Chapter 51: Dreamscape
“What new door?”
[You haven’t ascended yet, so I won’t tell you.]
Xu Zhi: “…Fine.”
Pretty principled, huh.
But when it came to “ascension,” Xu Zhi was still completely in the dark. This wasn’t like the evolution points for her familiars, where there was a clear progress bar.
She had already consumed quite a few [Moth] attribute cores—so why did she still not feel the slightest hint of “ascension”?
Now that she thought about it, what does ascending even feel like for an ability-user? She really didn’t know…
Was the core difference between human and familiar ascension really that drastic? The amount of cores she’d eaten could’ve easily raised a familiar from level 1 to 10 or beyond.
Do other ability-users also struggle this much to ascend?
Wait, no—other ability-users wouldn’t have this many cores to burn through in the first place.
With no proper comparison, Xu Zhi felt even more lost. Fortunately, soon the old residential district would welcome a new wave of inhabitants. Once that happened, she could probe a bit and figure out whether she was different from the others.
That night, before bed, after feeding cores to her familiars, Xu Zhi ate a few [Moth] attribute cores herself and let the hallucinatory moths they summoned serve as sleep aids.
To be honest, she’d grown accustomed to the gray moths that fluttered into her view every time she consumed cores. They weren’t aggressive, didn’t make any noise, and aside from feeling a bit dizzy when stared at for too long, they caused no harm. They even faded away on their own.
Eating a few cores and watching the moths before bed—it made her fall asleep quite easily.
Only this night, Xu Zhi unusually…dreamt.
In her dream, she seemed to be walking through a forest of pure white. Towering trees reached into the clouds, and countless paths spread out before her in all directions. She stood at a fork in the road.
Xu Zhi’s mind felt hazy. She didn’t even know who she was or where she was. She could barely make out the road ahead—everything was too blindingly white, her eyes couldn’t even fully open.
The ground beneath her feet felt soft, as if she were stepping on something yielding, making even the act of walking difficult.
Suddenly, a softly glowing moth appeared ahead of her. This moth was different—remarkably beautiful, rivaling even the most famous butterflies. Xu Zhi’s gaze was drawn in, and she instinctively reached out to catch it.
But just as her fingertips were about to touch it, the moth flitted forward.
Unwilling to let it escape, Xu Zhi forced her heavy legs forward, staggering after it. Maybe it was because this was a dream, but her field of vision was incredibly narrow. The blinding whiteness around her made everything hazy—only the moth remained in focus.
As she chased the moth, her peripheral vision seemed to catch glimpses of towering silent trees, each casting black shadows that in her blurry sight looked like twisted monsters.
A strange sense of danger crept into Xu Zhi’s chest. She felt like something was going to catch up to her if she didn’t run faster.
Noise buzzed in her ears, like the white static of an old television. She hadn’t been running long before exhaustion overwhelmed her. She wanted to stop—but she didn’t dare. Some unknown dread urged her to keep going.
By the time Xu Zhi was gasping for breath, feeling like she could no longer go on, only one thought dominated her mind: frustration.
She was sick of this—this panicked, desperate feeling of endlessly running.
She had to wake up, or she was going to break.
At the peak of her frustration, the dream shattered.
Xu Zhi woke up with a gasp.
For the first five seconds after opening her eyes, her gaze was blank, and her heart pounded wildly before slowly calming.
Her mind went empty for a while before she finally registered that—yes—she had just woken from a dream.
“What a load of nonsense,” she muttered.
But even as she said it, Xu Zhi instinctively understood: the dream was similar to the one Shen Jinwen had experienced when she awakened her ability-user power. It was a sign—a preview—that Xu Zhi was about to ascend to the next level of her ability-user state.
It was something she felt, almost instinctually…or maybe the dream had told her so.
But unlike familiars, human ability-users didn’t ascend automatically just by collecting enough resources. Ascension was accompanied by some kind of danger…
A danger she had desperately tried to flee from in her dream.
“Tch… what a pain. Don’t tell me I’ll have to keep escaping in dreams like this?”
Xu Zhi sighed—but at least now, she had a clue about her path to advancement.
She checked the time—exactly 5 a.m.
By 8, after her familiars returned from their nightly excursions, she planned to take them to the Nanshan villa district.
She borrowed a knife from Shen Jinwen—who, oddly enough, had a stash of well-sharpened Tang-style swords. Xu Zhi had once asked her how to use a blade, and although she’d only learned the basics, she at least knew how to handle one.
She tucked a piece of withered wood into her pocket, mounted her wolf (now larger than an average one), and set off toward the villas. Zhen flew high above to scout and guide, while Yi moved unseen in the shadows.
Thankfully, her enhanced physique from her Strength trait let her ride stably on the wolf’s back at high speeds—otherwise, this would’ve been a real challenge.
Who needs cars when this is so much better?
Even with her familiar’s speed, the detour-heavy route took nearly twenty minutes to reach the villa district.
As soon as she arrived, Xu Zhi used the subtle telepathic link with her familiars to sense that Zhen had already spotted the defenders posted outside the villa perimeter.
“Drag them all out. Disarm them, but don’t kill or cripple anyone.”
With that order, Yi and Zhen swooped into action.
The enemy never even saw Xu Zhi’s figure. They were forcefully yanked out of their hiding spots by the sudden snake and falcon ambush and tossed into the open. Only then did they see a girl calmly approaching—riding a wolf.
Xu Zhi activated her [Eye of Secrets] and glanced at the downed group. Then, casually, she said:
“Notify Zhong Lingfan.”
She knew they had ways to communicate with Zhong Lingfan. She wanted them to notify her precisely so she’d have time to prepare—and still lose.
Only then would she submit.
This was also a way to make sure the group would behave after relocating to the old residential district.
