The Secret Code of Monsters.

Chapter 1007 Ch.1006 The Dream Weaver

The news that a certain secret technique in "dream studies" can grant one the power to create dreams is indeed priceless.

It should be noted that although most of the secret teachings of great techniques are priceless, even among the nine secret techniques, there are still variations in their quality.

The price of "Arcane Arts" has remained high (most holders will exchange them, and gold pounds are no longer very attractive to high-ring ritualists).

"Organology" is rarely circulated.

"Species science" is only partially understood by a small group within the court and has little intrinsic value: theoretical conjectures, ecological research on species, and the idea of ​​increasing the lethality of these non-human creatures by adjusting the use of "secrets"...

Would an ordinary person buy a gun that is "supposedly" capable of assassinating a god?
The ritual performers don't need it.

The next "ritual magic" became a bestseller.

Most common, least mysterious.

Then there is "theology," the theory of theories, the secrets of the path to greatness, the wounds of mortality, the principles, and the hymns of the gods.

— Equivalent to dessert after a meal.

Theorists are acceptable, but practitioners are not.

Next, "Birdsong and Beasts Walking".

Few are qualified to master this great art except for those who are ritualists of the "Great Vortex," "Horse," and "Undying."

Next is the "spiritual studies" of the "Circle of Eternal Silence".

Like "organ science," it is almost no longer available on the market.

At last.

The Craftsmen's Guild's "alchemy," and Theodore's "dream studies."

The former is generally incomprehensible to the average person, and even those who can understand it cannot do it—the latter, like "heterogeneity," is not highly valued.

At least until the rules of dreams change.

Aside from those reckless explorers, which ritual practitioner would willingly venture into dreams so frequently?

“I need to think about how to tell my boss about this—and by the way, Theodore, what about Mr. Westwick…”

"The whirlpool is still unclear."

He said.

But he planned to find a good time to tell Westevik about it.

—Oh, and then have him connect the dream weaver to you?
Looking at the confident knight who radiated 'sunlight' at all times, Roland was at a loss for words.

"That's all for now, Theodore."

Even if his newly made knight friend truly possessed the ability to create dreams, it all depended on Thomas Terry's attitude—if he returned and immediately executed those unclean 'sacrifices'... what could Roland do?

“I hope he doesn’t do that,” Thackeray said, displeased. “A person can’t be so shameless.”

“Sometimes I feel like we don’t live in the same world as you… I’ll have my friends try to sneak in… but Theodore, if they’re no longer alive…”

The knight nodded. "Then, consider it that you have fulfilled our agreement, Roland," he pointed to his face, "Do I look like an unreasonable person?"

Roland simply smiled.

He was about to take his leave when he suddenly remembered, "You haven't had time to name the secret technique yet, have you?"

Theodore's answer greatly disappointed him.

"Of course he has a name, Roland. How could he not have a name?"

Thackeray shook his head.

“That apprentice…at least he said that those who possess this power should call themselves ‘dream weavers’…what do you think?”

"It's just so-so," Roland shook his head.

The blond man shrugged. "You have something better? I don't care, it's just the name." "The Invisible Clay Hand, how about it?"

Ok…

Theodore's smile froze. He loosened his collar and slowly leaned towards the wooden table. "Let me see where the crack is..."

…………

……

Few things could surprise Enid.

At least after Roland finished his report, saying that he had chased a group of cultists yesterday, and although he lost them, he had learned a secret about dreams—Enid didn't seem surprised at all that someone could create dreams, and even made some connection to the previously widely reported 'dream in London' in the newspapers…

For example, starting today, should we focus on acquiring the secret teachings of "dream studies"?

"I really don't know what else could surprise you."

She didn't care what kind of cult members she was chasing, how long she had been chasing them, or what level of cult members they were.

“I’ll be surprised if you splash it on my skirt before I finish speaking.”

To avoid going into too much detail, I won't describe their current actions.

After burning two candles, the refreshed judge and her subordinates nestled on the sofa. Even in summer, Enid was cool to the touch, like a velvet silk comforter that was adept at maintaining a perfect fit through constant departures and reunions.

"I thought you were going to say that I'm like a whirlpool."

"What vortex?"

Enid lazily raised her index finger and scratched at the desk: "...A recent book. I guess it's written by a girl. There's a courtesan in the book, nicknamed 'Whirlpool'—the main character is a sailor on a ship...I like the metaphors she uses."

she says.

The sailor in the book is named Elo, a wanderer who always manages to survive storms. He often gets covered in perfume and sings loudly on the deck with a bottle of liquor in his hand.

He met the female protagonist in a 'garden' in the harbor.

“From beginning to end, they spent a total of five years, Roland.” Curled up in the man’s arms like a cat, the woman who was now not the judge was a woman wearing dark-colored stockings that the man liked. After a long sigh, she hung her wet bag to dry, a tin can filled with fishy smell with its lid torn open.

She told Roland, intentionally or unintentionally, the stories she had read in her new book.

The protagonist, a wanderer and sailor named Elo, after enjoying five romantic years with the female lead, falls in love with a younger, more elegant, and wealthier girl.

He abandoned the female lead, spoke ill of her indifferently, and never saw her again.

"It's so sad, isn't it?"

She wrapped her neck around Roland's long, black hair, like a cat, and pressed it against her master. In her eyes, which often overflowed with love, there was still a lingering infatuation.

"If you were the protagonist, you definitely wouldn't abandon her, right?"

Roland asked Enid softly why it wasn't 'never fall in love with that young girl'.

All I got in return was the laughter of the little animal in my arms.

“I understand you… just like I understand…” she breathed on him, “… just like I understand the torrents flowing inside my belly.”

Then, when Roland tried to catch her again, she gave up halfway, laughing as she escaped from Roland's arms and walked barefoot across the carpet.

She can be like a child at times, and like an adult at others.

Most of the time.

She kept her room spotless, waiting for its owner.

Roland couldn't do anything about Enid at this point.

"If people found out that their presiding judge was secretly reading this kind of book..."

“They dare not know,” Enid leaned back against the desk, two fingertips tracing the crimson hardcover: “The power of dreams… In my view, what is truly expensive is not the secret transmission, but the ritualist who can wield this power…”

(End of this chapter)