Chapter 305 Dreamweaving

### Chapter 305: Weaving Dreams

Late at night.

As the stars shone brightly in the sky, Hastur, who had been experiencing the feeling of an angel on Earth, received a summons from Bernadette.

This forced him to temporarily return to the Hall of Stars, abandoning his evening wanderings.

In the Hall of Stars, Hastur looked through the starry expanse and saw Bernadette alone in her room.

He did not speak, simply gazing quietly at her.

"Stars, I need guidance. Can you point me in the right direction?" Bernadette's request was clear—she sought information about Roselle again.

Hastur had no intention of letting Bernadette find Roselle; the Fallen Mother Goddess had been waiting for him.

"Only the right time brings the right guidance," Hastur responded coldly.

Bernadette was stunned. After a moment of hesitation, she asked, "Is there anything the stars cannot do?"

That question hit hard.

Hastur sighed inwardly and calmly replied, "Your urgency will only hasten his demise."

"Is that really true?"

Bernadette's eyes dimmed, losing their initial brightness.

For her, finding the truth and saving her father was the only reason to keep moving forward.

Hastur chuckled lightly, "A Sequence 2, and yet you dream so big."

Bernadette remained silent. She knew her father's predicament involved gods, but she couldn't just wait passively.

Having reached Sequence 2, advancing further was incredibly difficult—an opportunity that might never come again in her lifetime.

Before Bernadette could say more, Hastur cut off the connection.

It seemed he needed to find something for her to do. Her behavior tonight clearly showed she had too much free time recently.

After some thought, Hastur decided to place his hopes on the Mother Tree of Desire and the Lord of the Stars.

When they caused a stir in Intis, he could assign Bernadette some important tasks, keeping her busy.

Hastur's gaze shifted to the largest star near the Mother Tree of Desire. There, the divine offspring Seer was directing some people to build what appeared to be an altar, likely to receive the Mother Tree of Desire's power.

As for the shattered egg of the Lord of the Stars, it was still repairing its cracks, striving for completion.

Given the egg's state, another divine descent might cause it to break completely.

After observing for a while, Hastur left the Hall of Stars.

The next afternoon.

Alfred Hall arrived punctually, bringing many unique gifts from the Southern Continent.

Hastur welcomed the gesture warmly, even Aisala was drawn to the gifts, sniffing the scent of the sea that had traveled across the ocean.

"You're even more capable than I imagined. When I was your age, I was still bickering with my older brother, acting like a child," Alfred Hall said, his admiration for Hastur evident.

Hastur responded politely, "You're more gentlemanly than Miss Audrey described in her letters."

"Gentlemanly... Audrey still sees me as I was before leaving Backlund." Alfred smiled, then sighed, "The Southern Continent doesn't care for our Ruen gentlemanly ways. It's wild and rough, no afternoon tea. In the evenings, they prefer dancing around bonfires, like stepping one foot into civilization and one into primitiveness."

Alfred, that's quite a prejudice.

Miss Sharon, also from the Southern Continent, is as graceful as Miss Audrey. This shows that the upper echelons of the Southern Continent maintain a certain level of elegance.

Hastur didn't argue, simply listening to Alfred's descriptions, occasionally asking questions about interesting points.

Alfred was very talkative, and Hastur suspected he was a successful businessman in the Southern Continent.

After about half an hour, Alfred got up to leave, inviting Hastur to a banquet he was hosting in three days.

He didn't mention his plans to establish himself in Southwell County.

Not discussing personal ambitions on a first visit—this was characteristic of the Ruen Kingdom's subtlety.

"Meow."

Aisala jumped onto Hastur's lap, waving a paw towards the gifts Alfred brought.

"He even brought dried fish from the Southern Continent. How thoughtful," Hastur guessed Aisala's intentions, holding her and walking to the table of gifts. He asked a maid to take out the box of dried fish Aisala had her eyes on.

Impatient with the maid's slow pace, Aisala jumped onto the table, tearing into the packaging with her paws and quickly devouring a fragrant dried fish.

Hastur shook his head with a smile, "Aisala, you must learn to eat gracefully."

Aisala, holding the dried fish with both paws, licked it slowly for a moment, glanced disdainfully at Hastur, then resumed her original eating style.

...

"We've made no progress recently. We can't even enter Hastur Campbell's castle. At this rate, we can't report back to the church."

In a second-floor room of an inn, four Red Glove team members discussed their next steps.

Since Ms. Ilya took Leonard to the sea, some time had passed, yet their investigation had made no headway.

Their initial plan was to visit the castle directly, but every attempt to enter had failed.

"We've done our best," someone said, breaking the silence.

Yes, they believed they were working hard, busy every day, exhausted by night, but realized today that they had made no actual progress.

"Let's focus on how to report this to the church," someone suggested, breaking the tense atmosphere.

Knock, knock, knock.

A knock on the door interrupted them. The member nearest the door signaled for quiet and opened it.

An elderly man stood there, wearing a shirt, vest, and suit, with round glasses and a silk top hat. His exposed hair was white, but he looked vigorous, not at all inferior to a young man.

"Sir, what brings you here?"

The old man nodded, "I'm here to help you out of your predicament."

"Predicament? Sir, are you joking?"

"I'm serious."

"But we don't know you. It's hard to believe you. It's late; you should go back and rest."

The old man remained calm, "Haven't you been encountering coincidences lately? Doing busywork that seems useless?"

"How do you know that?"

"I'm here to help you. Listen to me… They're here, so soon."

The old man looked up slightly, then vanished in a burst of bubbles.

The Red Glove members were startled and about to react when their world suddenly shattered.

...

"Whew… it was just a dream!"

They woke in their rooms, wiping sweat from their foreheads.

Hearts still racing, it seemed they hadn't fully recovered from the dream.

"Was it really just a dream?"

The four Red Glove members realized they'd all had the same dream.

The dream's details, the old man's appearance, and words were identical.

If they dismissed this as an ordinary dream, they weren't fit to be Red Gloves.

Understanding this, they felt deep fear.

If the old man was genuinely trying to help, it meant they were in grave danger.

Even the old man had been either scared off or eradicated.

"We must save ourselves!"

This was their first consensus.

"Pause all investigations. Stay together at all times, no one acts alone."

"Contact the church and inform them of our situation."

"Finally, do nothing rash!"

After agreeing, they wrote a letter to send back to Backlund via spirit messenger.

But as they summoned the messenger with a brass whistle, no spirit arrived.

Fear and helplessness spread, like the dark world outside the window.

Tonight, the crimson moonlight did not touch them.

They anxiously discussed ways to escape, some suggesting leaving Punning Port, others creating chaos to flee.

In the end, they found doing nothing was the safest.

As daylight broke, they breathed a slight sigh of relief.