Chapter 99: Lotus's Dream

The next morning, Luke found that Lotus, who usually stayed up all night watching television, had not woken up. He realized the situation was serious.

Lotus had “hibernated” again.

No one knew how long this sleep would last.

“Why does this guy suddenly need to sleep every so often? I hope he won’t cause trouble again when he wakes up. I’d better be on guard,” Luke thought with a puzzled heart.

After pondering for a moment, Luke left Lotus at home. Then, with his small backpack on his shoulders, he went to school as usual.

In the fish tank, Lotus lay dormant, drifting into a strange dream...

In the void, a vast, colossal circular platform floated silently.

If one stood atop it, it would give the illusion of an endless ground, as if this were the entire world.

Far away in the unreachable depths of the void, a solitary luminous star hung, emitting faint light and warmth. Boundless darkness shrouded the platform, stretching seemingly to the edge of time and space.

Suddenly, a light flared.

With the sudden emergence of a bright glow on the platform, a vague silhouette silently appeared and stood there.

This figure was swallowed by the darkness, as if merging with it.

Then, another brilliant flash shone forth. Another figure descended upon the platform.

A third, a fourth, a fifth...

Soon, the entire platform was surrounded by figures of various sizes, each exuding distinct auras.

The largest among them seemed capable of stretching its body to reach the ends of the world...

The one with the most overwhelming presence, upon manifesting, caused light to dissipate and the void to shatter; its form was enveloped in radiant showers, entangled endlessly with boundless chaos, repeating perpetually...

At that moment, two more lights appeared in succession.

A gargantuan octopus suddenly materialized on the platform. Instantly, countless tentacles writhed fiercely in the air, their thorn-covered, thick limbs blotting out the sky, casting fragmented shadows beneath.

Then, a tall figure stepped forward.

A soft, feminine voice sounded: “Lotus.”

The woman was cloaked in a vast mantle as dark as night, her gait graceful, a staff in hand. The staff’s tip shimmered with magical light, making her stand out vividly on the expansive platform.

Her figure was that of a normal human, and standing before the giant octopus, she appeared petite.

Yet her presence rivaled that of the colossal beast!

The giant octopus fixed its many green eyes on the woman, its voice steady and wise: “Helde.”

At this moment, thirteen figures of diverse forms stood on the platform.

They formed a circle around the center of the platform, facing inward.

The woman’s gaze swept over the surroundings.

Beneath her left eye hung a single, crystal-clear tear formed from magic, never drying up, lending an otherworldly charm to her exquisite face.

She was Helde, the Weeping Eye.

The Second Apostle, Goddess of Magic, the origin of all magic.

Looking at these varied figures, Helde’s gentle voice spoke calmly, “We are all here. Then, let us begin.”

“Helde!”

A rough, resonant voice was the first to shatter the platform’s silence: “You called us here. If all you intend is to spout sweet lies, then I’ve heard enough already! Unless what you say next truly interests me!”

From the darkness emerged a tall, muscular man. His eyes were filled with arrogant mockery, his entire being radiating disdain and scorn for the insignificant.

Brutality and arrogance were his hallmarks.

The Tyrannosaurus King, Bakal, the strongest in the Dragon Kingdom, formerly the Ninth Apostle.

His words drew another voice in agreement.

A towering figure with a demonic face and fierce expression stepped out from the shadows.

“Helde, speak your plan. Though I have never cared for your schemes, you may have my support—if you convince me and fulfill your promise. My life is devoted to battle. As long as you find me an opponent...”

At the left side of this demonic figure’s waist hung two long blades, forever paired. Only those defeated by him knew their sharpness.

The Conqueror, Cassilias, the Bloodstained Iron, the Fourth Apostle.

Facing their unyielding challenges, Helde remained as serene as still water.

She slowly raised her radiant staff and gently traced a line through the air.

Countless pinpoints of glowing light silently appeared at the platform’s center.

They intertwined and converged, gradually forming a complex and splendid pattern.

“What is that...?” Bakal’s violent rage suddenly subsided. His eyes locked tightly on the dazzling image.

He was not skilled in such matters. He glanced toward a small figure still cloaked in darkness nearby, pondering.

“What is this?” Cassilias asked in a deep voice.

“It is a blueprint,” Helde explained calmly. “It is our last hope to escape the cycle of fate. To break free from destiny’s grasp, we must transcend it and reach a brand-new world line. There, the world’s convergence will no longer be controlled by the Great Will. And we shall gain true freedom.”

“How do we proceed?” Cassilias stepped to the center of the platform, looking up at the blueprint.

“That is a world unknown to us all, even the Great Will cannot detect or find it. Between that world and ours lies an unbreakable dimensional barrier. We must pierce through this barrier first; before that, any action is meaningless,” Helde explained.

“Then just say how to do it,” Cassilias grumbled.

Helde said, “We need to gather the power of all thirteen apostles. This blueprint is designed to create a weapon bearing a portion of each of our powers. Once combined, we must find a vessel to open the barrier from the other side.”

“I can contribute my power. Helde, this better be worth it!” Cassilias said without hesitation.

“This requires all our consent. None can be missing. On the other side lies a completely different space-time, none of us have been there, myself included. Only by reaching it can we be free. After all that has happened, even if you doubt me now, this is our only and final chance,” Helde said, then fell silent.

She quietly gazed at the brilliant blueprint, awaiting the others’ decisions.

Over countless ages, the thirteen apostles had proven they could not be killed by external forces, confirming this endless cycle.

As beings alongside the Great Will, they grew weary of ceaseless repetition.

What lay before them was the key to the one door of hope left open to them.

Beyond that door, the thirteen apostles would be reborn.

At that moment, a calm voice spoke from the side. The apostles turned their gaze to the source: the enormous octopus.

The Eighth Apostle, Master of Thousands of Weapons, Long-legged Lotus.

“How do you define ‘vessel’? What is the purpose of this endeavor?” Lotus asked in a deep voice.