Chapter 172: Prophetic Dreamscape

Chapter 172: The Dream of Foreknowledge

Li Wei located Troeska’s dream bubble.

He entered it with great care.

The stronger one was, the more easily they would sense anomalies within a dream.

Troeska, though merely a blacksmith, was still a fifth-rank transcendent—

not a warrior by trade, yet no less perceptive than any other who had crossed into the extraordinary.

Inside the dream bubble reigned chaos.

Troeska’s dream had not yet begun; the bubble itself was newly formed, fragile, on the verge of shattering.

Li Wei caught fleeting images flickering through the haze,

gathering fragments until he could piece together enough to shape the dream.

It was difficult, yes—but he had practiced this before.

Now, his hands moved with quiet confidence, though the work remained intricate.

Gradually, the formless void brightened.

A garden emerged from the mist.

Troeska’s figure appeared, slowly solidifying, as if drawn from memory.

He looked around at the familiar scenery, and emotions welled up within him—

emotions that Li Wei felt like ripples in a dark pool, swelling into waves.

The garden refined itself, petal by petal, leaf by leaf.

Until at last, Li Wei saw her—Mina, the one Troeska longed for.

He shaped her likeness from the depths of Troeska’s heart.

Troeska sensed something. He turned—and there she stood, Mina, beneath the flowering trees. His breath caught.

Then, as if released from restraint, the entire dream bubble began to rebuild itself, swiftly, autonomously.

Li Wei ceased his efforts, stepping back.

Now it was Troeska’s subconscious weaving the tale, restoring every forgotten detail.

Time folded backward.

He returned to that day decades past.

Mina, once a mere silhouette, now became flesh and soul—the woman he remembered, radiant, alive.

From here on, the dream was no longer Li Wei’s to command.

It belonged entirely to Troeska’s buried mind.

Li Wei had been but a spark, a guide to open the gate.

Now he stirred his Great Dream-Wandering Art, gently rousing Troeska from the borderland between sleep and waking.

Awareness returned.

Troeska gazed upon Mina, tears brimming in his eyes.

“Troeska, why are you crying?” Mina asked, startled.

“Mina… it’s been so long.”

He pulled her close. She flushed crimson, shy and flustered.

“Troeska, let go of me!”

“No,” he whispered. “Never again will I let you go.”

She struggled briefly—then her arms slipped around him, holding him tightly.

They listened to each other’s heartbeat, two souls reunited in silence.

Li Wei withdrew quietly,

leaving them alone in the dream’s tender dusk.

Everything here flowed from Troeska’s subconscious.

Even Mina—her words, her touch, her smile—was born of his deepest memories, his unspoken longing.

Every gesture, every response, shaped by the truth he carried within.

They spoke through dawn, through twilight, through the deep hush of midnight.

As if time had granted them an eternity to say what had gone unsaid.

In the late hours, Troeska began to apologize—over and over.

And from their conversation, Li Wei learned the story of Mina and Troeska.

In his youth, Troeska had been a prodigy among blacksmiths.

He and Mina had loved deeply, passionately, for years.

Then, seeking mastery beyond his village, he left to study afar—

promising to return and build a life with her.

But after years of training, fame won, skills honed—he came home to tragedy.

A year after his departure, Mina had died—attacked by a wild beast while traveling outside the village.

The news shattered him.

He drowned in regret: *If only I had stayed, she would still be alive.*

That guilt became a knot in his soul, unyielding even after thirty years.

Though he later met Willi’s mother, married her, lived beside her—

in the quiet of night, when the world slept, it was always Mina’s face he saw.

He had spent decades wishing—praying—for a chance to turn back time, to undo the sorrow.

Now, hearing his apologies, Mina cradled his head, brushing away his tears.

“It’s all right,” she murmured, gentle as moonlight. “I never hated you.”

“And if I died… I died loving you.”

Her words were true.

When the villagers found her, she was near death, broken and bleeding—

yet her lips still whispered his name.

That was how she passed: clinging to love, even as life slipped away.

And that was why Troeska could never move on.

Thirty years of silence, of grief, of silent prayers—

all led to this moment, this dream.

Troska gazed at Mina, tears turning to laughter.

“Mina, you’re still so gentle.”

“How I wish you could stay with me forever, walk beside me all the way…”

When Li Wei learned what had transpired between Troska and Mina,

and seeing that the dream bubble had stabilized,

he quietly withdrew from the dream, unwilling to disturb the enamored couple.

Now, Li Wei’s mental reach extended twenty meters.

His field of vision had expanded greatly.

He could see far more dream bubbles now.

Standing above the River of Dreams, he watched the countless bubbles drifting and bobbing in the current.

Suddenly, one caught his eye.

“This is… the Lord’s Manor?”

Within a single bubble, the image of Maple City’s lord’s manor shimmered into view.

Li Wei’s heart stirred slightly.

He activated the Great Dream Soaring Art and plunged inside.

He didn’t know whose dream this was.

One thing was certain—the dreamer must be intimately familiar with the manor.

Otherwise, the interior wouldn’t appear so vivid, so real.

Li Wei materialized in a shadowed corner of the manor, cloaked in darkness.

Guards patrolled every corridor.

Elite doorways were guarded by the lord’s personal sentinels—transcendent warriors.

Yet within the dream, they moved like puppets, mere scenery.

Still, if the dreamer’s suspicion was triggered, these props would instantly awaken into true combatants,

capable of inflicting real harm upon intruders.

Boom!

The main gate burst open. A mounted messenger dashed forward, brandishing a letter, sprinting wildly into the manor.

As he ran, he shouted, “Good news! Good news!”

“The Lord has been elevated to Marquis!”

…

The cry echoed through every hall and courtyard.

Along the way, not a single guard or sentinel reacted.

Only the messenger raced onward, deeper into the manor, until he stood before the lord himself, delivering the letter.

From deep within the manor, Li Wei heard Otsu’s laughter ring out.

“Hahahaha! Truly magnificent news!”

“Bring forth three hundred gold coins as reward!”

“You’ve brought me such joyous tidings—I hereby appoint you my Left Banner Guardian. May you continue bringing me good fortune!”

“Many thanks, my Lord!”

Hearing this, Li Wei understood at once.

He felt a strange emptiness.

The dreamer was the messenger.

What kind of life had he lived, to make even his dreams so restrained?

To dare dream only of three hundred gold coins and a title like Left Banner Guardian?

Dreams! One should be bolder.

Strike it rich overnight. Become the wealthiest man in the nation.

If you can’t dream it, then when will you ever dare to imagine?

(End of Chapter)