Chapter 806: Departure

The crowd that had gathered like mourners at a wake finally dispersed.

Gawain exhaled deeply, stealing a glance at Amber resting quietly in the nearby recliner, eyes closed in repose. Then he looked toward Tyr, curled up in the corner of the room, waiting hungrily for some “spiritual nourishment.” Steeling himself, he began to focus once more, settling his thoughts and preparing to enter the mind network of the Sleeper.

…

In the Granhold territory, at Riftstone Keep, inside Patty’s bedroom.

The blazing sun had completely dipped below the mountains on the far side, and faint starlight was just beginning to shimmer on the distant horizon. Bright magical crystal lamps lit the room, their glow joining the courtyard and street lamps outside to push back the deepening night. Under this gentle illumination, Patty sat at her own desk, absorbed in a neatly bound, simply printed textbook.

The material wasn’t difficult—barely elementary level by Imperial Academy standards—but Patty had missed so much schooling that only now was she beginning to read these basics.

Still, she was happy. To sit quietly in a chair and read without the constant pain and spasms that had plagued her for years felt like a blessing she had never dared to imagine.

A soft breeze drifted in from the vent in the corner, stirring the strands of hair by her cheek. Patty looked up, sensing something, but saw no one nearby.

Lowering her eyelids, she pressed her lips together in a small frown.

It had been a long time since she’d had that impossible dream—no more visits from the kind “Selina Sister,” no more encounters with the irritable red-haired uncle, nor the tall man who called himself “Uncle Celsi.”

All those dreamlike fragments seemed to have shattered along with the fog of her recent years, fading into the blurry recesses of her recovering mind. Her mother had told her those were hallucinations caused by the pain-relieving ointments, and as her body healed, the strange, lingering dream would fade away—just like the wild fantasies of childhood, because Patty… was finally growing up.

Yet sometimes, she still thought of those dreamlike places—the beautiful streets and gardens, the warm faces of those uncles and aunts. She never told her mother, but she longed to return to that dream world, to see them again.

Because the last time she dreamed, she forgot to say goodbye.

But she knew her mother would worry, so she kept it all locked inside.

Another breeze stirred, this time from the opposite direction of the vent. Patty quickly turned her head, but still saw no one.

Only in the corner of her eye, reflected faintly in the opposite window, did she think she glimpsed a familiar, warm lantern light. But when she rubbed her eyes and looked again, it was gone.

…

A soft golden glow of runes flowed like water across the broad surface of the round table. In this dim, decorative light, figures began to materialize around the table.

Compared to the last High Archbishop Council meeting, several seats were noticeably empty. The attending archbishops glanced at the vacant chairs but said nothing.

Almost everyone’s gaze soon settled on the seat beside Selina Gelph’s avatar.

A special “participant” sat there openly, smiling as they met the archbishops’ eyes.

“Everyone’s punctual,” Gawain said with a smile, scanning the familiar faces around the table. Archbishop Yuri sat several seats apart from him, looking much healthier than last time. Archbishop Magnan was across the table, lips pressed tight, clearly not ready to let down his guard—something Gawain found reassuring.

That was to be expected. You can’t just bury everything in the subconscious. Mindstorms are for defense, not for constant use.

The atmosphere was a bit tense. Even though this was the second appearance of the Outer Wanderer, the archbishops still weren’t quite comfortable with the idea of a “large neutral wild entity suddenly becoming part of the leadership.” They exchanged uneasy glances, some awkwardly greeting Gawain, while others forced polite smiles, unsure how to respond to an Outer Wanderer without seeming rattled.

Gawain didn’t mind. He had anticipated this. After brief greetings, he scanned the room and, unsurprisingly, noticed a few absences.

“Looks like some are missing,” he said calmly, looking up at the floating Megal III. “Should we wait?”

“They have unfortunately succumbed to Upper Narrator corruption,” the starlit form of Megal III replied slowly, its voice steady. “They are no longer fit to appear here.”

Gawain nodded casually. “Ah, that’s unfortunate.”

Even among the High Archbishop Council, some had been marked for purging… Megal III’s internal cleansing was clearly thorough. Was this preparation for the upcoming sect reorganization and core transfer?

To achieve this in just a few days, the Dream Pope’s abilities were impressive.

Reflecting briefly, Gawain shook his head and steered the conversation toward the Upper Narrator corruption.

“Speaking of which, Selina, did those runes I gave you last time have any effect?”

“They worked surprisingly well,” Selina replied immediately, her eyes shining with unhidden joy. “Those contaminated comrades from Sandbox One calmed quickly after seeing the runes. We perform ‘rune pacification’ every six hours now. Even the most severely corrupted have stopped praying to the Upper Narrators. The quarantine will continue for a while, but if no relapses occur after the event, we can declare them cured.”

“That’s good,” Gawain said cheerfully. “See? The Upper Narrators can be dealt with.”

The “runes” he mentioned were the kraken runes he had given Selina during their last psychic projection—a pattern traced from Tyr’s sea monster form.

Though many mysteries remained, and Cecil’s rune masters hadn’t fully deciphered them, Jenny’s research team had identified several effective rune combinations and applied them in practice. They had been used to treat Daniel’s mental illness, incorporated into the “Mind Protection System,” and proven effective against pseudo-divine entities. Now, these deep-sea runes had shown they could counteract Upper Narrator mental contamination.

Of course, those cured might experience brief bouts of squid-like mania or become overly energetic and optimistic for a time—side effects, but far preferable to becoming a mindless cultist or a sacrificial vessel for the Upper Narrators.

Honestly, Gawain always thought the kraken runes’ “let’s go dig up a giant squid” effect was itself a kind of divine mental contamination. After all, there was evidence that those deep-sea fish’s “racial totem” had stolen the Stormlord’s divine seat, and their sea monster patterns clearly related to storm authority. But their mental contamination was so absurdly cheerful that sometimes Gawain couldn’t tell if it was evil god or comic god. One thing was certain: being a bit more upbeat never hurt anyone.

Maybe that’s the idea—only mental contamination can fight mental contamination.

The archbishops listened quietly as Gawain and Selina discussed purifying Upper Narrator corruption. No one mentioned the archbishops who had been absent today, declared “Upper Narrator cultists,” nor the “pollution nodes” that had vanished from the mind network in recent days. Everyone tacitly understood—

Some who were corrupted would return after purification; some who were absent today were truly gone for good.

“Now, back to the main topic,” Gawain said, wrapping up the rune discussion and turning to Megal III. “Are you ready for the next operation in Sandbox One?”

“All preparations are complete,” the starlit form undulated gently. “Including multi-level monitoring and support within the network, as well as dream shielding and guiding personnel in the real world. Regarding personnel entering Sandbox One… learning from last time, we will no longer send ordinary clerics. Besides you, only three others will enter.”

As Megal III finished, three figures around the table rose.

Gawain wasn’t surprised to see Selina, Yuri, and Magnan—the archbishops who had personally explored Phantom Town and handled Upper Narrator affairs—once again chosen for the expedition.

Daniel was not selected, which didn’t surprise Gawain. As the mind network’s security chief, Daniel’s role inside Sandbox One would be limited. He would likely remain in the main network, providing technical support to ensure stability and prevent unexpected data contamination.

“A four-person team… fewer people, fewer complications,” Gawain nodded, unconcerned about his teammates. “Anything else we should know?”

A woman in a white robe, her demeanor somewhat somber, stood. She appeared to be the technical lead.

“As agreed, once you enter Sandbox One, we will partially restore the system’s time iteration. The time flow inside Sandbox One will accelerate to ten times that of the real world—this is the highest rate the sandbox’s safety system can support without worsening contamination.”

As she finished, Daniel, clad in a black robe, also stood and added, “During this period, the main network will allocate all remaining computing resources to maintain the stability of the consciousness layers. This maximizes containment of contamination within the sandbox. In the real world, this support can last for one day…”

Gawain nodded knowingly. “Makes sense—by speeding up time, you’re giving us ten days of operational time inside the sandbox. No matter how much chaos we cause in there, you’ll do everything possible to keep the outside world safe.”

The somber woman nodded. “Exactly. You can act freely.”

Gawain asked, “And if I don’t resolve the Upper Narrators within ten days, or if the mission fails?”

The woman’s expression hardened. “We will destroy all brain servant nodes. All clerics connected to Sandbox One will immediately commit self-termination to sever dream transmission. We will do everything possible to prevent the Upper Narrators’ arrival. As for you… we believe you will find a way to escape.”

“I have a way to get out of here…” Gawain said, his gaze sweeping over the three men around the round table, including Magnum. “But those three…”

“I’ve already written my will,” Yuri said calmly.

“Damn it!” Magnum’s loud voice immediately rang out. “We agreed we didn’t need that kind of thing!”

Yuri glanced at the short red-haired man. “If you need to write one, I can lend you paper and pen—in the real world.”

“Damn it, I don’t need that!!”

Gawain ignored the two archbishops who seemed to be on good terms and turned to Selina beside him. “Have you said your goodbyes?”

“We met once,” Selina replied calmly.

Gawain nodded. “Alright then, let’s get going.”

(End of chapter)