Chapter 564: Eden

Leiketon, using the lingering spirit from the spirit insects of the Umbral Demon Wolf, briefly turned Baros Hopkins into a secret puppet, but because he is not a Secret Puppet Master, he can only perform simple control over this puppet.

He tried to have Baros Hopkins apply a Soothe to himself, calming the mind that had been eroded by the lingering effects of the Plague Storm.

As the Soothe was used, Leiketon clearly felt his control over the secret puppet diminish further; it seemed that after two more uses, the lingering spirit from the Umbral Demon Wolf's spirit insects would be exhausted.

The surrounding emerald vines that had woven into a forest quickly retracted, and the previously partitioned space merged back with the captain's cabin.

On the deck outside came the thudding sounds of running footsteps; after the effects of the earlier Plague Storm and Leiketon's mythical creature form had faded on the Black Throne, some higher‑ranking crew members had regained their senses and were trying to approach the captain's cabin.

Leiketon ignored the people outside the cabin, placed one hand on the shoulder of the secret‑puppet Baros Hopkins, and their bodies instantly became ethereal and transparent, vanishing inside the captain's cabin.

Baros Hopkins, carrying Leiketon, sped through the dream world and soon reached its depths, a city formed from a jumble of emotions, desires, and subconsciousness.

The inhabitants wore crisp suits and formal wear, yet each wore an animal head on its neck, each seemingly representing a human emotion or desire.

Suppressing the urge to scrutinize and catalog the city's myriad data, Leiketon strained to steer the secret‑puppet Baros Hopkins deeper into the city.

In the city's center, within a vast hall dominated by bright yellow stone pillars flanked by gray‑white columns inlaid with gold, an elderly man with pale‑yellow eyebrows, dark‑gold eyes, and neatly slicked‑back hair paced anxiously in the middle of the hall.

He is the King of the Black Seat, the true form of Baros Hopkins left in Eden, and also the deceased former dean of Beckland Medical Academy and royal medical advisor Baoli Delau.

His already wrinkled forehead, furrowed further by his brows, deepened the lines, and his face took on an unnaturally pallid hue.

"What's happening? Why do I feel such a strong unease?"

As he whispered, the once bright hall suddenly dimmed, and sparkling stars fell one by one, casting an aura of tranquility and peace.

Boom! The sound of flesh striking stone echoed behind him; instinctively turning, he saw a naked version of himself crash onto the gray stone floor, cracking it, the body splattering blood‑foam and beginning to shed gray‑white traits piece by piece.

In midair, sheets of pure, illusory feathers drifted down, tinged with madness, destruction, ominousness, and disaster.

"Good evening, Mr. Baoli Delau, I'm here to request the trait of the 'Dream Weaver'; I hope you don't mind."

Leiketon's whisper echoed in his ear, saturated with madness and chaos, making every organ feel as if it were coming alive, producing a tearing pain and briefly rendering his brain unable to think.

Buzz—buzz— the falling stars emitted concentric ripples, colliding and reverberating, producing a sharp, grating sound.

The sound seemed like countless wronged souls screaming beside his ear, piercing the spirit, causing the listener's spirit to vibrate with the frequency, as if it might shatter at any moment.

A single wildly aberrant eye sprouted from the surrounding air; each eye reflected a brilliant galaxy, seemingly containing countless bits of knowledge, swarming into Baoli Delau's mind.

Continuous assaults on his mind and brain threw all of Baoli Delau's virtual personas into chaos, leaving him in a bewildered, dazed state.

In this condition, he found it hard to muster the energy to observe further details or perform precise actions.

Baoli Delau collapsed onto the ground, fine beads of sweat beading on his forehead, gray‑white scales surfacing under his skin, and his body began to contort unnaturally.

In the next instant, his whole body suddenly swelled, gray‑white scales covering his surface, pupils becoming vertical, massive curved goat horns sprouting from his head, his spine arched high, continuously emitting the sound of flesh tearing.

He completed the transformation in a flash, becoming an underdeveloped gray‑white giant dragon.

The massive membranous wings fused with its forelimbs, hindering flight but giving its forelimbs a larger striking surface.

Roar— a dragon‑like bellow sounded, and an invisible transparent breath spewed from its mouth, as if it could tear the spirit and pierce the soul.

The invisible breath passed straight through Leiketon's body, which shattered and vanished, leaving only a playing‑card‑sized card. The front depicted an old man in a robe, holding a lamp and a cane, and in the upper left corner, words in an ancient Gufsak script read: Sequence 0: Hermit.

It was an illusion Leiketon created with the Hermit card, successfully deceiving the unwell King of the Black Seat.

In the next moment, a black mass covered with countless eyes materialized before Baoli Delau's dragon form, each eye on the obsidian tangle reflecting clearly in the dragon's dark‑gold vertical pupils.

A torrent of chaotic information flooded the dragon's head, its dark‑gold vertical pupils bulging outward, crimson veins standing out, as if the dragon's brain were about to explode.

Much of the information injected into the dragon‑transformed Baoli Delau's mind were "living knowledge," hard to resist or defend against, spontaneously burrowing into a being's mind, revealing the information they contain, and most of it was highly contaminating.

Huh—huh— blood surged rapidly toward his head, and the gray‑white scaled neck emitted a heavy gasp, as if bearing an unbearable load.

Leiketon reverted his mythical creature form, placing his right hand, fitted with a mechanical glove, onto Baoli Delau's gray‑white scales.

His draconic body began to redden and heat up, the scales abnormally shedding, internal moisture draining rapidly, gradually turning him into a desiccated corpse.

Roar! The intense pupils briefly restored his clarity, and he let out a complexly emotional hiss.

Leiketon's body instantaneously became ethereal, and a raging wind howled immediately, seeming both real and illusory, easily penetrating his form.

The wind carried intense anger, fear, and unease, as if it could shock body, mind, and spirit, sweeping in all directions before quickly dissipating among the surrounding twinkling stars.

After Baoli Delau's final struggling "Mind Stripping" vanished, Leiketon lifted his hand and drew from the void an ancient‑styled spear, its tip to hilt blazing with clusters of dark‑red blood‑colored flame.

The spear easily pierced the dragon's outer skin, tearing flesh and piercing its heart.

The gray‑white dragon, mired in chaos and madness, had its eyes clear for a moment, its body stiffened, and its aura plummeted precipitously.

The gray‑white dragon's lizard‑like head emitted a hoarse, feeble whisper: "How could—"

"You are too confident in yourself and Eden; I merely magnified some of your emotions, easily swaying your thoughts and judgment, causing you to completely forget to run away, forget to use magical items, and forget to delay time."

Leiketon's near‑babbling whisper reached Baoli Delau's ear; his dark‑gold vertical pupils seemed finally unable to bear it, bursting open, mixing scarlet and milky substances together.

Leiketon wasted no time, half‑crouching, and pressed his right hand, wearing the mechanical glove, onto the gray‑white dragon's skin.

Silently, the dragon's body began to fissure bit by bit, turning into fragments that fell to the ground, its colors evaporating and vanishing swiftly.

During this process, gray‑white specks continuously emanated from the dragon's corpse, floating rapidly in midair, coalescing into a pale vortex that swarmed inward.

As the dragon's corpse vanished completely, the extraordinary trait extracted from it fully formed: a gray‑white brain tissue whose folds outlined one complex, three‑dimensional mysterious symbol after another, extending inward into flesh and outward into the surrounding void, as if weaving something not of this world.

Not far away on the ground lay a pitch‑black, matte leather glove, etched with dark‑red aberrant patterns; merely looking at it evoked rising emotions and desires.

The moment he saw the glove, Leiketon seemed to understand, murmuring with a hint of sarcasm: "Were you affected by the negative effects of your own magical item? No wonder you were so easily swayed in thought and judgment by the Fallen Count's trait."

While speaking, he summoned two invisible hands, picking up the trait manifested by the "King of the Black Seat" on the ground together with the pitch‑black glove.

The trait on the King of the Black Seat belongs to the Manipulator; it appears fist‑sized, heart‑shaped, its surface covered with gray‑white folds, resembling an alternative brain.

Each fold bears countless symbolic markings and bizarre patterns layered outward, penetrating the surrounding environment and linking to another realm that extraordinary beings can scarcely perceive.

He glanced down at the two traits in his hands, summoned two Invisible Servants holding metal boxes, placed the traits into pre‑prepared metal boxes, and had the Invisible Servants carry them away for storage.

(End of Chapter)