𝐈𝐧 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬 (English)

Chapter 93

Jaune didn't react with any fear to the creature's attack. He expended a little aura, waved a hand, and summoned up a wall of solid rock between them. He had the power here, and wouldn't be threatened by—

A hole opened up in the rock, and the creature surged through.

"What!?"

He fell back and kicked off, escaping the sharp slash of claws by flying into the air – only to see a rope swing out of nowhere and catch his foot. The creature hauled on it, pulling Jaune back down to the ground with a mighty crash. No pain, of course, as none of this was real.

Jaune threw out a hand and cast a ball of fire at the creature, as if he were some fantasy wizard. The creature opened its mouth and spat a ball of flame the exact same size back at him. The two collided and splashed across the area, snuffing one another out.

The bipedal, feline creature cocked its head and smiled in a human-like manner. "Curious. Isn't it?"

Jaune summed Crocea Mors as a floating sword and shot it at the cat like a bullet.

An exact replica of Crocea Mors appeared above the cat's shoulder to fire out and deflect it. Jaune summoned a hundred weapons, including replicas of Crescent Rose, Gambol Shroud and Myrtenaster.

All of which were summoned against him.

It was mimicking him.

Was that its ability? To do whatever he did? Jaune fired a ball of fire at his own feet, seeing if the cat would do the same and injure itself. It did not. Jaune was blasted away but backflipped lazily in the air, gravity having a debatable hold on him, to land back on his feet.

"Close," the cat taunted. "But not close enough. Here, let me give you an idea."

Dirt and clay rose up around it to form the shape of three Beowolves. Instead of black with bone plates, they were purple, with neon patterns in checker formations running up and down their arms. Their roars were high-pitched and staggered like an electric guitar being strangled. Their movements as they lunged were very much normal, however.

"Rarghhh!"

Salem lashed out at one with her sword and cut its head clean off. Instead of blood, confetti and sparklers popped out. Jaune simply pointed at one and caused it to explode, then picked up the other with his mind and hurled it back at the cat as Miss Goodwitch might have. The airborne Beowolf shrank and shrank until it was the size of a marble. The cat caught it in its palm and held it up. The tiny beast roared before the cat clenched its hand and crushed it.

Jaune had a sinking suspicion he knew what this was.

But, to be sure, he had to test it. He reached out with both hands and took the very environment around the creature, pulling apart with his hands and sucking the oxygen out the air. He created a vacuum, a void in space that threatened to tear the body apart.

The feline snapped its fingers – the sound echoing despite it being in a vacuum.

Air popped back into existence.

"Less of that, thank you," it said. "That was awfully rude. And ultimately quite pointless, don't you think? Our battle is a futile affair in itself. I wonder if you've started to piece together quite why. Or if you need a few more hints."

He didn't.

"You're like me. You have the same Semblance I do. You're a dream walker."

Hundreds of hands clapped in concert, an invisible audience applauding him like he'd just finished some grand performance on stage. "Bravo. Bravo," the cat mocked. "But, ah, you have the gist of it but also have a fatal lack of understanding. Not your fault, I suppose, since yours is a world of order and rules. You simply cannot fathom the existence of any other."