The Divine Armor of the Old Century（Book 1）

Chapter 157

This is an endless nightmare. No matter which door is pushed open, there lies an interminable corridor behind it, stretching on without end.

The two found themselves in a vast labyrinth, able only to charge forward in a desperate attempt to find a way out. The secret blood boiled within, yet Lloyd did not use all his strength. Things were different now, as he carried the nearly incapacitated Seryu.

Even after years of battling demons, humanity's understanding of these creatures remained scant, only scratching the surface. In the records of the Demon Hunting Order, demons had no fixed form. Their appearances were bizarre, often emerging as twisted humanoid shapes, which were the most common and frequently encountered by demon hunters.

Of course, there were also many demons with non-humanoid forms and unique abilities, such as the plant-like Gastric Grass and the current nightmare illusion Lloyd faced. This nightmare illusion was an anomaly that eroded any human within its range, causing hallucinations, inducing sleep, and eventually transforming the victim into a demon in their dreams.

The demon responsible for this anomaly was called the Dreamweaver, and only by killing it could this eerie illusion be dispelled.

"There are no hounds, no curses. It's just a demon's doing," Lloyd concluded succinctly.

Ordinary people would not know of demons, attributing such anomalies to unknown deities and curses. Seryu made incoherent sounds, clinging to Lloyd's neck, her breathing rapid. Lloyd could feel the heat of her breath against his jaw. She was like a small animal, curled up in his arms, akin to picking up a stray cat on a snowy day, except the problem was they couldn't return to a warm house. They might die in this illusory nightmare.

Lloyd felt no comfort, only intense anxiety and anger. Despite being a demon hunter, there were demons he rarely encountered, such as the Dreamweaver. He had only read about it in the Order's records and once encountered it in Endtown, where he merely fell into a dream and woke without further hallucinations.

But now, the hallucinations transcended dreams and seeped into reality, an undocumented phenomenon, leaving Lloyd feeling unfamiliar and at a loss. The real trouble wasn't Lloyd himself. With his abilities, the worst that could happen was being stuck in the hallucination without finding a way out. The constant erosion was the issue; while a demon hunter with secret blood might endure, Seryu wouldn't survive once the Florand potion wore off.

"Stay awake, Seryu! Don't fall asleep. I only have one of those damned potions." He shook her vigorously. She was drowsy, eyes half-closed.

This was a dire situation, running with Seryu down an endless path. Lloyd suddenly recalled the afterlife, an eternal struggle without peace or release. Seryu groaned in pain, struggling to hold on.

Before Lloyd could act, a sudden barking broke the silence. At the end of the corridor, a pair of crimson eyes watched him. A hound emerged from the darkness, exuding an ominous presence.

"The Hound of Baskerville..." Lloyd muttered the curse, tightening his grip on his sword.

But the hound didn't attack, merely watching from afar. Then, a cacophony arose. Something approached with rapid steps, like a flock of crows, filling the corridor with a chaotic din. The barking grew louder, countless hounds converging, their cries merging into a tidal wave.

In the endless corridor, every door simultaneously opened, and the noise clarified into frantic footsteps. Hounds poured out, charging toward Lloyd.

There was no escape. Whether advancing or retreating, hounds were everywhere. Lloyd held Seryu tightly, his mind racing. This illusion differed from his understanding; the dream was over, but the hallucination persisted. Or had Lloyd never left the dream?

Instinctively, Lloyd gripped his knight's sword. During his training with the Demon Hunting Order, he learned to recognize dreams, making escape straightforward—by killing himself.

Yet he hesitated. Was this truly a dream? What was real, and what was illusion? He remembered the hallucinations after leaving the Perpetual Pump. His mind suffered even without demonic erosion, making him misjudge reality. If this was a lingering dream, he could wake by killing himself. But if it wasn't, doing so would drag him into despair.

Or was this a dual-layered dream? A bone-chilling cold swept over him, blood freezing. No, this was wrong. Seryu fell into the dream; he faced the hallucination. Or had he been dreaming all along since speaking with Seryu?

He looked at Seryu in his arms. Was she real or an illusion? Lloyd hesitated, reality and fantasy blurring together.

"Think differently, Lloyd. You can do this," he muttered, trying to convince himself.

The hounds drew closer, leaving Lloyd little time. What if this wasn't a dream but an illusion in reality? The hallucination could only alter perception, not the actual material world. The corridor wasn't endless, just misleading his senses. Perhaps he'd been running in place.

"Seryu, live or die, this is our chance," Lloyd whispered.

Seryu didn't respond, feverish and weak. The hounds were upon them, eager for flesh. Lloyd could use purging flames to destroy them but wouldn't be able to protect Seryu simultaneously. He made a decision.

"I'll kill you," he growled at the hound with red eyes, then leaped through a window with Seryu in his arms. Shattering glass fragmented the world.

They plummeted into an abyss, gravity pulling them down. In seconds, Lloyd's sword embedded into solid ground. Feeling the blade's touch, Lloyd knew he was right. This wasn't a dream; it was a real-world hallucination. The abyss was just a backdrop. Overcoming the fear to leap had been the real challenge.

Raising his head, Lloyd found himself on a street. Lamps glowed, mist rising slowly. A giant airship floated above, steam venting. Shadows moved but didn't notice him. Behind him was Stuart's mansion, with a broken window from their escape.

No direct combat, just a quick judgment. Relief followed—what if he had killed himself thinking it was a dream? Breathing heavily, he felt a deep-seated vigilance. Lloyd doubted himself, questioning reality, his judgment, and Seryu's authenticity.

This self-doubt was the most terrifying aspect of battling demons. Cracks in his defense against fear could become fatal weaknesses.

"I am..." Lloyd repeated like a chant, his guiding star in the void. "I am Lloyd, Lloyd Holmes."

He repeated his name, imprinting it deeper, rekindling a flame in his gray-blue eyes.

"Lloyd?" Seryu looked up, her gaze watery.

"Seryu, do you remember what you were doing when I first met you?" Lloyd asked suddenly.

She blinked, confused by the question. Lloyd laughed, shaking his head.

"Such an intricate design..." he murmured, looking at his sword embedded in the ground. In its reflection, someone stood behind him.

Medanzo, resembling Lloyd, smiled at him as if summoned by the repeated name. This wasn't a dream or an illusion, but a more profound power Lloyd didn't yet understand.

"So this isn't about dreams and hallucinations, is it?" Lloyd asked.

Medanzo nodded in the reflection, their faces merging. Then, the world collapsed.

The power from the pseudo-Holy Grail shattered all interference. Cold snow swept everything away, including the girl in Lloyd's arms. He stood on an icy plain, a man on a bench watching him. Before greetings, waves shattered the ice, swallowing Lloyd.

The haunting whale song from the depths marked the collapse of the abyss that had ensnared Lloyd.