章節 50: Sweet Dreams
"Aurelia… why are you here?" Acier couldn't hide the surprise in her voice as she and Sebastian stepped into his study. Dorothy had called them back roughly two hours after they'd parted, only for them to find Aurelia seated at the table.
And it wasn't just Aurelia's presence that caught her off guard. Amara, Alfred, Jeeves, Hilda, Nebra—holding Noelle—and Solid were all gathered there as well.
Sebastian peeked over Acier's shoulder, shooting a questioning look at Dorothy. His words came out more like a statement than a question.
"You called them here?"
Dorothy nodded, but before she could explain, Aurelia cut in.
"She did." Her voice drew everyone's attention as she continued. "She called us all here and gave us a rundown of what you're planning."
Aurelia narrowed her eyes at the couple, her tone sharp. "But I still want to know what happened. What brought this on? Why are you digging into your own minds and pasts? Are you fighting again or something?"
Acier's expression darkened as she fought off a twitch. "Please don't curse our marriage, Sister. Nothing of the sort is happening."
The fact that Acier didn't address Aurelia by name made her irritation clear. She wasn't pleased with the question—or at least with how it had been phrased. She deliberately ignored the looks of relief that flashed across Nebra's and Solid's faces at her response.
"Ack." Amara's hoarse cough cut through the tension, pulling everyone's attention to her. She raised a trembling hand and pointed it at Sebastian.
"What are you trying to do…? I don't like the idea of my daughter having a stranger poking through her mind."
Her gaze flicked to Francois, the look on her face saying, No offense.
Francois gave a polite nod. "None taken."
It would be stranger if anyone was comfortable letting a loved one lower their guard like this. Allowing an outsider to probe through one's mind was dangerous—leaving them completely vulnerable. If Francois had ill intentions, he could cripple them, kill them, or even take control of them, turning them into puppets.
Of course, Francois wasn't that kind of person. But no one could give him the full benefit of the doubt, not entirely. The temptation to enslave the leaders of a royal house wasn't something the average person could ignore without some shadow of a dark thought stirring in their soul.
Although Amara often mused inwardly about the idea of House Francois delving into her daughter's mind to uncover the root of Acier's unhealthy obsession with Sebastian, that was nothing more than a fleeting, darkly comical thought. It wasn't something Amara would ever seriously entertain—she would never put her daughter in a vulnerable position.
The worry and concern she felt were evident on her face as she locked eyes with Sebastian.
Sebastian folded his arms at Amara's probing and sighed, ready to give his mother-in-law a reluctant but acceptable answer. However, Acier silenced him by pressing her index finger to his lips.
Turning her attention to her mother and sister, Acier smiled. "If Dorothy has already given you the rundown, then you should know this is between Sebastian and me."
She resisted the urge to call him Sebby in front of Francois. Not that Sebastian would have minded—he actually felt more awkward hearing her call him by his actual name these days. There was something forced and unnatural about it when she said Sebastian, though she seemed unaware of his thoughts.
Her smile didn't falter as she continued. "This is a private matter between my husband and me. We don't need to explain our reasoning or thoughts to anyone else."
Amara and Aurelia's eyebrows twitched at her words, while Alfred, Hilda, and Jeeves—the three servants—tried to shrink into the background, minimizing their presence in the room.
Acier crossed her arms and spoke again in her sweet voice, though a hint of annoyance slipped through.
"Now I'll ask again: Mother, Sister, why are you two here?"
Her gaze shifted to the servants. "And you as well?"
"It's because I need them for the spell!" Dorothy shot up from her chair, raising her arm like a guilty child caught in the act. Sweat beaded on her forehead as she blurted out the confession.
Acier's sharp expression softened as she turned to Dorothy. Her voice became genuinely sweet, almost tender.
"Dorothy, honey, could you explain?"
Amara and Aurelia's brows twitched simultaneously. What are these blatant double standards?!
Dorothy let out a relieved breath, placing her hands on her hips and regaining her composure. She even looked a bit smug as she spoke.
"I've figured it out—how to do exactly what Dad asked!" She nodded toward the five in question. "And they're going to play a big role!"
Sebastian narrowed his eyes, scratching his chin as he mulled it over. To connect others' subconscious…?
Amara, Aurelia, Alfred, Hilda, and Jeeves had all been present in some capacity since the very beginning of Sebastian's and Acier's relationship. The first four especially had seen it unfold closely. Their perspectives would provide exactly the kind of insight Sebastian needed to piece together a complete picture of how their bond had formed.
The issue was… Dorothy shouldn't have known that.
Sebastian turned his attention to Nozel, raising an eyebrow at his eldest, who sat beside Dorothy.
"Were you the one who suggested she summon them?"
Nozel gave a cool nod. He had.
Not long after Dorothy's sudden "moment of realization," she'd asked him who had seen the most of their parents' relationship. Besides himself and his late grandfather, these five were the names that had come to mind.
Sebastian had been little more than a ghost in Nebra's and Solid's lives until recently. They knew little of their parent's bond and dynamic. Over the past few years, however, Nozel had seen more of Sebastian than almost anyone else, even their mother. They had met frequently as Nozel began his upper education and prepared to take on his role as heir.
Nozel, more than anyone, understood the shared connections that had shaped Sebastian's and Acier's lives. These five had been constant presences in their parents' story—at least until Amara and Aurelia had moved into House Vermillion.
That didn't negate all the time before that, though, when Amara and Aurelia had spent significant moments with Sebastian, whether intentionally or not. And those earlier years were what concerned Sebastian most.
A quiet moment passed before Acier caught on to what Dorothy was trying to do. Ignoring her mother and sister entirely, she gave an apologetic look to the three senior servants of House Silva. The servants responded with short, respectful bows, acknowledging her unspoken sentiment.
Amara and Aurelia's expressions darkened further as they shot Acier pointed, unamused looks—looks she dismissed without a second thought.
Turning back to Dorothy, Acier smiled warmly. "Well done, honey." Her head swiveled toward Francois, who sat across from Dorothy. She dipped into a graceful curtsy.
"And thank you as well, Lord Francois. I'm sure this wouldn't have been possible without your expertise and professional input."
Francois instantly flushed, scrambling out of his seat and waving his hands as if to ward off the compliment. A Duchess curtsying to someone of his rank? It was enough to make his heart race in panic. But more than that, he couldn't accept credit that wasn't his.
"N-no, Lady Acier, absolutely not!" he stammered. "T-this has nothing to do with me… this was all thanks to Miss Unsworth!"
"Hmm?" Acier straightened, her gaze shifting back to Dorothy. Only now did she seem to notice Dorothy's smug, almost gleeful expression.
It was as if Dorothy's nose had grown an inch with pride as Francois continued.
"We were all completely lost—no idea where to even begin with Lord Silva's and your request. I was, quite frankly, ready to give up. But Miss Unsworth, under what I can only describe as a sudden stroke of genius, came up with a viable method to make your wish a reality."
Acier and Sebastian stiffened almost imperceptibly. Sebastian coughed into his fist and turned to Dorothy.
"You said 'sudden'—as if the idea came to you out of nowhere?"
Dorothy, hands still firmly planted on her hips, nodded proudly and threw up a playful peace sign.
"Hehe, this is what we call enlightenment." My genius, it's almost frightening!
Although Sebastian and Acier had anticipated this possibility, seeing their suspicions come to life still sent a chill down their spines. The idea of having their lives and destinies manipulated was no pleasant thought, though they masked their unease behind stony, impassive expressions.
Fortunately, the attention didn't linger on them for long, as it shifted to the Silva heir.
"Clap, clap, clap!" Nozel smiled fondly at his fiance, encouraging the moment by offering a slow round of applause, clearly stroking Dorothy's ego further.
Solid blinked, baffled by the sudden display. Are we clapping now? After a moment's hesitation, he joined in.
"Clap, clap, clap!"
The room stilled for a moment before Noelle began giggling in Nebra's arms.
"Aga… aga… aga!" She squealed happily at Dorothy and slapped her chubby baby hands together in an attempt to mimic the clapping.
Apparently, that was the signal everyone had been waiting for. Francois and the servants joined in with polite applause. Even Amara and Aurelia exchanged a reluctant glance before adding their own slow claps.
Dorothy was absolutely on cloud nine, her face flushed—not from embarrassment, but from the sheer satisfaction of basking in the praise.
Acier caught Sebastian's eye and sent him a silent message. You were right.
Sebastian nodded back at her. Both of them carefully masked their pity as their scrutinizing gazes landed on Dorothy.
Honey, that was probably not your idea, Acier thought.
Unable to entirely reign on Dorothy's parade, Sebastian decided it was time to move on. He coughed into his fist and echoed Acier's words. "Well done, Dorothy."
Dorothy flushed even brighter, practically glowing as the applause came to an abrupt halt. Everyone stopped in unison—everyone except Noelle, who continued clapping blissfully, oblivious to the silence.
"Aga! Aga! …aga?" The baby's clapping slowed as she noticed everyone watching her. After a moment, she seemed to decide she'd had her fill and stuffed her tiny hands into her mouth instead.
Sebastian exhaled quietly, folding his arms behind his back as he addressed Dorothy again.
"Dorothy, why don't you give your mother and me a rundown of that plan of yours?"
Dorothy hesitated, then smiled. She moved to stand behind the chair she'd previously occupied and gestured for Nozel to do the same.
"Mom, Dad, why don't you sit down first?"
Sebastian and Acier didn't argue. Sebastian reclaimed his seat, Nozel standing dutifully behind him, while Acier settled into hers with Dorothy taking her place at her back.
But Dorothy had other plans. After a moment, she strolled away from her mother-in-law, rounding the table and making her way to the large window behind Sebastian's desk. Without a word, she slid into his chair, slouching back as though she owned the place.
Sebastian's mouth parted in stunned silence as his daughter-in-law made herself comfortable. He inched forward, about to speak, but no words came. Is she serious right now?
And then she kicked it up a notch—literally. Dorothy propped her legs up on his desk, casually shoving stacks of neatly arranged papers aside. His fingers twitched as he resisted the urge to say something. Instead, he placed his hand over his mouth, feigning deep thought to hide the quiver of his lips.
Sebastian wasn't obsessive, but he did have a certain… system. Why is it so hard not to scream? Dorothy's actions tested the limits of his restraint, and the stifled laughter of his family didn't help.
Thankfully, Dorothy broke the silence, twirling a strand of her short hair around her finger as she addressed the room. "Alright. Let's make sure we're all on the same page here." Her tone was as casual as her posture. "Mom and Dad want to relive their memories from their first meeting to about two weeks ago, right?"
Everyone nodded—even Noelle, who probably had no idea what was going on but clearly didn't want to be left out.
Dorothy turned to Francois. "To make that happen, we've enlisted Lord Francois." She gestured dramatically to the reserved mage seated nearby. "He'll use his Memory Magic to dig up and piece together those buried and likely imperfect memories."
Then she pointed to herself. "Meanwhile, I'll use my Dream Magic to take those core memories and weave them into a dream Mom and Dad can relive. Understand?"
The room nodded again, though Amara and Aurelia blinked at Dorothy in surprise. So that's what her magic is called.
Nebra, Solid, Hilda, and Jeeves didn't bat an eye. They'd seen Dorothy's magic in action plenty of times since she'd entered House Silva. In fact, Dorothy had taken Nebra and Solid into Glamour World to "play" on more than one occasion, leaving the siblings-in-law thoroughly impressed. It was no wonder they'd warmed up to her so quickly.
Sensing the duo's gaze, Dorothy flashed them a smile before addressing Aurelia and Amara.
"Aunt Aurelia, Grandmother, we can discuss the full extent of my magic another time. But for now, you need to know one thing: one of my abilities allows me to pull others into my dream."
She paused, letting that sink in. "An endless, infinite space where I can essentially do as I please."
The two blinked again, nodding stiffly as Dorothy's smile widened—though it quickly turned serious.
"However, I'm not omnipotent in that space, and Glamour World has its limits. Its inherent purpose is to lull people to sleep, which is… a bit of a problem here."
Aurelia raised a brow. "Why?"
Dorothy folded her hands on the desk, her expression grave. "Because falling asleep in Glamour World means entering eternal sleep. So naturally, I can't let Mom and Dad fall asleep there unless I want to kill them."
"Oh." The pair blinked, faces blank as realization dawned.
Dorothy nodded with a sigh. "Exactly."
"Because of this, I originally assumed my trump card—my greatest spell and ability—was crippled or useless, leaving me with no way to accomplish what Mom and Dad were asking." Dorothy's voice softened as she glanced down. After all, without Glamour World, I'm pretty much useless.
"But…" Her lips curved into a playful smirk as she lifted her gaze. "...I realized that wasn't the case."
The room fell silent, everyone waiting for her to continue.
Dorothy rested her hands in her lap, speaking with a light, casual tone. "You've all seen me do something like this before, haven't you?"
She snapped her fingers, and the ink bottle on Sebastian's desk vanished in a swirl of purple and blue hues.
Sebastian's jaw tightened ever so slightly, his teeth grinding in silent protest, but the others nodded in recognition.
Dorothy spread her arms, her knowing smile growing wider. "Where did it go?"
"To Glamour World!" Solid called out excitedly, drawing a satisfied nod from Dorothy.
"And what does that signify?" she prompted, her gaze sweeping the room.
A few blank stares greeted her, but Nozel—who already knew the answer—spoke up in her stead. "It means your spell, Glamour World, isn't a creation-type spell."
"Exactly," Dorothy said, her smile widening as Nozel continued.
"You're not creating it from scratch every time you pull someone into your dream. Glamour World exists as a separate space, and your spell merely grants you access to it and control over it."
"Precisely!" Dorothy clapped her hands together. "I hadn't thought about it before, but the fact that I can transport things into—" she snapped her fingers, and the ink bottle reappeared on Sebastian's desk, perfectly intact—"and out of Glamour World, even when I'm not inside it or actively using the spell, proves it's always there. Always existing. Always active."
"Honey…" Acier's voice was soft, her thin smile patient but curious. "Where are you going with this?"
Dorothy's eyes sparkled with excitement. "It means…" She paused for effect, her grin turning smug. "I don't have to be inside Glamour World, to use its abilities, be it for myself or for anyone else."
To demonstrate, she snapped her fingers again. A swirling vortex of pink and purple hues appeared, but this time, instead of something vanishing or reappearing, the mist cleared to form a window of sorts.
Through the translucent screen, everyone could see it—Glamour World in all its fantastical, surreal glory. Random objects of varying shapes and sizes floated through the endless space, some resembling ordinary household items, others like they'd been plucked from a child's imagination.
"This is Glamour World's current state," Dorothy explained, her voice ringing with authority as her gaze lingered on Aurelia and Amara. The mother-daughter pair exchanged a glance before nodding, their doubts seemingly quelled.
Dorothy pointed to a massive floating teddy bear within the dream realm. "This bear is something I created. It's not a physical object from our world. So normally, even if I brought it into reality, it would dissipate immediately."
As if on cue, the bear floated through the cloudy threshold, crossing from Glamour World into the office.
Noelle's eyes lit up as she reached out from Nebra's arms. "Fwuffy!"
But before she could grab it, the bear bulged and burst into countless drops of pink and purple light, raining colors across the room.
Noelle squealed in delight, clapping her tiny hands as Nebra chuckled, pinching the girl's cheeks affectionately.
Dorothy didn't miss a beat. "That's how it usually works," she continued, licking her lips thoughtfully. "When I'm outside Glamour World, all I can do is summon physical objects from it into this world." She gestured to the dissipating sparkles. "And when I'm inside Glamour World, I can't interact with or affect the outside world unless I teleport back out."
She raised a finger, her tone turning mischievous. "In other words, about 90% of my abilities are tied to Glamour World. So uptill now I thought that meant unless I'm in Glamour World, I can't do much at all."
A pause, her grin growing wider as her eyes gleamed with excitement. "But!" Dorothy's voice rose with renewed energy. "I've figured out a work-around."
Dorothy gestured back to the window, and everyone turned their eyes to it. A new figure came into view—petite, purple-haired, and wearing the same witch hat as Dorothy.
It was another Dorothy!
Except this one's eyes were closed, with a bubble of snot comically inflating and deflating from her nose.
Dorothy smirked at the looks of shock on her aunt's and grandmother's faces, waving them off dismissively. "Relax, this is just a clone I imagined into existence during my last trip to Glamour World."
They nodded stiffly, though their racing hearts suggested they weren't entirely "relaxed" yet.
"I've given this sleeping clone authority to lord over Glamour World in my absence," Dorothy continued, her tone casual, "until I return and decide whether to dispel her or… unimagine her from existence."
"Now!" Dorothy spread her arms dramatically, like a magician about to dazzle the crowd. "You must be wondering why on Earth I would do that. What could I possibly gain from creating such a thing, right?"
"Yes, yes, yes," everyone groaned in unison. "Please get on with it."
Nozel scowled, shooting disapproving looks at the group for their lack of decorum, while Dorothy flushed, coughing into her sleeve in an attempt to recover.
"Ahem," she cleared her throat. "Anyway, getting to the point…"
"With both a 'me' existing in the real world and a 'me' lording over Glamour World, I—the real me—can act as a beacon and bridge between the two realms. This way, my clone can channel Glamour World's powers into the real world."
"Like so."
She pointed back to the window. Everyone watched as the clone's eyes snapped open, causing a collective stiffening of shoulders.
But as they registered the clone's clouded, vacant gaze, they relaxed—somewhat.
The real Dorothy scratched her head sheepishly. "I didn't dare replicate a complete version of myself to control Glamour World. It's not that I don't trust myself, but, well…" She trailed off before waving her hand vaguely. "You never know. What if one day, it gets corrupted? Or attached to life? Or, God forbid, drunk on power and tries to take Glamour World from me?"
The room froze.
Solid fiddled with his thumbs nervously before muttering under his breath, though loud enough for everyone to hear, "That sounds scary."
Sebastian nodded subtly, thinking to himself, Right you are, my boy, right you are. The whole setup reminded him a little too much of some Xianxia stories where clones usurped the main body's identity and power.
Dorothy waved off Solid's concern with a playful grin. "It's only a possibility—one that'll never actually happen."
Please don't jinx yourself, my dear daughter… Sebastian cringed inwardly.
"Anyway, back to the screen!" Dorothy clapped her hands to refocus the group's attention.
The clone snapped its fingers, and once again, the giant teddy bear materialized inside Glamour World before floating through the window into the real world.
This time, however, the bear didn't dissolve into colorful sparks. It simply hovered in the air, solid and tangible.
Dorothy laughed, her hands on her hips. "As long as I keep this bridge and connection to Glamour World intact, and as long as I have mana, that bear won't disappear!"
She pointed to the floating bear, which began to glow faintly with a pink outline. Slowly, it floated downward toward Nebra—or, more accurately, toward Noelle, who was squirming in Nebra's arms, clearly intent on tackling the bear.
Everyone couldn't help but smile as Dorothy set the bear down beside Nebra. Nebra crouched, placing Noelle onto the bear's belly.
"Fwuffy!" Noelle squealed, giggling as she threw her arms around the bear in a full-body hug and snuggled into it, belly to belly.
Sebastian frowned slightly, watching his youngest daughter. She's going to be absolutely devastated when that thing disappears…
His gaze shifted across the room, landing on Alfred, who looked up as if sensing his master's unspoken command. Their eyes locked, and in that silent exchange, Sebastian's intent was clear.
Buy one. The biggest and softest you can find. Have it delivered to House Silva immediately, Sebastian mouthed.
Alfred's expression subtly conveyed, Of course, sir.
Without a word, Alfred moved to the corner of the room, pulling a magic transponder from his satchel. Whispering into it, he activated the glowing gem atop the device. Moments later, the light dimmed, and he slipped the transponder back into his bag before quietly resuming his place beside Jeeves.
No one paid him any mind, too caught up in watching Noelle's antics.
The room was filled with soft chuckles and warm smiles as Noelle clung to the bear, her laughter ringing like music.
Acier smiled warmly at Noelle before turning back to Dorothy. "That's very impressive, honey, but how exactly is this going to help us…?" she asked gently.
Dorothy paused, then smacked herself lightly on the head with a playful "Teehee… I forgot to explain that part." She scratched her head awkwardly before turning her gaze to Francois.
The nobleman straightened, collecting himself before responding with his usual politeness. "My duty here is to extract Lord Silva's and Lady Acier's memories and link them together to reconstruct accurate events for Miss Unsworth to review and weave into the dream, correct?"
Sebastian suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. Does everyone in this world insist on speaking in questions? Just get to the point already!
It felt like the courtroom all over again, back when Lotus and his group were on trial—so much talking, so little doing. Still, Sebastian forced himself to nod along with the others, keeping his irritation buried beneath a calm exterior.
Francois clasped his hands behind his back. "To achieve that, I would normally activate one of my signature spells, Mémoire Absolue, which is sufficient for the task at hand."
"But." Francois raised a finger for emphasis, "the issue with this spell is that, to reconstruct the memories into coherent events, I would need to scan and review them myself. That would mean intruding upon Lord Silva's and Lady Acier's privacy—something that is, of course, unacceptable."
"So," he continued, "rather than I piece the memories together, I propose casting the spell only to connect and hold the memories in place. Miss Unsworth's clone, leveraging the power of Glamour World, will then organize and weave the events into the dream under her direction."
Dorothy chimed in, her bright smile drawing everyone's attention. "And you don't need to worry about privacy! My clone will be the only one with access to your memories. Since I'm not physically in Glamour World to monitor them, and I'll dispel the clone afterward, your secrets will be buried with her for eternity."
She scratched her cheek sheepishly. "It's not the most elegant solution, I admit… but it's the best workaround we've got. So, Mom, Dad—what do you say?"
Acier and Sebastian exchanged a glance before nodding in unison. Sebastian turned to Dorothy with a calm expression.
"Yes, that's acceptable," he said before fixing his gaze on Francois. "However, forgive my skepticism, Lord Francois, but can you actually do that? Activate only certain aspects of a spell while leaving others dormant?"
Sebastian's tone carried an edge of curiosity mixed with doubt. After all, in his experience, spells were cast as a whole—while their strength, range, and intent could vary, their core function remained unchanged.
Francois paused before bowing his head slightly. "May I be so bold as to correct you, Lord Silva?"
Sebastian sighed, waving a hand. "I've told you before, Francois, no need for formalities here. Just speak your mind."
The nobleman adjusted his monocle and forced a polite smile. "Of course. I am casting the entire spell, but I'm relinquishing control of its final phase—the reconstruction—to Miss Unsworth's clone."
He hesitated before continuing with pride tinged with self-deprecation. "You see, Mémoire Absolue isn't a basic spell. It's the product of years of rigorous training and experimentation—a fusion of two of my oldest spells."
"Oh?" Sebastian raised a brow, scratching his chin. "Care to elaborate?"
Francois inclined his head. "Certainly. When I first received my grimoire, I had only a single spell: Mémoire Rappel."
He chuckled wryly. "At the time, I thought my magic was limited to recalling things. The spell allowed me to remember anything that had ever happened to me and help others jog their memories as well."
He paused to let that sink in before continuing with a brighter tone. "Later, through experimentation, I discovered that memory magic had a high affinity with communication magic. This led to the creation of my second spell, Mémoire Connexion."
"As the name suggests, it allows me to connect multiple minds, enabling them to share thoughts, feelings, mental imagery, and anything they can visualize."
Francois blushed slightly under the approving gazes of everyone in the room, scratching his head before carrying on.
"Eventually, I combined the core principles of Rappel and Connexion to create Mémoire Absolue. This spell not only lets me link minds and retrieve their memories but also allows me to review and reconstruct them into a coherent sequence of events."
"And because Absolue is an amalgamation of these spells," he added, "I can focus solely on the Rappel and Connexion aspects while leaving the final phase—the reconstruction—in Miss Unsworth's clone's capable hands."
"I see," Sebastian nodded slowly, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "That makes… not perfect sense, but enough."
It reminded him of Yami's ability to combine Mana Zone with Black Hole to create Black Moon. The core concepts of Black Hole hadn't disappeared; Yami could revert the spell to its original form whenever he chose.
Sebastian gave a small, approving smile. "Very well, Lord Francois. Let's proceed."
"Wait, I have a question," Acier said, clasping her hands and drawing everyone's attention. She glanced at her mother, sister, and the three servants before repeating herself.
"What will their role be in all of this?"
"Oh! My goodness, I almost forgot!" Francois exclaimed, chastising himself as his gaze shifted to the five.
"According to Prince Nozel's instructions, these five are the ones most knowledgeable about and influential during the progression of your and Lord Silva's relationship to this point, correct?"
Acier nodded, though her eyes flickered with a hint of sorrow. While these five were present today, the ones who truly held the most influence had long since passed away.
If anyone noticed the subtle change in her mood, they didn't acknowledge it. Francois pressed on. "These five, along with Prince Nozel, have agreed to allow me to temporarily link their subconscious minds to yours. This will transfer all the relevant memories from those years into Mémoire Absolue. Miss Unsworth's clone will then use this input to enhance the accuracy of the dream and minimize bias."
Francois scratched the back of his head, looking slightly embarrassed. "I won't claim it'll be 100% accurate, but incorporating these perspectives should push the dream's fidelity to over 90%. Unfortunately, I don't have the power to commune with the dead to boost that number further."
Nor do I believe I ever will, he thought to himself before continuing. "So, Lord Silva, Lady Acier—does this solution work for you? If not, we can take more time to explore other options—"
"No," Sebastian interrupted, raising a hand. He shared a brief, silent exchange with Acier, who smiled and nodded.
Sebastian mirrored her nod before turning to Francois. "That will be more than enough. Thank you."
Francois inclined his head respectfully. "Of course. It's an honor to be of service to House Silva."
Sebastian didn't bother chiding him for his formality this time. His mind was elsewhere.
Perhaps he had been asking too much of Francois and Dorothy. Up until now, union and compound magic in Black Clover had always seemed to come together so naturally. He'd assumed they could replicate the same. But on reflection, that wasn't true.
Union magic only worked when there were strong bonds between the casters. Yami and Nacht were best friends. Yami and Ichika were siblings. Luck and Magna were rivals. Luck, Klaus, and Puli had even been reincarnated as vessels for elves. The list went on.
Maybe if Francois' son was here instead, he and Dorothy would have more resonance since they were both vessels of elf tribe members, but Marx hadn't even received his grimoire yet.
He'd be useless.
Francois and Dorothy, on the other hand, had only met two hours ago. They had no bond. Expecting them to create a union spell, especially one with such a specific purpose, was unrealistic.
The fact they had managed to devise a workaround, chaining smaller spells together to achieve the same effect—even if it was likely thanks to divine intervention—was already impressive.
Sebastian wasn't going to dismiss their hard work by insisting things be done his way when the result would be the same. Sure, the spell might gain a few percentage points in effectiveness if they trained for days or weeks together, but he and Acier didn't have that kind of time.
Ninety percent accuracy was more than good enough.
Acier looked around the room at her son, her mother, her sister, and the three servants. She smiled softly, her voice full of gratitude.
"Thank you. All of you. This means a lot to us. Truly."
Sebastian echoed her sentiments. "You have our gratitude."
The six responded in their own ways.
"It's not a matter worth mentioning, Mother, Father," Nozel said coolly, nodding his head.
"Brother, Sister, if you die, I call dibs on Noelle!" Aurelia beamed, earning a sharp look from her mother.
"What Aurelia means to say…" Amara said through gritted teeth, pinching her youngest daughter's cheek in frustration, "is that we will, of course, do everything we can to help you."
Alfred and Jeeves bowed deeply while Hilda curtsied. They spoke in perfect unison, their tone filled with loyalty. "It is our honor to be of service, Master, Mistress."
"Well, that's that!" Dorothy clapped her hands as she swung her feet off Sebastian's desk and sprang out of his chair.
"Do you need a moment, or should we start now?" she asked with a bright smile, circling around the desk to approach the group.
Acier hesitated, glancing at Sebastian from the corner of her eye.
"It's up to you," he said softly, giving her a reassuring nod.
Acier returned a small smile before turning back to Dorothy with renewed determination. "Let's do it now." If I wait any longer, I'll start hesitating, she thought.
Dorothy's grin widened as she stepped closer. "Alright. Do you want to do this here or somewhere more comfortable, like on your bed?"
"Here's fine," Acier and Sebastian answered in unison, drawing an amused laugh from Dorothy.
"Good. Then lean back and get comfortable. Dreams can be weird—sometimes time crawls inside, while an entire night passes in reality. Other times, it flows the same as the real world. And occasionally, you can live an entire lifetime in a dream, only to wake up a few hours later."
Her expression softened. "Reliving twenty years of life—even if it's condensed—will probably take a few hours in the real world. You don't want to wake up stiff and cramping."
Sebastian and Acier chuckled, letting their usual noble composure slip as they reclined in their chairs.
"It's time now. Don't resist," Dorothy said gently.
Her hands, glowing with pink and purple light, settled on their heads. The last thing they heard before the world began to fade was her soft, soothing voice.
"Sweet dreams."
Dorothy's words were like a lullaby, coaxing them into sleep. Their grip on reality loosened, and their eyes closed as they drifted off.
Dorothy stepped back, her smile unwavering as she turned to the others. "Alright, time to get to work."
Solid and Nebra exchanged a glance before quickly scooping up Noelle and her oversized teddy bear, making a hasty retreat to avoid disturbing the process.
As the door clicked shut behind them, Francois' grimoire floated to his side, flipping open with a soft rustle of pages.
"Memory Communication Magic: Mémoire Absolue!" he chanted.
Above Sebastian and Acier, an aqua-blue dome with sharp, angular planes formed, converging into a glowing sphere. Within it, fragmented images and memories began to surface, flickering across the planes like ghostly projections.
Francois averted his gaze from the couple's memories, focusing instead on the task at hand. With a snap of Dorothy's fingers, her clone moved silently behind the pair. Its cloudy eyes gleamed as it reached out to the dome, siphoning portions of the spell's energy to analyze the emerging memories.
Dorothy settled back into Sebastian's chair, closing her eyes in deep concentration. Her mana poured steadily into the invisible bridge she'd created between the real world and Glamour World, stabilizing the connection.
Francois turned to the remaining six. "Are you ready?"
They nodded in unison, and his grimoire flipped backward to its first page.
"Think about any memories you have of Lord Silva's and Lady Acier's relationship," he instructed.
The six closed their eyes, focusing intently.
"Memory Magic: Mémoire Rappel!" Francois chanted.
As the spell activated, their recollections began to surface, vivid and unbidden, drawn forth by the magic. Francois' grimoire flipped again, this time forward.
"Memory Communication Magic: Mémoire Connexion!"
A thread of glowing blue light shot out from Sebastian's and Acier's heads, connecting in midair before branching out to the six participants.
The threads pulsed with orange dots—memories and thoughts traveling from the six into the sleeping couple's minds. Unlike Sebastian and Acier's two-way link, the six could only send their thoughts, not receive anything back. This unidirectional connection allowed Francois to sever it if necessary without disrupting the delicate process.
Patiently, he watched as the stream of memories flowed into Mémoire Absolue, each one analyzed and woven into the dream by Dorothy's clone.
Francois clenched his fist, grounding himself to reality as he juggled with managing several spells at once, a feat only possible due to the nature of his magic. His voice was a quiet whisper, to strengthen his will and maintain his confidence.
"This will work. It has to work."
—
"It won't work."
The same enigmatic figure, cloaked in a blinding white light, knelt beneath the oscillating empty throne in Heaven's temple. His voice, young yet ancient and void of emotion, echoed softly.
"Or rather, it won't be enough, to attain the most sought after results" He added after a brief pause, a faint sigh escaping him.
Before Him, the plain black-covered book materialized once more, its pages flipping at an impossible speed—millions, perhaps billions—until it stopped at the next blank one. Oddly, although He had written in it just two hours ago, countless pages of new text had appeared in between, as if someone else had been recording their own entries.
His last contribution was no longer the latest.
Even now, as He observed the book, its pages continued to fill themselves with the same mysterious hieroglyphic script, independent of his actions.
The figure extended His right hand, and a quill pen appeared within it. With a deliberate motion, He drew a rectangle near the bottom of the blank page, spanning half its length.
"This space is mine," he declared.
Miraculously, as the self-writing text approached the designated area, it skipped over the rectangle entirely, continuing seamlessly on the next page—one the figure hadn't even turned to.
With precision, He inscribed a single line of hieroglyphic script within the rectangle. Its meaning could be deciphered as follows:
Time shall now freeze in the Primordial World.
—
And so, everything—life, matter, and even the intangible forces—came to a standstill across the world.
The Clover Kingdom, Heart, Diamond, Spade, Elysia, the Witch's Forest, and Hino—every realm froze as time itself was brought to a halt.
Birds hung suspended in the air. Waves froze mid-crest. Volcanic ash from the Yultim Mountain Range ceased its descent, locked in place.
All life, all non-living things—everything was frozen in time.
Well, almost everything.
Within the Gray Deer base, Julius stood abruptly from his desk, leaving behind the paperwork he had been working on. He tilted his head back, gazing at the ceiling.
Anyone who saw him now would hardly recognize him. His eyes swirled like twin vortexes, a black sun mark gleamed ominously on his right temple, and his hair was split evenly—half blonde, half black.
Then he smiled.
No, Lucius smiled.
It was a twisted, unsettling grin, one that oozed malice.
"I see you," he said, his voice lilting as if singing a dark melody.
The sound alone would send shivers down the spine of anyone who heard it.
—
In the seventh and lowest level of the Underworld, the three Dukes of Hell sat with contrasting expressions.
Seated on the third branch of the Tree of Qliphoth was Megicula, a petite female devil adorned with curved, ram-like horns jutting from her head, a thinner pair pointing upward from her forehead, long wavy hair, bat-like wings, and three eye slits rimmed with dark markings. Her long ears twitched as she furrowed her brows in confusion.
"What happened?" Megicula squinted, her tone laced with unease. "Why can't I communicate with Vanica right now? I can feel her… but she's not responding."
In the second seat of Qliphoth sat Beelzebub, a towering figure cloaked in shadow. With pointy ears, four horns—two small ones pointing up and two larger ones curving outward—and hair splitting like a black river down his head, Beelzebub trembled.
One of the three rulers of the Underworld, the devil of space and a being of the highest order, was trembling in fear.
He lowered his head, as though afraid to meet someone's gaze, as though terrified of drawing attention to himself.
And then, at the deepest depths of the Underworld, seated upon the first branch of Qliphoth, was Lucifero—the undisputed king of the Underworld. A monstrous being with four bat-like wings, long, light-colored hair, pointed ears, and sharp teeth. Four upward-curving horns jutted from his temples and the sides of his head.
From his lonely throne, Lucifero's slitted dark sclera and crimson irises stared upward. His gaze pierced through all seven levels of Hell, traversed the Primordial World above, ascended billions of light-years, and locked onto Heaven.
There, it found the Mysterious Figure.
"Enoch," Lucifero spat, his voice dripping with derision and disdain.
"I see you."
"Enoch."
Both Lucius and Lucifero spoke their words with malevolence, their voices resonating through the cosmos.
The Mysterious Figure remained cloaked in radiant white light, their features obscured. As their head tilted downward, the light masked their face, but an undeniable intensity emanated from their unseen eyes, as though locking gazes with both beings.
In a tone as emotionless and ancient as time itself, the Mysterious Figure spoke—not to either being, but to someone else.
"Uriel."
—
Far to the south of the temple where the Mysterious Figure knelt, a clear and pure waterfall cascaded into a serene river. Behind the rocks near the water, an artist's setup was nestled—a canvas on a wooden stand, brushes and paints scattered nearby.
Seated on a stool was a figure, a man with a beauty almost otherworldly. Though unmistakably male, his slender build, spotless skin, and lack of facial or leg hair gave him an ethereal elegance.
The man painted with practiced precision, though his color choices were unusual. Instead of the natural blues and greens of the scene before him, his painting burned with warm hues—the river glowed yellow, the grass blazed red, the waterfall shimmered orange, and the sky swirled with a fiery mix of them all.
As He painted, the Mysterious Figure's ancient yet youthful voice resonated in His mind, calling his name.
"Uriel."
Uriel paused, setting down his brush. He leaned back in his chair, golden eyes lifting to the starry sky. His tunic billowed gently in the wind.
With a sigh, Uriel spoke, His voice dashing yet tinged with irritation. "Very well, but this is the last time. Do not bother me again."
Without waiting for a reply, a radiant halo manifested above His head, glowing like a miniature sun and casting beams of light outward.
Fiery wings unfurled from His back, their feathers blazing red, orange, and yellow like a phoenix reborn.
Uriel stood, His golden eyes now blazing like twin suns. When He spoke again, His voice was no longer dashing but lofty, ancient, and absolute—a voice strikingly similar to that of the Mysterious Figure.
"And once again... let there be light."
His words echoed across all of Heaven, reverberating with a power beyond comprehension.
—
Above the Primordial World, a resplendent golden light flickered into existence. It was small at first, but then it grew—and grew—and grew—until it dwarfed the planet itself. The entire star system—Sun, Moon, and all—was consumed by its brilliance.
Everything turned white. The blinding light bathed every corner of existence. It was fortunate that all life on the Primordial World had been frozen in time because if not, nearly all would have been rendered permanently blind.
That's how glorious that light was.
Within the Gray Deer Base, Lucius instinctively averted his gaze, shutting his eyes tight and tucking his face into the crook of his arm. Yet it didn't help. This wasn't a light one could escape from so easily.
It wasn't just his physical sight that was overwhelmed. Inside his mind—inside his very soul—he saw it. That same golden light. It engulfed everything, consuming his senses and smothering his precognition. His astral body curled into a protective ball, shielding itself as best it could.
I should be scared, Lucius thought. I should be trembling. But he didn't so much as flinch. Instead, he smiled. Because I know... I'm not today's target.
Deep in the lowest levels of Hell, Lucifero retracted his gaze the instant that sacred light reached him.
Light magic wasn't arcane—it had holy properties but lacked the raw purifying power of Saint Stage magic. Yet this? This wasn't magic. It was something infinitely more pure. Something sacred. The very bane of malevolence itself.
And Devils were malevolence incarnate.
Uriel might not have been the strongest Archangel, but he was the one Devils feared most. No matter how powerful Lucifero was, no matter what he had been before, he was now a Devil. And as such, even the mighty Demon King had no choice but to avert his gaze and lower his head.
Lucifero's throne crumbled beneath him, cracking into rubble under the sheer weight of his gravity and fury.
"...Uriel...!" he hissed through clenched teeth.
Back in Heaven, the Mysterious Figure wasted no time. The moment Lucius and Lucifero looked away, He moved.
His head turned slowly, His gaze sweeping across the boundless expanse of the universe.
Within His eyes, the vast starry cosmos seemed to peel away, replaced by a boundless, infinite white void. Floating within this endless space were countless silvery orbs of light, their glow soft yet eternal.
The Mysterious Figure scanned the infinite expanse as though searching for someone. And then, as if finding what—or who—He sought, He spoke.
"Azrael."
—
A lone figure moved through the endless blank space, clad in a black robe that concealed their entire body. The fabric obscured even their face, leaving only the faint impression of a hooded silhouette. A scythe rested in one hand, though even the arm wielding it remained hidden beneath the folds of the robe.
Anyone who laid eyes on this figure would have thought they had encountered the Grim Reaper himself.
And they wouldn't have been wrong. This was Azrael, the Angel of Death—the guardian and retriever of all departed souls.
The space he walked through was the World Between Worlds, a vast expanse true to its name: a space of pure space. Countless silvery orbs floated around him, glowing softly, each one a soul of the deceased.
These souls came from every corner of existence—from humans to dwarves, elves to lizardfolk, insects to plants, devils, and even microscopic organisms. If it was alive, it had a soul. And if it had a soul, it was Azrael's responsibility to protect it until the Day of Judgment, when every being—whether the most depraved sinner or the purest saint—would stand before God for a fair trial.
That was Azrael's sacred duty: to scour every corner of the universe, collect the souls of the deceased, and bring them here for safekeeping.
As he moved through the infinite void, Azrael suddenly froze. A voice echoed within his mind, resonating with quiet authority.
"You know what I want."
The Angel of Death did not respond immediately. Instead, he turned his gaze toward the countless floating orbs of light. When he finally spoke, his voice was cold yet carried an odd warmth, like the stillness of a winter dawn.
"It is your choice. None can force you."
Moments later, three of the silvery orbs shot out from the crowd, stopping in front of him. Slowly, they began to shift. Their glowing forms morphed into silvery astral silhouettes before solidifying and taking on color.
All three figures were men, their appearances starkly different yet undeniably connected.
The first was the oldest—gaunt and frail, with deep wrinkles etched into his pale skin. He was tall, with long silver hair and piercing silver eyes that glinted with wisdom.
The second figure was younger, broader, and sturdier. Though his silver hair was shorter, his resemblance to the first man was unmistakable. Strength radiated from his steadfast posture, and he wore the House Silva attire with quiet pride.
The third was the most striking of the three. Though he appeared older than the second, he exuded a youthful vigor. His aqua hair was as vibrant as spring water, and his eyes gleamed a bright green. Draped in a cyan fur cape and carrying a royal cane staff, he looked every bit the eccentric aristocrat.
The two Silva men nodded in acknowledgment, their expressions cool and indifferent. The third man smiled warmly and returned the gesture with a bow.
Azrael remained still, his face unreadable beneath the hood. He didn't nod but simply waited.
Moments later, another orb of light broke away from the crowd and solidified into a figure. This one was younger, with golden-brown hair, a black birthmark on his lower lip, and a pale, nervous face.
The reactions were instant. The Silva men's expressions twisted into barely concealed disgust, though they made no further movement.
This man was Lux Kira.
Lux ignored their disdain and fell to his knees, clasping his hands in desperate supplication.
"Oh, great Angel of Death! If I help here, will my sentence be shortened?"
Azrael's gaze bore down on him, his voice cold yet gentle.
"You are already dead. The fact that you no longer possess a Grimoire is proof enough. Your sins and good deeds have been recorded in the Book of Life. All that remains is for you to stand trial on Judgment Day, where your actions will be weighed."
Lux's eyes widened in despair, his mouth opening to beg, but Azrael cut him off.
"However, God is merciful and forgiving. If you are willing to aid these two souls, even in death, the Lord will take note of your actions when your trial comes."
Lux froze, then nodded frantically. "Of course! Of course! My calling in life was to help others. Acier and Sebastian are dear friends—I'll do whatever it takes to help them!"
Azrael seemed unimpressed by his outburst. With a calm flick of his wrist, he spun his scythe. Lux yelped in fear, scrambling to his feet. Ignoring the disdainful looks from the others, he gave Azrael a nervous nod.
A sudden snap echoed in all four of their minds. Memories surged forth, fragments of Acier and Sebastian's lives and relationships flashing vividly. Orange dots of energy floated up from their heads and coalesced in the air before shooting out of the white space.
The glowing points of light hurtled across the cosmos, passing through the Primordial World, the Clover Kingdom, and finally reaching Castle Silva. They descended into Sebastian's study, where everything was frozen in time.
The dots merged with the spell Mémoire Absolue.
The resplendent light that had engulfed the world faded instantly.
Back in the Gray Deer Base, Lucius raised his head and opened his eyes, gazing out the window toward the Royal Castle with a faint smile. He turned back to his desk as the sun mark on his right lobe disappeared. His hair turned fully gold, and his swirling vortex eyes shifted back to their natural purple hue.
Julius Novachrono had returned.
And just as he did, Julius froze in time.
—
Within Heaven, the Mysterious Figure etched another sentence into the black book, its meaning translatable as:
And Time in the Primordial World Begins to Move Once More.
—
In an instant, all of creation in the Primordial World stirred back to life. Time resumed as though it had never paused, with no one aware they had been frozen at all.
Within Sebastian's study, Francois and Dorothy remained oblivious to the four new memory fragments that had merged with Mémoire Absolue. Both had deliberately turned their gazes away from the spell to avoid glimpsing the memories within. Meanwhile, Dorothy's clone stood silently, its sentience restricted by design.
The clone had one purpose: to weave a dream from the memories for Sebastian and Acier. It would not speak, nor acknowledge the contents of the memories it handled.
This restriction was precisely the loophole the Mysterious Figure had exploited.
Francois finished severing the connection of the six others' subconscious minds to the couple. Their memories had fully transferred, their role complete. Now, the clone moved forward. With glowing purple and pink hands, it hovered over the heads of Sebastian and Acier, the spell nearing its final phase.
Dorothy, the real Dorothy, sitting at Sebastian's desk snapped open her eyes. Her lips moved softly, and she murmured two words:
"Dream Weaver."
—
Author's Notes:
[1] Sorry about no update yesterday, this chapter was so long, and I had zero motivation to write or do anything whatsoever yesterday. I was just lazy.
[2] We have finally reached the dream, and I want to say, it will by far be the longest arc, not something that will be completed in a chapter or two, so buckle up for a long ride.
[3] As always feel free to join the discord at: https://discord.gg/s3MME8X8ar
每周推薦票狀態
-- 推薦票
榜單 
-- 推薦票