"Dream!" Cohinem, standing amid the storm, sensed Truman's arrival, her face wary.
She hadn't forgotten the crushing defeat she once suffered at the hands of the Dream.
"I bring the Lord's oracle," Truman said, ignoring Cohinem and proclaiming the divine decree.
Pure, radiant sunlight emerged from the void, and a shadow of the Creator coalesced behind Truman, its brilliance illuminating the entire battlefield.
All the Creator's believers on the battlefield were blessed by the light, growing stronger and fiercer.
"The Elf Divine Kingdom shall return to dust."
At these words, every elf's face changed drastically.
"Blasphemer!" Cohinem pointed, and a storm of rolling thunder descended, striking at Truman.
"The Creator will reclaim all His authorities, ascending to supremacy once more. Elves and dragons are but false gods!"
Truman shouted even louder, his voice echoing across the battlefield.
The entire battlefield fell into an eerie silence.
This was absolute blasphemy!
Elves and dragons were true ancient gods, their authorities the very emblem of divinity.
Who would dare to blaspheme a god?
Never before!
Truman became the first to proclaim the concept of "false gods."
"That bold, huh?" Even Medici was stunned.
This was the ultimate provocation, offending two ancient god races in a single sentence—a fight to the death!
Even he, a natural "provocateur," felt outdone.
Within the Creator's Heaven, no one had ever called the Elf King or the Dragon of Imagination "false gods," acknowledging their ancient god status and framing this war as a "holy war."
This war was the awakened Creator's divine campaign to reclaim His authorities.
But Truman's blasphemous act shocked even his allies.
The next moment, the elf clan erupted.
"Blasphemer! Die!" A furious roar rose from the elves.
"Blasphemer! Die!"
"…"
A group of elves, known for their singing, bellowed the same phrase in rage, forming a terrifying sonic wave.
"Great Elf King, punish this blasphemer!"
All the elves prayed, certain the Elf King's gaze had long been fixed on this battlefield!
Cohinem's face was grim. She could imagine the Elf King's fury in his palace, so intense that he hadn't yet unleashed divine punishment.
"What is he doing?!" A chill of dread surged in Cohinem's heart.
"What is he doing?!" Far in the Creator's divine kingdom, Sasrir's eyes widened sharply.
This direct provocation of an ancient god was tantamount to suicide!
"Save him!" Sasrir shouted, heedless of all else.
His plea was directed at the Ancient Sun God, the only one capable of saving someone from the Elf King's wrath.
"No need. This is his choice," the Ancient Sun God said calmly, holding the Blasphemer Slate, already prepared for divine war.
"Book of Dreams," the Ancient Sun God said, gazing at the battlefield, his clear eyes reflecting destructive thunder.
Boom!
A terrifying thunderbolt, capable of shattering an entire continent, descended from the heavens. Perhaps even the Elf King was stunned by Truman's audacity, delaying his divine punishment by a beat.
But the Elf King's enraged strike was immeasurable, capable of annihilating a continent—not mere hyperbole.
A divine-level "Lightning Storm"!
The aura of violent destruction obliterated all matter, crashing onto the Angel of Dreams.
Countless onlookers gazed upward, their eyes blinded by searing white, terrified by the sky of thunder.
Medici, Ouroboros, and other angels prayed fervently for the Ancient Sun God to save Truman, but it was too late—the savage lightning engulfed Truman's body!
The scene Truman had foreseen came to pass: thunder pierced him.
He had orchestrated this, not letting fate push him to this point.
"This is the power of an ancient god…" Truman watched as the most ferocious lightning struck him.
His body trembled with fear. Physically, he was weak, unable to consume potions, never enhanced by dreamy phosphorescence—just an ordinary human. Fear was natural under such divine punishment.
But Truman's spirit was exhilarated, stirring the entire Book of Dreams.
Dreamy phosphorescence sprinkled down, enveloping his body, making him glow pure and radiant.
His eyes reflected stars, clear as the sky, with an entire Dream Heaven appearing in their depths.
In that moment, his figure became illusory, and the Sea of Dreams surged behind him.
Within the sea, countless dream bubbles rose and fell—embodying the purest hopes and most fantastical imaginations of countless hearts.
Amid the supremely terrifying lightning storm, Truman became the Dream incarnate.
At that moment, his understanding of the Book of Dreams reached a new pinnacle. He could transform into dreamy phosphorescence, dwelling within the dream ideals of countless minds.
This was an immortal concept.
A lightning storm could destroy a continent but could never extinguish humanity's longing and imagination for beauty and dreams.
The thunder annihilated everything, yet Truman stepped out from the blinding light, as if reborn.
"Congratulations, Dream," a warm, mellow voice echoed in his ears. The Ancient Sun God's gaze fell upon Truman's Dream Body.
"A bit strange…" Behind Truman, the Sea of Dreams brimmed with pure, radiant dream bubbles, dreamy phosphorescence scattering—a vision of the world's most beautiful scene.
But something strange occurred.
Truman's body began to mutate in various ways. It grew robust like a dragon's, covered in scales; his ears elongated like an elf's; his eyes turned the blood-red of the Sanguine…
Yet these weren't fixed. Demonic and even demonic wolf traits appeared on his body.
Stop!
Truman commanded himself inwardly, suppressing the dreamy phosphorescence sparked by his wild thoughts.
"I have a mythological creature form too…" Truman defined his Dream Body, a mythological creature form.
This was the result of deeply exploring the Book of Dreams. Vast amounts of dreamy phosphorescence flooded his body, causing mutations that forged the Dream Body.
When the mutations ceased, his true mythological creature form revealed itself.
He retained a human appearance, but the space behind him seemed to melt, forming a gelatinous mass tinged with dreamy hues. Within this "jelly" were countless dream bubbles.
Pop! The "jelly" began to shift, extending one dreamy tentacle after another. The tentacles, set against a starry backdrop, sparkled with radiant starlight, each tipped with a dream bubble.
This form wasn't sinister; it evoked an instinctive affinity, reflecting humanity's natural yearning for beauty.
(End of Chapter)