch, the small rubber duck appeared. This was the shard that Accra had stolen for him back on the ship, that eventually led to the death of a noble man. This rubber Duck was going to his access to that place. He threw it back to the pouch and proceeded to the counter. As the shop opened up, he proceeded to buy, and buy... and buy. Until he was down to only 100 silver coins. "So, these items. You are sure I can take them to the waking world, right?""Yes..." The Nymph replied. "They can all be used in the waking world."Although Oliver had already taken certain items to the waking world before, he had to double check. With How much he spent here, it would hurt his feelings if things went the wrong way.Now, that was done.Oliver looked around him. He suddenly felt like there was nothing much to do. In that case. He gave a mischievous smile. He was going to try the Night trail. [Night Trial: Phase 2 Hint: "I Have No Eyes But I Must See, I Have No Voice But I Must Scream"][Do You wish to proceed?Yes/No]If he passed this trial, he would immediately become a rank 2 Blood warrior. Power was an attractive allure to any man that had vengeance in his heart. With that, he would be as strong as Cassian.Just as he opened the hint, he remembered The skull's words. ><"Trust me. You are not ready for the next trial. Go around, explore the dream realm. Learn a thing or two. Do not rush it."Oliver shook his head. "That skull does not understand my pain. We are about to enter the dungeons. I need power fast!" Oliver had forgotten that he had actually become a rank 1 blood warrior in only two weeks. A feat that took royals a couple of years to achieve. Nobles, some five to ten years, and commoners decades.Then again, Once one tasted power, it was hard to resist. [Yes][You have accepted the Night trial: The Blinded Choir's Identity Crisis]Space shifted. The scenery around him collapsed like melting wax.There was no light.There was no sound.Oliver looked around, "How did I...?"Darkness folded inward, and his body dropped onto cold, pulsating stone.Above his head, glowing red words formed in the sky:[Night Trial: Phase 2 Activated: The Blinded Choir]["I Have No Eyes But I Must See, I Have No Voice But I Must Scream"][Who I'm I? Why I'm I? Where I'm I? The Nightmare Bloodline Inheritor must find 'me'.][Timer: 10 Minutes.]This time around, the chime echoed in his skull, not through his ears, but directly into his thoughts."Only ten minutes?" He thought to himself. The last time, it had been 72 hours for the Desert trial. No doubt, it was because he had already been in the dream realm for a long time. But this much was not bad. after all, he was only here to check it out of curiosity. and maybe. just maybe he could score some points to increase his power while he was at it.But then came the silence.Oliver tried to speak. To ask if anyone was there. His throat burned with the effort, but no sound came. There was more. He reached out instinctively to feel the terrain, but his vision—gone. Not even a flicker of light. Just black.Total sensory deprivation for his eyes and mouth.The trial had begun. 'Shit! what is going on?' he thought to himself. The last night trial had not been like this.Panic threatened to rise. He gritted his teeth.His heart thudded heavily against his ribs, the only sensation keeping him grounded. He breathed in. Out. In. Out.Then something changed.A pulse. It was not of sound or light—but emotion.A flicker of despair to his left. Another of rage further behind. Like sonar, these emotions briefly illuminated the space around them in his mind. Like oil paintings forming from tears.He reached forward, stumbling. His hands reached out for something. Anything.Cages.Dozens. from the noise that came from them. No—hundreds. Some close, some far. Inside each cage was a figure. Slaves. Mangled, mouthless, eyeless figures. Their faces hollowed, sewn shut. Screaming with everything except sound. Some beat their heads against the iron bars, some just sat silently, rocking.He approached the first cage that gave out a pulsing aura of jealousy.As he neared, it flashed brightly in his thoughts—then collapsed.The creature inside burst through the bars, its head twisted around three times. Its body resembled his own—gaunt, wounded, barefoot, wearing chains. A nightmare emotion-version of himself.It rushed him.Oliver barely ducked fast, stumbling backward. But he couldn’t even scream—he couldn’t even call out. His mind burned as the nightmarish version of himself clawed at him.He wanted to fight—tried to fight. But How do you fight what can't be seen, but was birthed with the same skills as you, only madder.It gnawed at him. All he felt were the sharp nails, teeth, and the emotion it represented.Instantly, his mind moved for a solution, and he activated the Dream Thread Gauntlets he had initially bought for A222's nightmare.[Dream Thread Gauntlets]Allows the manipulation of dream-anchored constructs (chains, barriers, illusions). Duration: 10 minutesPrice: 3 Silver"Let your hands remember what your soul has forgotten." With his will, he forced strands of light to wrap around the figure, binding it just long enough for him to flee.What he did not know, and could not see was that he had entered into the maze of cages.He felt bruised. Bleeding. Uncertain if it was real or imagined. His fingers felt forward, and around. There was still more.—many more cages. There was no end to them.And then, the cages all opened up, and the different 'hims' stumbled out. They rushed at him. in no time, he was drowned by all of them. He moved. He fought. But soon, his struggle was like a drowning man that could not swim. All he felt was a storm of emotions wearing his fac. They came with every bite, punch, kick, tear, rip-apart, like they were trying to take a piece of him, and unto themselves. Like glass, Oliver felt himself break...