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Northern Shore of the Conquest Sea, Navaha.

In the dark of night, following the powerful invisible force that swept through the entire city, nearly everyone in Navaha fell into a deep sleep. Amidst this silent stillness, a bizarre, illusory creature hovered in the night sky, becoming the nightmare of any who glimpsed it.

Under the Blackdream Hunting Pack’s ritual, the False Moth from the Dreamscape had fully descended into reality. The enormous, distorted moth, over ten ters long, flapped its dazzling, triangular wings, hovering above the city. White cocoons writhed slowly across its bloated body; slender, semi-transparent tentacles swayed gently, and countless eyes upon its head stared in every direction. An eerie luminescence enveloped the creature, illuminating the city beneath. Space around it faintly twisted, intermittently revealing images of trees and grass.

The newly erged False Moth stretched its body, seemingly issuing a silent call. Those Sleep Decay Syndro patients who had previously worshipped fervently at ntal hospitals, their minds long hollowed out, rose simultaneously at this call. They moved together, stumbling zombie-like into the city streets. Simultaneously, throughout the city, existing believers instantly descended into the final stage of Sleep Decay Syndro, becoming puppets controlled by the False Moth. They crawled out of their hos, groaning and wandering aimlessly through the streets.

For a brief mont, besides those who slept deeply, Navaha was filled only with these mindless Sleep Decay sufferers, their eerie sounds echoing through the city’s dark streets and alleys, seemingly celebrating the False Moth’s birth.

Deep beneath the city, at the site of the Blackdream Hunting Pack’s ritual, the vast dark underground chamber was empty of the once-floating giant cocoon. Those worshipful Sleep Decay patients scattered urgently towards the surface, eager to behold their newly born deity. The ritual site now held only the circle of cloaked Blackdream mbers.

"The Panmoth has successfully erged… After more than ten years, our Panmoth has finally hatched…"

Goz muttered blankly, staring upwards into the dark.

"Yes… But unfortunately, this is not yet the proper ti. Its developnt is incomplete, its condition unstable. I can feel its emotions—it’s crazed, terrified, starving…"

Garcia echoed, her gaze also fixed upward, her heart filled with mixed emotions of joy and worry.

"The Moth’s current ntal state is unstable; it urgently requires nourishnt to repair the damage caused by its premature ergence. We must help stabilize its mind and guide it!"

"Everyone! Our ritual isn’t finished yet. The Panmoth requires our guidance—we must stand with it, guiding it to feast upon dreams, then guide it away from here!"

Garcia spread her arms wide, shouting loudly to her comrades. Due to its accelerated ergence, the False Moth’s mind was severely unstable, and thus it needed their support.

Responding to Garcia’s call, the Blackdream mbers sat down, bowed their heads, and quickly entered a deep sleep. Garcia and Goz joined them, and soon all Blackdream mbers were asleep.

In their dreams, the Blackdream mbers linked themselves, centered around Garcia, establishing a connection with the False Moth above the city. Their Dream Cocoons had long been unified with the creature. Normally, they drew mystical powers from the Moth, but during critical monts like this, they could support it. Now, this immature False Moth needed their help.

After the Blackdream mbers entered the dream state, the False Moth floating above the city stirred once more. Its mouthless head emitted silent screams, and the countless tentacles beneath its abdon accelerated their movents.

The semi-transparent tentacles elongated downward, penetrating walls and windows, directly targeting bedrooms. Sleeping citizens had their heads wrapped by these intrusive tentacles, imdiately releasing cries of pain in their sleep, displaying symptoms identical to Sleep Decay Syndro.

In the Dreamscape’s Forest, the massive form of the False Moth was even more tangible now. Those whose dreams were invaded by its tentacles found their Dream Cocoons forcibly transmitted beside the False Moth, absorbed into the cluster of cocoons on its abdon, becoming its nourishnt. In reality, these victims gradually degenerated into Sleep Decay sufferers.

Having erged prematurely, the False Moth no longer required prior worship to capture dreams. Its tentacles could forcibly seize any sleeping human’s Dream Cocoon upon contact. Now, the False Moth was actively feeding in this manner.

The grotesque moth from dreams hovered above the real-world city, relentlessly extending its countless tentacles to capture innocent drears. The seaside city of over a hundred thousand had now beco an open banquet hall, offering itself entirely to appease the False Moth’s hunger. Until its ravenous appetite was temporarily satisfied, the Blackdream Hunting Pack mbers could not completely control it or guide it away.

"What on earth is that monster...?"

At Navaha harbor, aboard the deck of the cruiser, Captain Giorde, commander of the Radiance fleet, gazed at the distant spectacle in astonishnt. Despite having weathered countless storms at sea, he had never witnessed such a scene.”

"I’m uncertain exactly what it is... But I suspect it’s a Dreamscape entity capable of affecting reality. I’ve heard that certain Shadow-path cultists can control such creatures. Beneath this city likely lies secrets we have yet to uncover…" calmly remarked the elderly monk Weir, standing behind Giorde and holding his Radiance scripture. Beside Weir stood two other figures—Santos, Giorde’s deputy, and another naval officer in a captain’s uniform from another cruiser.

These two had just been awakened by Weir’s disciplinary commands. Now they too stared in stunned disbelief at the distant, bizarre apparition.

"By the Holy Mother... who would have thought this city concealed such a sinister creature? What exactly are those tentacles reaching into the city doing?"

"This thing gives a very ominous feeling. Gentlen, should we investigate what’s happening over there?"

Santos and another captain stared gravely at the distant False Moth. At that mont, the False Moth, which had been busily feeding, suddenly seed to sense more enticing prey and turned its massive form toward the harbor, swiftly heading their way. Seeing this, the four conscious n aboard the fleet imdiately went on alert.

"It’s coming toward us, perhaps drawn by sothing. Gentlen, fulfill your duties and prepare for battle! Protect the fleet, protect the citizens, protect all followers of our Lord!"

Giorde issued the command as he watched the False Moth approach. Behind him, the other three imdiately assud combat readiness. Giorde and another captain drew their swords, Santos grasped his Holy Mother’s emblem tightly, and the elder monk, Weir, held his scripture before him.

"This creature’s hypnotic abilities are incredibly powerful, constantly pulsing without pause. Now that it is drawing closer, the hypnotic influence grows even stronger, surpassing a typical White Ash-rank mystical effect."

"Under this level of influence, maintaining the four of us awake through the Discipline is already my limit. I may not be able to provide any additional support in combat, so please proceed cautiously. We must end this quickly. If my spirituality depletes before the battle concludes, we will be defenselessly asleep."

Elder monk Weir solemnly cautioned the three n. The creature’s strongest power was its continuous hypnotic pulse covering the city. Weir’s Discipline was the only defense against it. He had already exhausted himself awakening the three strongest White Ash-rank fighters aboard the fleet, leaving him no spare energy to awaken others.

"We understand…"

The trio acknowledged the monk’s warning and leaped from the deck onto the shore, charging toward the False Moth.

"Holy Mother, grant us your blessing..."

Santos prayed fervently, tightly holding the Holy Mother’s emblem. Soon, a faint golden glow appeared around Giorde and the other captain. They felt an overwhelming surge of strength fill their bodies, powerful enough to easily shatter stone, approaching the prowess of White Ash-rank Chalice Beyonders.

Boosted by imnse strength, the two captains gripped their swords, attached a sigil to themselves to reduce the weight of their equipnt, and leaped effortlessly onto tall harbor buildings. They swiftly moved across rooftops, quickly closing the distance to the False Moth.

The first to strike was the other captain. From the top of a warehouse, he jumped with full force above the False Moth, bringing his sword down toward its head, but his blade sliced right through the ethereal body, leaving no mark.

After crashing onto another rooftop, the other captain shouted to Giorde, who was already mid-air.

"It’s incorporeal! Regular weapons are useless!"

Hearing this, Giorde tightened his grip as blazing flas ignited along his blade. He descended like a flaming teor, forcing the False Moth to evade. Giorde’s burning blade severed a tentacle, igniting it with spiritual fire.

The False Moth trembled montarily, then its burning tentacle blurred and reconnected, healing instantly. It unleashed nurous tentacles, attacking from all sides. The two captains quickly activated Shadow sigils, narrowly evading the translucent tendrils.

Despite their buffs, evasion was extrely challenging due to the overwhelming number and incorporeal nature of the tentacles, which could pass through physical barriers effortlessly. If not for their ability to sever tentacles and shield themselves with spiritual fire, they would have already been caught. Yet the damage they inflicted remained minimal due to the vast size difference.

"Spiritual enchantnts work, but they’re insufficient! A creature this large and incorporeal is troubleso—no pain, no weak spots. We’ll exhaust our spirituality at this rate. We must force it into a more physical state to inflict real damage!"

While dodging, Giorde called out his assessnt. Hearing this, the other captain shouted down to Santos below.

"Santos! Convert it!"

"Understood..."

Holding the Holy Mother’s emblem firmly, Santos prayed earnestly once again, fixing his gaze upon the False Moth and one of its tentacles attacking Giorde, unleashing his power.

“Holy Mother, grant flesh and blood to that which is unreal…”

As Santos finished his prayer, the translucent tentacle striking toward Giorde suddenly began to change. Within its originally illusory and transparent form, dense blood vessels and strands of muscle fibers spontaneously grew, giving substance to what had been re emptiness.

Seizing this opportunity, Giorde swung his flaming longsword down decisively, cleaving straight through the now flesh-and-blood tentacle. Blood imdiately spurted forth, and the scent of cooked flesh filled the air around Giorde. An unprecedented wave of agonizing pain transmitted itself through the newly ford nerves directly to the False Moth, making the creature experience genuine injury and anguish for the first ti. It writhed violently, silently screaming, exhibiting a reaction far greater than it had shown after any of the previous fiery slashes.

Giorde and the others were overjoyed upon seeing the effectiveness of their attack, preparing eagerly for a follow-up strike. However, the False Moth abruptly fluttered its illusory wings, ascending rapidly into the dark sky beyond their reach. Right before their eyes, its form beca increasingly transparent until it fully vanished, slipping completely into nothingness and disappearing from their sight.

“Did that thing… run away?”

Giorde muttered quietly as he stared into the emptiness left behind by the giant moth.

His words were overheard by a small marionette silently observing from a distance. Far away, Dorothy voiced her speculation in response.

“No… that creature… has likely retreated temporarily into the Dreamscape, removing itself entirely from reality’s dinsion to evade your continued attacks. It’s probably already preparing to counterattack…”

Standing before the hotel entrance, Dorothy gazed into the darkness where the grotesque giant moth had vanished, quietly murmuring to herself.

“It seems… now isn’t the ti for to stay hidden behind the scenes anymore.”

You are reading Dorothy’s Forbidden Grimoire Chapter 417 : Illusion and Reality on novel69. Use the chapter navigation above or below to continue reading the latest translated chapters.
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