Chapter 1683: Dream Wist
Chapter 1683: Dream Wist
"My Lady, has the Horde found a countermeasure against the dreamscape?"
The desperate voice belonged to an Arch Lord elder of the Clayfolk Race. The Clayfolk had recently paid a steep price to uproot their entire tribe and officially join the Stoneheart Horde. After immense effort, they had finally secured a territory on the continent. Yet, before they could even gain a foothold, the cataclysm struck. Half of their most talented young, whom they had proudly brought into the Horde, were wiped out in an instant. For the Clayfolk Race, the blow was devastating. They had barely set sail before a tsunami smashed their ship to splinters.
"The dream invasion is a disaster affecting every race on the continent," Lilith replied smoothly. "As long as we stand united, we can not only resist it, but profit from it."
Her primary goal in hosting this council was exactly that: unity. She needed to lay out the dangers of the dreamscape, the methods of defense, and the potential gains. The Clayfolk elder’s question played perfectly into her hand.
Lilith raised a hand. Behind her, Dirtclaw stepped forward, reverently cradling a Stoneheart Titan idol. He placed it carefully into Lilith’s hands and bowed deeply before retreating.
"This is the idol of our continent’s Lord," Lilith announced. "Wherever this idol stands, the divine light will bless the land. The glory of the Titan King Orion will shield that domain from the dream’s interference."
She met the eyes of every leader in the hall. "Organize daily worship. Offer your faith to the idol. This will amplify its power and expand the radius of the divine light."
It was a blatant power grab. Orion, the Master of the continent, intended to harvest the faith energy of everyone present. Naturally, allied factions with their own demigod experts possessed similar methods. But the Titan continent was Orion’s domain. The visiting demigods couldn’t project their divine light across the entire landmass as Orion could. They could only protect small pockets, and if they encountered formidable nightmare horrors, even their own survival wasn’t guaranteed.
"The materials required to forge these idols are incredibly rare," Lilith continued. "For now, the Horde will only supply them to major cities. Each city is limited to purchasing exactly one. Settlements and outposts in the wilderness do not have purchasing authorization."
"However, the Horde is currently developing rare items capable of temporarily dispersing the dream mist. Once finished, they will be available to the Horde and our major allies for use in the wild."
Disaster and fortune were two sides of the same coin. The arrival of the Ascendant Plane brought catastrophe to the Titanion Realm, but for continental lords like Orion, it was a golden opportunity to harvest faith energy. The factions harboring demigod and Arch Lord experts also stood to gain immensely. At the very least, internal cohesion would skyrocket, yielding a much purer stream of faith.
"Furthermore," Lilith added, "we’ve discovered that individuals with indomitable will and immense psionic strength can, to a certain extent, resist the pull of the dream mist."
She tapped the air lightly. A cloud of pink mist bloomed, casting an illusion across the Hall of Stars.
The illusion replayed scenes of heroism from the recent disaster, extracted directly from the minds of the survivors via Lilith’s magic. It showed Dirtclaw shattering the dreamscape with sheer, fanatical willpower; an Archelder fighting through slaughter and sorrow, breaking the nightmare with unyielding defiance; the giant Fergus piercing the dream with a single thrust of his spear; the Storm-Ursines Vulkan punching his way out of the illusion to protect his family.
"Gentlemen, fortune and disaster are intertwined. Behind every catastrophe lies an opportunity." Lilith amplified her aura, her voice resonating with a subtle, enchanting vibration—a charm unique to succubi.
"We must unite. We must pool our specialties to survive this. Human technology, Dwarves forging, Succubus intellect, Elven magic, and the innate dream immunities of certain Undead... we must combine our strengths to create new methods and artifacts to counter the dream."
"Moreover, the dream mist itself is a unique, absorbable power. It can act as a catalyst for breaking through our limits."
The illusion shifted again. This time, it displayed Godfrey. Without relying on the heritage artifacts of the Eight Great Knights, he broke through his bottleneck within the nightmare itself, ascending to become a Virtue Knight.
"This holds true even for demigod experts," Lilith noted, glancing at the few demigods in attendance. They represented allied factions, and knowing when to stay quiet, they simply bowed their heads in thought. They knew the effects of the dream mist on a demigod far better than Lilith did. They even knew deeper secrets that she was entirely unaware of.
"My Lady, is there truly no way to spare a few more idols?" pleaded a senior merchant of the Seeker faction.
Though the Seekers only maintained one official building in Stoneheart City, their network spanned the entire continent. They operated numerous wilderness outposts—vital logistical hubs packed with personnel. With the two Ascendant Planes colliding, Lilith’s words meant the wilds were no longer safe. Being dragged into the dreamscape at any given moment was a nightmare worse than the dream itself for the Seekers’ operations.
Lilith shook her head. Officially, it was a firm denial. Privately, the Stoneheart Horde would undoubtedly funnel resources to the Seekers, but she couldn’t show favoritism in the open. The senior merchant was one of their own; his plea was a calculated move to reinforce Lilith’s stance. It was a smart play.
"If you ask me, this is a blessing!" spoke up a cloaked mercenary from the observer’s gallery. In the eyes of the Mercenary Alliance, increased danger meant booming business. Many veteran mercenaries had survived far harsher environments. The dreamscape posed a lethal threat, but the chance to break through bottlenecks was an irresistible lure. For some of the older warriors stationed in the Titanion Realm, the dream mist had already provided exactly that.
"With the wilderness compromised, the cost of all external operations will skyrocket," the mercenary reasoned. "People will need more guards and more escorts. This is a massive opportunity to stimulate the economy of the Stoneheart Horde and the entire continent. My Lady, this is far from a bad thing! The rougher the seas, the higher the price of fish!"
Lilith nodded, acknowledging his point. But the reality was far grimmer. According to the intelligence Orion had shared, if the dream invasion intensified, the nightmare horrors would begin manifesting randomly in the Titanion Realm. When that happened, forget about operating in the wilderness—everyone would be forced to cower in the cities, praying beneath Orion’s divine light.
"My Lady, we Undead can provide the Horde with Phantom Bone Skulls," an Arch Lord subordinate of Arthas announced. "Until the skull completely shatters, it will stave off the dream’s pull."
"My Lady, the Death-Soul Race can supply Soul-Anchoring Orbs. They offer temporary resistance as well."
One offer led to another. In a matter of minutes, the Stoneheart Horde secured a stockpile of artifacts capable of resisting the dreamscape. These items would serve as invaluable reference material for engineering new, more effective tools.
This, of course, was another primary objective of the council. Under Lilith’s direction, the assembly brainstormed defense strategies and drafted temporary emergency protocols. In the face of annihilation, everyone understood the simple truth: contribute now, or die together.