Chapter no.4 Dreamland Array

Dreamland Array, an elaborate creation of the Murim world, is an enigmatic masterpiece that has been shrouded in intrigue and deception. Its precise origin remains an enigma, attributed to an unidentified man whose identity has been lost to the annals of history. It functions as an intricately layered reality simulator, shaping an immersive dreamscape that is indistinguishable from the tangible world, and is used by the highest-ranking sects to cultivate their disciples. These disciples, under the illusion of reality, are thrust into a myriad of simulated battles, each one designed to hone their combat skills, sharpen their strategic minds, and temper their mental fortitude. Over time, a falsehood spread by the Murim Alliance – claiming themselves as the architects of this extraordinary device – has been widely accepted as truth. This unchallenged lie, spun with the expertise of a master weaver, has been perpetuated due to the original creator's inexplicable silence, embedding itself into the collective belief system of the Murim world.

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[ Zhongli's POV ] 

My eyes flicker open to complete darkness, a void so absolute it feels as if I'm still in the grips of a dream. Suddenly, an ominous rustling sound breaks the silence, followed by a swift, violent rush of air. Instinctively, I leap to the side, feeling the sinister whoosh of something monstrous passing where I stood moments ago. Tucking into a roll, I rummage through my robes and pull out a luminous talisman. I pour my spiritual Qi into the relic, feeling the familiar thrum of energy as it vibrates in response. 

The talisman flares to life, its ethereal glow piercing the all-consuming darkness and illuminating the room around me. It's a classroom, oddly enough, filled with rows of wooden desks and chairs, all dust-laden and long abandoned. 

As my gaze shifts to the front of the room, my blood turns to ice. Standing there is a humanoid creature ripped straight from my nightmares. Its body is a grotesque amalgamation of human and monster, a hulking figure shrouded in an atmosphere of malevolence. Its skin is a sickly, pallid hue, covered in a network of veins pulsating with a nauseating purple glow. Its head is a devil's head, complete with twisted horns that curl back on themselves, ending in razor-sharp points. A set of deep-set, blood-red eyes burn with a cruel, savage intelligence, glaring at me with an insatiable hunger. A mouth filled with rows of serrated teeth, like blades, stretches across its face in a wide, sadistic grin. Each breath it takes sounds like the roar of an engine, filling the room with a bone-chilling resonance. 

My grip tightened on the talisman, the only source of light in this room, as I prepare to face this nightmarish abomination.

I hold the luminous talisman in one hand and reach for the twin daggers sheathed at my waist with the other. The cold touch of their handles, engraved with ancient glyphs, provides a semblance of comfort. I ready myself, centering my focus on the Way of the Tranquil Stream, my movements as serene and steadfast as the ancient martial art commands. 

With a bestial roar, the abomination lunges, its talons slicing through the air with deadly intent. Anticipating its trajectory, I employ the Boulder Shift, my body mimicking the immovable strength of a stone as I divert its momentum and let it crash into a nearby desk. 

But the creature is quick to recover, its blood-red eyes blazing with a cruel intelligence. I use the Pebble Ripple, feinting a strike to the left before swiftly changing direction and slicing a deep gash into its right arm. The creature howls in pain, its blood splattering onto the dust-laden floor.

Its fury ignited, the abomination retaliates with a wild sweep of its claws. But I am the Rippling Current, a stream dancing around a mountain, flowing around its attack before driving my dagger into a pressure point in its shoulder. The Stone's Touch technique leaves its arm limp and useless, and the creature roars, its voice echoing eerily in the abandoned classroom.

Yet, the creature is not easily defeated. Its remaining arm swings around, catching me off guard. I barely manage to deflect its attack with my dagger, a sharp sting flaring across my arm as its claws graze me. Blood seeps into my robe, but I push the pain aside, focusing on the battle at hand.

Realizing the need for a more aggressive approach, I unleash the Waterfall Cascade, my daggers becoming a whirlwind of precise strikes aimed at its exposed pressure points. Each hit lands with deadly accuracy, each slice a step closer to disrupting its Qi flow.

The beast roars and stumbles, its movements becoming erratic as it struggles to maintain balance. Seizing the moment, I shift to the Riverbed Grasp, grappling the creature, and with a swift, precise strike, I drive my dagger into a hidden pressure point on its lower back. Its legs buckle, and the monstrosity collapses onto the ground.

But the battle is far from over. The creature writhes on the floor, its body convulsing as it fights against the paralysis. Taking a step back, I prepare for the final technique – Spring's Awakening. I must be swift, I must be precise.

I rush forward, my daggers becoming an extension of my will. I strike multiple pressure points in a calculated sequence, each hit reverberating through its body, disrupting its Qi flow, causing temporary paralysis. The creature's movements falter, its monstrous form shuddering as the energy pathways within it buckle under the attack.

With a final, guttural roar, the abomination's form goes still, its pulsating veins fading to a sickly pallor. Its monstrous form slumps, a grotesque statue in the faint glow of my talisman. I stand over it, my chest heaving, daggers slick with its vile blood. The battle was a gruesome dance, a deadly ballet marked by blood, sweat, and the sharp tang of fear.

Yet, victory tastes bittersweet. I sheathe my daggers, their cold metal tainted by the monstrous ichor. The talisman's glow starts to wane, casting long, eerie shadows across the room. The creature's form lies lifeless, a chilling testament to the night's brutal encounter.

I pause, looking at the abomination one last time. There's a strange sense of tranquility that washes over me, a calmness that belies the brutal battle that had just transpired. It's the peace that follows a storm, the quiet hush that descends upon a battlefield after the last sword has been swung.

Wiping the sweat off my brow, I retrieve the talisman and tuck it back into my robes, letting the darkness reclaim the room. The quiet is broken only by my ragged breaths, each exhale a testament to my survival.

My wounds ache, a grim reminder of the creature's strength, but I find solace in the pain. It's proof of my victory, proof of my existence.

As I step away from the lifeless figure, the room cloaked in darkness seems less intimidating than before. It feels more akin to a companion, a trusted friend who accompanies me in solitude.

In the depths of my robe, my fingers close around a worn, parchment map of the Cradle of Shadows school. Pulling it out, I lay it on one of the dilapidated desks, the faint glow of my talisman casting a spectral light over its intricate details. Accompanying the map is a bone, small and unassuming, yet vital to my plans.

From within the folds of my robe, I summon a fire spirit, a small, flickering entity that dances in my palm, casting playful shadows around the room. It turns its luminous gaze towards me, waiting for my command.

Taking a deep breath, I channel my spiritual Qi into the bone. The energy hums, intertwining with my essence, a silent promise of the task to come. With a final look at the bone, I cast it into the waiting fire spirit. 

The bone ignites immediately, burning with an ethereal blue flame that illuminates the room, casting a mystic light on the forgotten classroom. The fire spirit hovers over the map, and a ghostly projection of the school emerges from the flames. It floats in the air, casting a spectral glow over the room. The school, in all its intricate details, lies bare before me.

I knew what the principal intended. The Martial Essence Scrolls, the ultimate prize of this examination, were hidden somewhere within this school. The first student to locate them would claim the coveted first place and garner the attention of the higher-ups.

My mind wanders back to Yuzhen, the strongest contender. I knew she would strive to finish this test as swiftly as possible, driven by her desire to claim first place as she would know everything about the test because of the principal. But I had been observant enough to manage to tag her with a bone tracking talisman a week before the test.

Using her blood as a beacon, I had created a tracking talisman disguised as a petty act of revenge, a move that played perfectly into my apparent weakness. She had no reason to kill me and every reason to underestimate me. That was my trump card.

Now, I could sense her location, the subtle pull of her blood guiding me. My eyes moved over the ethereal projection, pinpointing her position in the school. A soft smile crept up on my face as I realized where she was.

The library.

It made sense. A place filled with knowledge, a place where one might hide something as valuable as the Martial Essence Scrolls.

Without wasting a moment, I moved towards the window. The remnants of our battle lay strewn around, a testament to the brutal fight. With one swift movement, I shattered the window with the hilt of my dagger, the sound echoing in the eerie silence.

I reached into my robe one last time, pulling out a flight talisman. Pressing it against my chest, I could feel its energy pulsating against my skin, a silent promise of flight. With a final glance at the room, I leapt through the shattered window, the night air rushing past me as I soared into the darkness.

The Cradle of Shadows school unfurls beneath me, an intricate maze of secrets and trials. Nevertheless, equipped with my intellect and unyielding resolve, I am determined to emerge victorious.

Yuzhen may possess the formidable strength and the advantage of the principal's favoritism, yet her superiority only fuels my drive for retaliation. Her potential triumph, snatched from under her very nose, promises to be a sweet revenge indeed. The thought of such poetic justice warms my heart amidst the cool night air.

.....

A shadow darted from rooftop to rooftop, invisible in the dark cover provided by the moonless night in the Dreamland array 

It stopped for a second when it reached the mass of the Tower of Tomes.

The Tower was a round building, painted in red, flanked by two smaller buildings of the same fashion. It was actually shorter than the blue topped training arena that stood next to it like an erect finger. 

Steadying its breathing, the shadow counted wordlessly. At some signal only they were privy to, the figure sprinted and jumped, latching itself to a gutter running along the wall of the training arena. Like some otherworldly cat, the shadow climbed up, using the tiniest holds in-between the white bricks that made the wall. With careful grace, the shadow reached the blue roof. It was a pointy wood construct, looking much like a witch's hat, with a strange sphere on top.

The shadow kept climbing until it was in the middle of the roof. Slowly, the individual took a length of rope and tied it solidly to one of the protruding beams of the blue roof. Glancing at its target, the flat roof of one of the secondary tower, the shadow smiled widely.

"This is completely crazy," whisper the individual, the vibrato of excitement clear for all to hear.

Meaning no one, at this hour of the night. The shadow shuddered. It had one try and one try only as he saw similar monsters to the one he had fought in the classroom guarding the library.

Circling around the pointy roof, the shadow inhaled deeply. And started to run down and back toward the Tower of Tomes.

The maths had proven that, in theory, the pendulum movement would allow the shadow to reach one of the secondary tower. The critical part was the speed but the individual was confident; running fast was their game.

At breakneck speed, wind whistling in its hair, the rope unrolling behind, the shadow ran on an oblique trajectory on the arena wall and suddenly, jumped. The rope whizzed as the shadow fell, gravity taking what was her by right. The pendulum movement began as the rope was stretched to the max, the beam it was anchored to whining slightly. The figure was catapulted up by its momentum and suddenly, the individual felt weightless. It was at this point they cut the harness.

Zhongli fell like an anvil and with a grunt, impacted the tiled roof of the northern secondary tower none too gently. Breaking the shock the best he could with a roll, the cloaked blond ended his course in the ornamental bushes that crowned the outer ridge of the tower.

"Ow ow ow," Zhongli muttered, as low as he could, wary of the potential guard. 

He knew, according to his observations that he should be right between rotations of the monsters that had some intelligence but still, the goal was to go unnoticed.

The dark skinned boy took a second to dust himself. His black shirt was in tatter and his navy blue pants were torn at the knee. He had multiple cuts, the entire right side of his body hurt, and his left ankle was probably sprained but extraordinarily, he was fine. 

Zhongli checked his various pockets to check everything was still where it was supposed to be and nodded to himself.

The rush had been great, the fall thrilling, and the second of weightlessness amazing but he was not doing that again. Ever. 

Zhongli was a daredevil alright but that had been suicidal, in retrospect. The best entry possible, hell, the best entry ever as the rooftops were rarely patrolled by the monsters but still, it had been a close call.

From the roof he was on, climbing on the main tower was a piece of cake. The first and second levels of each tower were protected so that it was virtually impossible to climb them, regardless of the technique. The third level was the same but the problem was nullified by various pipes and large cables running around the circumference of the Tower.

Zhongli had no idea of their purpose but right now, they made perfect holds to climb from one roof to another.

Taking a second to breathe, Naruto entered the tower. The easy part was done. 

Navigating the corridors and hiding from the patrolling pairs of smaller monsters, with the occasional giant eye, was boringly easy and Zhongli was quick to make it to his goal. The vault was sealed shut obviously but Zhongli knew how to pick the toughest lock. 

Zhongli fished in his pocket and retrieved one of his best invention, something he was especially proud of.

In his right hand, the dark skinned boy was holding a scroll that he promptly unrolled in front of the door. Holding his hands as he channeled Spiritual Qi into the scroll and whispered.

"Sensory Mirror Wall."

The air shimmered around the dark skinned boy and shifted. Now, Zhongli had exactly four minutes to pick one of the most difficult lock, hidden by a illusion-like barrier inscription array of his own making.

"Let's open you up."

Three minutes and forty second and one absolutely oblivious patrol later, the vault opened. 

Zhongli guessed more than he knew for certain, that he had probably triggered an inscription array based alarm but he could not do much about it. If there was inscription array somewhere, it was too high level for him to detect it.

Wasting not a moment, for time had become the most precious of commodities, Zhongli ventured into the fortified vault. His fingers closed around the sought-after scroll with a sense of urgency.

In the distance, a symphony of firework fuses sizzled to their ends, propelling their radiant cargo into the vast night sky. The school grounds were bathed in a festive g

low, signaling the conclusion of the Martial Skeleton Examination.