Chapter 58: Apprentice

"The only salvation..." The priest heard this sentence in a blur, raising his head as if experiencing a final flash of clarity.

"Yes, salvation!" Cheek affirmed.

After becoming a Beyonder, he had encountered several crises of losing control, but he had survived them all unscathed thanks to the existence of this piece of Cake and another Dark Robe.

That sense of disparity, as if having been to heaven and seen the Dream, only to fall back into the human world, was so intense that it left an indelible mark on Cheek's memory.

It was countless times more powerful than a prayer directed at any deity, or even a prayer directed at the Dream Angel!

It was the true power of salvation, not cold words recorded in scriptures.

Those few experiences of losing control convinced him that the Angel who could give him these two items must be the salvation of this mad world!

The priest tilted his head back, struggling to open his eyes wide, and vaguely saw the pathological possessiveness on Cheek's face.

"You... you are blaspheming!" The priest's eyes widened sharply.

"God saves the world, why can't He save me?!" Cheek's expression turned strange, then relieved.

"We believe in the Lord not for favor, we seek our own peace!" The priest said sternly with his last bit of strength.

"I cannot attain peace; I need to obtain the salvation of the Dream."

The expression on Cheek's face became devout, but even more perverted.

He treasured the Cake in his hand as he put it away, looking at the priest indifferently, letting his body bleed out.

After waiting for quite some time, a fist-sized Characteristic appeared beside the priest's corpse.

"This has always been a world where people eat people."

Although Cheek was only a Sequence 8, his understanding of the essence of this world was sufficiently profound.

A single observation from a time he killed a Monster had made him understand much, and he even possessed an extremely strong talent for the acting of his Sequence.

He put away the Characteristic and began to pray right beside the corpse.

"True Person, Pure Spirit... I pray for your gaze, I pray for your miracle..."

Cheek prayed as always; he performed such prayers dozens of times every day, worthy of being the most devout believer of the Dream.

However, such prayers could not even pass the screening of the Dream Statue to appear in Chumen's ears.

Although Chumen took the faith of believers lightly, as long as they could provide an "Anchor" for him, one had to be devout to receive the bestowal of the Dream.

And Cheek's prayers were too purposeful, even somewhat... perverted.

The Dream Statue automatically filtered out such prayers, leaving no trace.

"Does the Dream no longer favor me?"

A long time later, Cheek, who still had not received a response, felt a sense of loss.

"Then I will walk before him myself!"

Cheek seemed to have made a certain resolution; he took out the materials required for various formulas, took out a Stone Jar, and prepared the Potion under the guidance of the formula.

During this process, his expression changed several times, his hands trembled, but his attitude remained firm.

Not long after, the preparation of the Potion was successful.

"How far do I need to go to be able to contact an Angel?"

"If I become a 'Witch', would I be able to..."

Cheek's Adam's apple bobbed as his own cognition teetered on the brink of collapse, but in the end, he still drank the Potion in the jar in one gulp.

The hunt for the Elf in Dream City on the second day was very successful; with the cooperation of several Beyonders, they killed a Sequence 7 "Storm Priest" and seized its Characteristic.

But the impact caused by this incident was far worse than Cheek had planned.

The Elf race set their sights on Dream City, and the Church, out of consideration for protecting Dream City, also dispatched a large number of Beyonders there.

This was the beginning of a disaster, a war.

Of course, these were small matters, far from being something Chumen needed to care about; he was arranging the truly big events.

After possessing the Alusuhode Pen, Sasriel had already pushed the execution of many things onto him.

His most urgent task now was to write various short stories to drag the major extraordinary races back into the quagmire of war.

He had already done this once, but having broken away from the mad race of demons, things had become slightly more complicated.

"No! I'm writing until I'm sick!" This time the story was even more complex, and the character relationships between the major races were chaotic, making him very uncomfortable.

Now, in order to ensure the smooth occurrence of certain things, he was almost writing a real history book.

Thousands of words every day—is this a life for a human?

Chumen only had a pen; he was not a real "Writer".

"Then shall I recommend an Apprentice to you?" Sasriel thought for a moment and suggested, "He will help you complete the writing of the stories."

"What? An Apprentice?" Chumen was surprised; he was just complaining and slacking off as usual—what kind of worker could still have a positive mindset?

But this suggestion from Sasriel was truly beyond his expectations.

"Let me take on an Apprentice? What are you trying to do?" Chumen blinked, becoming vigilant.

"I recently discovered a young man with great potential; the Lord's evaluation of him is extremely high, and He even bestowed a surname upon him."

Chumen raised an eyebrow, seemingly realizing something.

"Abraham," Sasriel said solemnly.

This surname had a noble and sacred connotation.

Being bestowed this surname by the Ancient Sun God was already a supreme honor.

"Abraham..." Chumen was stunned, but then felt it was a matter of course.

"He is an 'Apprentice', and I hope you can become his teacher," Sasriel said solemnly.

"Have you been waiting for me here all along?" Chumen's mouth twitched; he always felt he had been schemed against.

"I hope he can receive the protection of the Dream," Sasriel said directly.

"Abraham..." Chumen pondered for a moment before agreeing; an Apprentice like this would likely be quite good.

"Very well." Chumen nodded; this was a person truly worthy of the surname "Abraham."

Soon, a young man arrived before the two of them.

There was not much expression on the young man's face, bordering on indifference, and a pair of azure eyes radiated a kind of detached clarity.

He bowed to Sasriel meticulously, only then raising his head to look at Chumen.

"Dream Highness... please accept Bethel's reverence..."

The young man saw Chumen and, realizing something, his slightly poker-faced and rigid expression revealed some excitement.

Within the Creator's Divine Kingdom, Chumen's status was also special, because the subjects within his territory could believe solely in Dream, a right that no other Angel possessed.

"He is Bethel Abraham." Sasriel looked toward Chumen.

Chumen scrutinized this young man; he was still an "Apprentice," having only just started on the Sequence, but this person's future was destined to be incomparably brilliant.

"From now on, I shall be your teacher, and you are my first student." Chumen's tone was sufficiently solemn.

"Student pays respects to Teacher!" Bethel knelt on the ground and prostrated himself; in the city-state where Bethel grew up, this was a ritual reserved only for one's parents.

Chumen sensed a certain sincerity and nodded with satisfaction.

This kid was a bit poker-faced, but his inner heart was quite active; he was worth cultivating!