Charles' smirk widened as he pinned Umbra with irritation seen in his face. Despite Charles' smug demeanor, there was a dangerous glint in his eyes. It looked like a predator playing with its prey.
"You look slower and weaker." Charles noted as he looked disappointed. " It hasn't been that long either."
He felt something off about Umbra. His body seemed looser and his movements were less precise. The oppressive darkness that could be felt earlier was lacking, as if it mostly disappeared. In truth, Umbra used those disappeared powers to create something that would enter the child's body.
"I think this power is enough for you." Umbra retorted. Yet, those words were far off from the truth.
He was not entirely serious. He just wanted to anger Charles due to his frustration. This man, a duke's son, had wasted time fighting instead of dealing with the real problem: the child, losing his sanity, wobbled on the brink of being consumed by his nightmare.
If Charles had not prevented him from arriving early, things would not have spiraled this far out of control.
The figure before them was barely recognizable as a child anymore. A specter clad in darkness, its fractured body shifting unnaturaly. Too many limbs, too many jagged cracks running along its form, like reality itself struggled to contain it.
And yet, it was not beyond saving
The nightmare had not completely taken over. The child was still in there, fighting.
"What is the renowned son of Duke Vein doing here?" the dreamer Vicente faced asked with confusion.
He had assumed they were not on the same saide. After all, Charles had attacked Umbra earlier, wielding high-level magic without hesitation.
Now, the dreamer turned to Vicente, grinning as if he had already won.
'This is bad.' Vicente thought. 'Charles' timing is awful. I don't even know if I can beat this guy.'
A nightmare loomed in a child in danger. Weakened Umbra was locked in conflict with a battle-crazed Charles. Vicente could feel the noose tightening around them all.
Hope was slipping through his fingers.
And then, in an instant, the dreamer in front of Vicente was hurled on the far side. Lightning crackled in the air as a golden blur struck him. The impact was brutal, sending the man flying.
Vicente turned towards Charles, who had already casted a glance at Vicente, with a smirk before refocusing on his new opponent. In an instant, he had charged straight at the other dreamer.
"Charles Vein… he helped?" Vicente muttered, barely believing what he had just witnessed. He was the hope that remained.
Why would he? Vicente wondered. Questions surged in his mind.
But there was no time for answers. As long as Charles was not against them, Vicente would take it as an advantage.
He ran towards Umbra, who was currently on the ground.
"What just happened? Is he on our side?"
Vicente's words only seem to irritate Umbra further. As if he would ever want Charles as an ally. If there was one thing Umbra despised, it was Charles Vein.
Ignoring the question, Umbra stood up. Luckily for him, Charles had not gone after him nor did something to him.
His gaze turned towards the crying figure— the child's nightmare, with its loud, creepy shout.
"We need to hold him down until the part of me inside his dreams can pull him back."
If the child escapes the area, there is no telling what destruction he might unleash on the empire.
"Holding him is easy. Just tell the other you to hurry up." Vicente said firmly, full of confidence and resolve.
There was still hope. They just had to hold on.
"Charles Vein, why would you interfere in the matters of Dreamers and Nightmares?"
Atop a towering building, two figures face each other in silent tension.
The Dreamer spoke first, his voice was calm but was puzzled by the situation. Yet, Charles remained still, silent, unmoved.
"Has your father told you nothing of these cursed beings?" The Dreamer continued. "They have the ability to consume the world, drowning it in nightmares."
Charles could understand his words. He simply did not care. His expression remained impassive, his posture relaxed, as if the entire confrontation bored him. No words. No anger. Just a quiet defiance.
The Dreamer exhaled. "So, words do not reach you."
A gust of night air swept between them, rustling their clothes. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, Charles vanished. Golden magic particles crackled in the air where he had stood. In an instant, he reappeared— right above the Dreamer, lightning coiling around his limbs like a living serpents.
The Dreamer did not flinch. Instead, he smiled.
The moment Charles' hand neared him, a bell-like chime rang out. A force struck Charles mid-air, flinging him backward, on the ground. He skidded to a halt.
Raising his head, he could see the Dreamer's dark figure, resulted from the light casted by the moon behind him.
"I am Ballad." The Dreamer announced, lowering his hand." A Dreamer, executioners of Nightmares. If you insist on standing in my way, I have no choice but to subdue you.""
Dreamers were unlike human magicians. For them, magic was not merely exerted on an external force— it was their very being, their existence is woven by magic. Their power system was unique, they have their very own ability and were like their whole existence themselves.
Charles steadied himself, rolling his shoulders. Despite being repelled, he showed no frustration— only curiosity.
"Interesting… What kind of ability was that?" Charles muttered. 'If I could figure it out, this would be an easy task.'
He had no idea what Ballad showed earlier. But he was sure that if he did, victory would be his.
Confidence surged through Charles. His instincts, sharpened by countless battles, told him this was a fight he could win, even if he did not know Ballad's abilities.
Then, Ballad raised his hand. A slender wooden stick materialized in his grasp.
'Huh? A stick?'
Charles frowned. He had seen it before. Ballad had been holding it near his hip when Charles first attacked.
But what was it? A weapon? A conduit for magic?
It was not enough to go on.
"Well, there is only one way to find out." Charles smirked, golden lightning surging around him once more, more intense than the previous one. His eyes burned with the same brilliant energy.
"I am coming at you again."
Ballad remained still, watching, unimpressed.
"I will tell you this early, kid. I was caught to surprise earlier." he said with an unwavering voice. "But now, it will be futile."
Just like before, Ballad did not move from his position while Charles moved.
Endless darkness.
That was how Umbra described it as he walked through the child's mind. With his left eye losed, he pondered for a moment.
Was it too late?
He asked himself.
Something felt wrong.
A nightmare devouring a person within an hour? That should not be possible. Normally, it would take days— gradually consuming the dreams until nothing remained.
Unless… the person had only ever dreamed once.
But that was impossible. Every living being sleeps, dreams, then wakes. An endless cycle till they die. No human could experience just a single dream. Yet, this child who merely looked twelve had that condition? It was close to impossible.
Unless—
Wait… A light?
Far in distance, a faint glow flickered, struggling against the encroaching darkness.
Umbra narrowed his eyes.
Two children are at its center. One stood, shielding the other, arms wrapped protectively around him. The second child cowered, hands pressed to the ground, shaking.
"Poor children." Umbra murmured. "I'll take your nightmares with you."
In an instant, he was there.
The standing child looked up, eyes filled with defiance.
"Do you also want to devour my brother too?"
Dreams were strange. Why did they speak as if they were real? This was all just an illusion. A twisted, distorted version of imaginations. Shadows given form.
How could you think like that, —?
Why not dream again?
Give hope— only to wither.
It was Umbra's fleeting thought, a hallucination of his mind. Despite the conflicted emotion, he ignored it.
Saving this child is easy.
This darkness was nothing. It is not enough to cover my darkness.
Then—
A figure emerged from the void.
It was unseen yet unmistakably present and its presence was suffocating. This was the Nightmare's given form, an embodiment of this child's nightmare.
"So, you're the one haunting this child?" Umbra exhaled sharply. He looked at it. It was a disgusting figure to be felt.
The entity shuddered, its voice fractured and distorted
"Giv… me… that… light. I… need… to… save… my… bro… der…"
Umbra scoffed. "The privilege to know what is inside a nightmare is haunting. I bet I am the only person wanting this job." he mused.
His expression darkened. No hesitation. No mercy
He unleashed his powers.
Darkness erupted around him, colliding with the nightmare in a violent storm.
"Your darkness versus mine? Which will win? Who will devourer who?! " Umbra shouted, crazy energy entangled with his words. It was different from his usual self. The calm, analytical demeanor was gone. This was pure, unrestrained madness.
The nightmare could not do anything. The endless storm of darkness Umbra released was vicious and devastating. It was as if he was the nightmare between the two them.
Later, sharp sound cracked through the void—
CRACK.
Like a shattered shell, fractures split across the nightmare's figure.
And beyond the broken husk—
A child. Unconscious, but whole.
Vicente, watching from the outside, moved instantly. He leaped forward, catching the child before he could fall.
"Did it succeed?" He asked, holding the child in his arms.
"What does it look like?" Umbra grinned and opened his right eyes. The answer was clear.
Vicente exhaled with a small smile forming on his lips. A miracle had happened before him— something believed impossible for centuries.
For the first time in history, a human that could save those afflicted by the Nightmare's curse.
Umbra. He was more than just rare. He was an existence that came only once in a lifetime.
"So, what should we do about the child?"
Vicente's question hung in the air.
Neither he nor Umbra had an answer.
They knew nothing about the child— who he was nor where he came from. Even from the child's fragmented memories, Umbra had only glimpsed a single scenario. Nothing before, nothing after.
That alone made him… interesting.
"I think I want to observe him for now." Umbra finally said. "He is an anomaly for me."
Vicente glanced at Umbra, studying his expression. There was something strange in his eyes— a quiet longing. Almost like something about the child had triggered something deep within him.
I want to know. Why is his face like that?
"U-"
"So, you are already finished here?"
Before Vicente could even speak, a voice cut in, with amusement and arrogance. It was Charles Vein.
"How was your battle?" Umbra asked with his tone unreadable.
Charles smirked. "Well, he got away. But I was winning, you know."
Winning?
Umbra and Vicente gave him deadpan stare, with expressions full of doubt
Charles' clothes were tattered. His face bruised, and blood trickled from his nose and forehead. Winning? How? He almost looked dead, the dreamer must be in a worse shape than Charles if he was winning. But he was not. Even more, the Dreamer escaped.
He looked nothing like someone who had won a fight.
But, ignoring their questioning gazes, Charles stepped forwards, his eyes burning with excitement. "Now that you are done, fight me."
Vicente groaned. The lunatic did not even care about his current situation at all. He seriously wanted to fight.
At least he is energetic!
But before Umbra could even think about responding, another voice interrupted.
"That is enough, Charles."
Irritated, Charles turned toward the speaker— only for his annoyance to deepen.
"Tch. Have you forgotten the voice of your father?"
It was none other than Duke Vein.
A commanding presence wrapped in effortless authority. Even with Charles still burning with battle hunger, he reluctantly complied.
Though, it did not look like a disciplined son obeying his father. It was more like a reckless dog who simply felt like listening.
"Were you watching us?" Vicente was the first to speak.
The Duke chuckled. "Yes. My apologies for not assisting, but I wanted to see how the situation played out." His tone was light, amused, as if tonight's chaos had been nothing more than an entertaining show.
After a brief laugh, his gaze shifted to Umbra. "So, this is the self-proclaimed Umbra. Nice to meet you."
Duke Vein extended a hand towards Umbra.
But—
Umbra simply stared at it.
There was something off about this man— another eccentric personality. And worse? He looked like Charles but with longer hair. Umbra could feel an immediate headache forming.
"Can I feel bad about this?" The Duke frowned in the corner as Umbra was hesitant to accept his hands.
Eh?
Before the situation could stretch on, Charles, clearly fed up, kicked his father.
"What are you doing? It's already late night, old man. Let us go."
…Yeah. Definitely a dog and its owner.
"Enough with that. Why don't you all stay at our estate?" Shaking off the moment, Duke Vein dusted himself and made a suggestion.
Umbra was surprised.
"Is there even a place you can go?" the Duke continued smoothly, glancing pointedly at the unconscious child. "If the Dreamers are still after him, can you protect him alone?"
It was a valid point.
There was no guarantee that Dreamers would not keep pursuing the boy. More Importantly, one of them had already fought with Charles.
"You are strong, Umbra, no doubt about that." Vicente added, with concern in his voice. " But, just in case…"
Umbra hesitated. Then sighed. "Fine. I will stay until the case is forgotten."
But the moment the words left his mouth, a shiver ran down his spine. There was one person far too excited about this arrangement.
Before they departed, Duke Vein cast an unnoticeable glance toward a distant tower.
A silhouette emerged at the top.
From the shadows, a man spoke. "The Duke noticed us, huh?"
He shifted his gaze to the figure beside him—a man with long blonde hair and an eerily pale face.
"So, Ballad, how was he?"
Ballad knelt on one knee, his voice calm and respectful. "It was a scene beyond comprehension. He saved someone who was destined to die."
The man hummed in thought, his eyes drifting toward the streets below. Among the careless pedestrians, his focus settled on a single individual.
"Yeah… I figured someone like him would appear eventually."
His lips curled slightly. "Anyway, he almost had you."
Ballad remained unfazed. "Ah, the Duke's son? He was reckless. Charging in without caution."
It was an odd statement, considering the state of their battle. Ballad stood untouched. Charles, on the other hand, had been battered and bruised.
Yet, the man chuckled.
"Really? I wonder about that."
A brief silence settled between them before Ballad spoke again. "What are you planning to do with them?"
The man smirked. "Well, it would not be that interesting if I were to tell you that."
…