Round Fourteen: Breaking the Pupa

A gust of cold wind blew in, extinguishing the faint flames still burning on the cave walls. It wasn’t really “extinguished”; from the trajectory of the flames disappearing, it seemed as though some demon hidden deep in the cave was taking deep breaths, sucking in all the embers left from the fireballs and vanishing them without a trace.
Darkness began to spread through the tunnel, mixing with the air to form a cold, damp mass that slowly approached the group led by Forty-Seven.
Something was watching in the darkness—Morril, as a child, had once been awakened inexplicably from sleep, staring at the strange and terrifying surroundings in the dim light, at the furniture that appeared faithfully in her vision yet was distorted by her mind, feeling a shiver shoot through her heart—her situation was somewhat similar to this. Kairo behind her moved restlessly, while the dragon’s metallic scales remained icy cold. By human standards, Forty-Seven probably wasn’t even sweating.
Morril drew a crossbow arrow from her quiver at her side, turned it in her hand, and the short arrow emitted a torch-like light that illuminated a small area around her. Then she threw it casually, and the arrow flew into the dark mist ahead with a “whoosh,” as if shot from a real bow.
The arrow, imbued with the “Light Magic,” flashed briefly before disappearing into the darkness, as fleeting as a meteor, without even making a sound when it hit a wall or fell to the ground.
Yet that brief flash was enough. Even the smallest stone thrown into water creates ripples, and this flash had already disturbed the predator lurking in the shadows. It gave up on hiding in the environment, hissing as it raised its body—its sound resembled the screeching of mating snakes entwined, their scales rubbing against each other, a sound like a file grinding deep into the most primal depths of the mind, almost unbearable for those who heard it, causing goosebumps to cover their entire bodies.
Morril caught a glimpse of the creature’s shape in the dimness and felt chills run through her. If daytime creatures like humans had an innate fear of the night, then the monstrous beast before her was undoubtedly the most vivid manifestation of that fear—a terrifying creature released from a vile and absurd dream into the waking world. Only by gathering all her willpower could she remain seated without trembling in fear.
The monster’s huge, bloated ghostly form slid down the rocks, crawling forward like a nimble fish weaving through coral reefs. Its form seemed to change constantly, even when stared at without blinking—what was seen one moment was never the same the next—but every detail was a grotesque illusion only imaginable in a nightmare. It seemed not entirely real, as if part of it had seeped into the observer’s mind, manipulating their senses at will, inserting its invented nightmares into everything real.

The female mage used the focused mental commands unique to arcane practitioners to keep herself calm, trying to perceive this creature as something that, though by no means normal, was at least relatively stable—a hazy, swollen entity with eight arms, each ending in either sharp claws or pointed pincers. Its snake-like torso stretched back into the darkness, as if it regarded the tunnel as its nest, covered in spikes and scales. Tens of millions of slender worms writhed within it, hissing softly. Deep within its mouth full of jagged teeth, countless acts of cruelty awaited their victims to experience.

“A dream pupa,” Kayro whispered, uttering a name that even Moriel could not pronounce accurately.

Moriel chewed on the word, sensing its ancientness and horror… How did Kayro know its name?

Before she could ponder further, a shock ran through her as 47 took action. He stepped forward two times, but not as silently and eerily as the dream pupa. The dragon’s long tail swept against the rock walls, shaking loose dust and debris, as if a light rain were falling.

The dream pupa also suddenly turned, its translucent serpent-like body passing through the rocks as easily as a bird passing through clouds. It opened its mouth wide; it was impossible to tell where its eyes were, but it seemed as though every worm writhing on its body possessed a soul, staring viciously at 47 with pain and resentment, hoping to drag him into despair as well, to add some comfort to its own eternal suffering.

The two giants stood facing each other at a distance of about ten steps for a moment before launching their first tentative attacks almost simultaneously. One of the horn spikes on 47’s iron wings, protruding like spears, detached and was launched forward. The trailing flame and the reflection from the missile made it look like lightning thrown by a deity. The steel spear instantly pierced through the dream pupa’s massive body, causing a burst of violent flames that spread within half a second into a huge, raging blaze of fire red, greedily devouring the internal organs torn apart by the hot metal fragments and the writhing worms screaming in agony, almost splitting it in two.

The dream pupa let out a terrifying scream that no sentient being could endure. The sharp sound waves vibrated the air, and the dream pupa itself changed shape amid the increasingly pitiful echoes, twisting along the spreading firestorm into many terrifying forms that could only be glimpsed in the deepest nightmares.

Although Kayro hid her head behind Moriel, the corner of her eye still caught a glimpse of the dream pupa’s sinuous form. Thus, the girl saw everything—like light seeping through a crack, it flooded into her retina.

Kairo couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, and couldn’t describe what she saw. Living darkness enveloped her, with countless icy, empty gazes like bottomless pits. From the profound darkness, indistinct yet repulsive touches, like those of mollusks, reached out, eager and hungry to tear her into pieces, dragging her endlessly downward into a nightmare of darkness. All she could see was the terrifying, hopeless darkness of the soul; all she could hear were fragmented murmurs… This was the despair she had once experienced, now awakened as an amplified nightmare.

The darkness surged like waves, swallowing Kairo before she could even scream.

Morriel closed her eyes tightly, gripping the long spines on Forty-Seven’s back, holding her mind firm against the illusory attacks of the Dream Cocoon, pushing aside its supernatural horrors from her thoughts. She had already cast defensive spells to protect herself and Kairo from instant-death attacks, but she wasn’t sure if those spells could stop the nightmares woven by the Dream Cocoon from invading—after all, closing her eyes didn’t prevent her from seeing what the Dream Cocoon wanted her to see.

Thousands of failures, trapped in hellish flames, their souls screaming in agony. They struggled, stretching out their arms, desperate to share their suffering, trying to grasp Morriel’s red robe with their withered fingers, to seize her body and soul. Their faces, twisted by torment, were unrecognizable yet somehow familiar. It wasn’t until the souls pushed together, forming a rapidly spinning vortex that pressed down on her that Morriel realized something.

All the faces were her own.

The Dream Cocoon stretched out like an enormous black curtain, even covering Forty-Seven in his dragon form. Death, embodied as death itself, was depicted on the curtain. Shiny steel dragon scales showed various images of the Dream Cocoon, each one smiling cruelly as it surrounded Forty-Seven. Flames, explosions, streams of plasma destruction—everything shattered into dust under the crushing force. Distant stars dimmed and vanished one after another. The hellish battlefield set on the city-like starship turned into a hazy mist, leaving only wreckage in the shadows, twisted together into tombstones, sealing the meaninglessness of his life with desolate mockery.

The Constructed Dragon flapped its wings, stirring up a fierce wind that shook the entire vast tunnel. Sand and stones flew everywhere in the storm, and the swirling dust was pushed outward by the roaring gusts into a solid wall of gray, not only dispersing the dark forms created by the Dream Cocoon but also leaving countless pits and dents in the rocks.

If it meant nothing, then it meant nothing. The terrifying spectacle shown by the Dream Cocoon could drive any veteran who had survived countless battles mad, for it could act like an accurate scanner, searching for the deepest fears hidden in a victim’s mind, digging them out to analyze and exploit them, creating imaginary, terrifying predators—if you feared death, then when you saw the Dream Cocoon, you were also seeing Death itself, so close that it seemed to be right against your throat, breathing for you.

But for Forty-Seven, who was essentially still a machine, the onslaught of nightmares was at best a bit of surprising spectacle. Joy, anger, sorrow, grief—no matter how hard he tried to express these emotions through imitation, what actually drove him to function and survive was the operation of the reactor, the pulses of electromagnetic waves, the steady flow of endless energy, and the intense vibrations generated by the engines that flowed into the numerous metal parts within him, each performing its function in an orderly manner, binding them together to form an indestructible whole… When all this was ready, the program unleashed the furious wrath it had been endowed with from birth.

The shock woke Morriel from her daze. She activated the magic stored in her spell ring and flew away from Forty-Seven with still somewhat disoriented Kayro. A torrent of steel rushed beneath them as Forty-Seven leaped forward and rushed in front of the Dream Cocoon.

Like two trains colliding, steel pushed against flesh, and blazing flames tore through the dark shadows swirling like clouds. The two combatants immediately unleashed incredible, fierce attacks upon each other. The Dream Cocoon, now back in its eight-clawed form, circled Forty-Seven, hissing viciously, its claws and pincers gripping him and tearing at him with astonishing strength—so much so that they even pierced Forty-Seven’sMithril armor scales armor scales, with sparks of electric fire bursting out from the cracks.

The electric sparks quickly spread throughout Forty-Seven’s body. He raised his head high, and snakes of lightning rushed out of him one after another, swirling and jumping around him to form a supergrid of blue and white light.

The lightning sliced through the Dream Cocoon like swords. The monster curled up its soft, swollen body, resembling an anemone, with worms growing in large numbers on its surface being scorched and turning into gray-black debris that fell to the ground. It had to release Forty-Seven, who was still discharging fierce electricity, and retreat to avoid its attacks. At the same time, it spat out a colorful cone of rainbow light, much larger than the rainbow beam spell Morriel had ever cast before, enveloping half of the dragon’s body in a rainbow glow, each color carrying different magical effects—yet only the hissing acidic liquid had any effect on him; the rest of the light merely shone in the cave for a moment before being swallowed by the flaming dragon breath that counterattacked. The raging flames licked and melted the rock layers, interacting with the lightning to create incredible reactions that triggered continuous explosions, forcing the Dream Cocoon to intensify its rainbow light emissions while continuing to retreat deeper into the tunnel.

Even with the magic shield protecting them, the flying colorful beams and the growing, larger hellfire posed significant trouble for Morriel. After all, the Dream Cocoon’s attacks had too many additional effects, and Forty-Seven’s flames were simply too powerful. The dazzling flames surrounded her and Kayro, lighting up their faces. Fireballs rolled outside the shield and in their eyes, shooting everywhere, devouring the rainbow beams and turning them into clusters of brilliant fireworks.

Forty-Seven clearly didn’t need her help… The female mage thought of a problem.

“Kairo, how do you know what this monster is called?” Moriel didn’t think Kairo had seen the name “Dream Pupa” in a storybook by the bed.
“I… I don’t know either…” Kairo rubbed his head anxiously. “It… it just appeared suddenly, as if someone whispered it in my ear.”
Appeared suddenly? Moriel glanced at Kairo several times, worried, sensing something odd.
“Sister Moriel! Be careful!” Kairo suddenly cried out, once again detecting the anomaly before Moriel.
The rock walls around them trembled and rotated silently—stones deformed like mud, and numerous writhing worms emerged from the gray rocks. At their center was a giant maw filled with cruel, sharp teeth.
Another Dream Pupa rushed out through the wall behind them, its gaping mouth large enough to swallow and crush both of them at once. Its speed was so great that the female mage had no time to prepare a defense.
A suddenly appearing phantom fist slammed down on the back of the equally phantom monster. The powerful impact forced it to change course, passing beneath Moriel before crashing onto the ground covered in scorching ashes. The force field fist didn’t cause much damage to the Dream Pupa, which simply turned around and counterattacked. The magic fist dutifully stood between its master and its opponent, spreading its fingers to grab it, but the Dream Pupa struck its palm, quickly distorting this energy construct beyond recognition.
Forty-Seven’s claws came to the magic fist’s rescue. He rushed over, swatted the Dream Pupa back into oblivion, then delivered a true “Dragon Tail Swing” to send it flying far away. The howling wind rushed through the canyon-like space again, with streams of scorching particle energy gathering in his throat, ready to deliver another hellish flame attack.
He coughed. Smoke billowed from his mouth and nose, forming a mushroom-shaped cloud that didn’t disperse until it hit the cave ceiling. He stopped exhaling not because his mouth was blocked, but because he realized the two Dream Pupas had fled into the rocks at top speed.
The second Dream Pupa had launched a sneak attack merely to rescue its companion, who was being brutally attacked by Forty-Seven.
“Do they also know the tactic of luring the enemy away to rescue their own?” Forty-Seven didn’t pursue them. Even without having to watch over the two women, he didn’t possess Tu Xingsun’s ability to burrow through the ground.
“Presumably this is the so-called Bryant’s devil,” Moriel and Kairo said as they climbed back onto Forty-Seven’s back, sitting between his wings. “It seems they’ve made this place their nest… and they’re not very hospitable. Let’s go.”
Perhaps because the Dream Pupas had been repelled, the rest of the journey became less complicated. Breaking through several layers of crumbling or about-to-crumble stone walls, they finally saw the gray-white sky once again.