Chapter Twelve: Even the Grass in My Dreams Is Edible

In the deep silence of night, Linley slept soundly.

In a haze, something seemed to tug at him, pulling him into a strange place. Brilliant sunlight bathed his body, and the forest was lush and tranquil, the chirping of insects and birds distinctly audible. He sat atop a tall tree trunk, swinging his legs, holding a pear in his left hand and a peach in his right, with several large watermelons beside him. He took bites here and there, bent over for another mouthful, his face dripping with juice.

“Where am I?” he wondered.

Half-sated, Linley realized something: he had never been here before.

It was a vast forest; from his perch, all he could see was an endless expanse of verdant trees, nothing else. The forest was eerily immense, and even more unsettling—here, it was as warm as spring.

“Strange, I was sleeping peacefully… How did I suddenly leave the royal palace and end up here, with even the season changed?”

Linley suspected he might have lost his memory, otherwise, how could the story have progressed so quickly?

“…Well, never mind. As long as there’s food, that’s all that matters.”

Unable to fathom it, he tossed the question aside—this place was simply too delightful, everything was edible. Earlier, he’d even nibbled on a few blades of grass, which astonishingly tasted like strawberries. The flavor was so good that Linley nearly questioned his own reality!

Even if he suddenly turned into a sheep, he wouldn’t find it odd.

Of course… Linley hadn’t lost his memory.

A white giant bear lurked in the forest, secretly observing Linley. Seeing his carefree demeanor, the bear was quite astonished.

It had witnessed many newcomers to this world, most of whom reacted with panic and confusion. Linley, however, was the first it had seen so unconcerned, with his only priority being to find something to eat—and his tastes were unique.

“Could he really just be a child?”

The giant bear watched Linley warily. After half an hour passed with no sign of trouble, it decided to approach him.

Linley felt the ground tremble beneath him.

“Oh my!” He quickly tossed aside his fruit and clung to the giant tree.

“What’s happening?”

Before he could gather his thoughts, a green arrow flashed before his eyes. Amid the burst of wind, a strange yet vaguely familiar hand grabbed him, whisking him high above the forest.

“Waaah!”

After a dizzying spin, Linley was placed on a hillside.

“Linley, are you alright?”

A melodious voice inquired. Linley shook his head, finding a stranger standing beside him. Her face was masked with leaves, but her graceful figure and long ears marked her unmistakably as an elf.

The elven woman gripped a lavishly adorned longbow in her right hand, with a quiver at her waist radiating a formidable power. Her large blue eyes fixed on Linley, evoking a sense of familiarity.

“You are…”

Linley began to ask, but a thunderous roar interrupted him.

“Windwalker, you ambushed me!”

The wounded white bear appeared above the forest, instantly drawing Linley’s attention: “What a tall bear!”

This bear towered above even the tree Linley had just sat on, an arrow lodged in its head, and its two furious eyes glowed like blood-red lanterns over the treetops.

Linley grabbed a handful of vines and stuffed them into his mouth to steady his nerves. The elf woman stepped forward, shielding him: “Lord Demigod of the Wild, this is the Elven Palace. What brings you here?”

Demigod of the Wild? Elven Palace?

Linley’s heart stirred. He glanced around—could this be the Wild Dreamscape?

Like two sides of a coin, the Wild Dreamscape was the counterpart to the material world, a pristine forest said to be forged from the dreams of creatures in the primary realm—though Linley doubted that.

“No wonder it’s still summer—so I’m dreaming.”

Linley understood at last. The Wild Dreamscape was not the physical world; he existed here only as a manifestation of will. No wonder even the grass tasted edible… Hmm, he wondered what soil would taste like.

The elven woman was filled with regret. She’d been careless—although she had anticipated that Linley might face danger soon, she had never imagined an attack would come from the dream world.

The Elven Palace was heavily guarded, protected by powerful spells, making it impossible for anyone to intrude easily.

But demigods of the wild were different. They had pulled sleeping Linley from the palace’s mirrored position in the dreamscape, acting with great caution. If not for the elf’s constant vigilance over Linley, she might never have detected it.

“Demigods, you have always refrained from mortal affairs. Why do you now intrude upon us?”

The elven woman pressed further.

The white bear looked down at her, angered but not daring to underestimate her. Though she appeared young, the aura she exuded was enough to inflict grave wounds.

Windwalker—the unique vocation of forest elves, blending archery and magic, allowing the strongest to kill from miles away. The woman before him was such a formidable Windwalker; the bear had not encountered one of her caliber in centuries.

“We mean no offense, Windwalker,” the bear replied. “We merely seek to inquire about the Grand Prophecy you have concealed—we sensed a threat to the world within it.”

“Grand Prophecy…” The elf’s heart tightened. “Why would you find it linked to him?”

She concealed her perturbation, and the bear could not see through her powerful disguise.

“We discovered traces left by the Grand Prophecy—this child may be the key to unraveling it.”

The bear looked at Linley, who, bewilderingly, was munching on grass again!

Centuries had passed, yet even the elves’ tastes seemed to have changed.

The bear sighed inwardly; seeking Linley was its only option.

Due to history, forest elves had always been unfriendly to those of higher rank. They had probed the Grand Prophecy for ages but found nothing.

The elven mages bore deep-seated hatred for the demigods, and the latter did not wish to provoke war lightly, so the bear was chosen to test the waters.

Though it thought its actions flawless, the elf still detected it.

“I only wish to speak with this child. I will not harm him.”

The bear stepped forward, making the earth rumble.

“Stop right there. Do not approach him.”

The elf nocked her bow, the arrow shrouded in green magical energy. “You broke your promises before. We no longer trust any god’s word.”

The bear’s tone turned sour: “Windwalker, though you are strong, don’t forget—this is my domain.”

“You’re welcome to try another step,” the elf threatened. “Don’t underestimate the elders of my clan.”

The bear’s expression changed, suddenly sensing terrifying energies at the edge of the dream.

“Your mages are arriving!” it exclaimed in shock. “You intend to break the covenant!”

The elf did not reply, but her gaze was steadfast.

The bear hesitated. In the past, mages and demigods of the wild had forged a pact, though many clauses had since been voided. Yet one remained, honored by both sides: mages would not enter the dreamscape, and wild demigods would not enter the material world.

Demigods of the wild were born in the dreamscape, and could only be destroyed there; in the material world, they were immortal, and mages forbade them from running rampant there.

Meanwhile, mages were renowned for their powerful souls. Once in the dreamscape, freed from the constraints of flesh, they wielded limitless magical power.

Demigods slay mages in the material world; mages slay demigods in the dreamscape—a cycle nearly impossible to break. Several wars had erupted, and ultimately, the pact was revised to prevent either from entering the other’s world.

The bear and the elf stared at each other for a long time, before the bear finally chose to retreat.

“Fine, I won’t approach the child. Call your mages back.”

It stepped back. “We’ll speak at this distance!”

The elf lowered her bow, and Linley, who had been watching the scene unfold, perked up.

“So is it my turn now? I thought I didn’t have a role anymore!” He tossed aside the stone in his hand; if he wasn’t given his moment soon, he’d have to eat the stone as well. “Demigod, I know who threatens the world—it must be the demons!”

The bear fixed its gaze on him. “Demons?”

“If anything can threaten the world, what else could it be but demons?” Linley looked at the bear as if it were a fool.

“Impossible!” the bear protested, angered by the jest. “Demons have been banished from this world; they cannot return!”

“Don’t be so certain.” Linley waved his hand dismissively. “I’ve seen demons; they’re still active here. I even… ah, what comes next is a secret…”

“What did you say?” The bear glared at Linley. “You’ve seen demons!”

Linley nodded. “You’re a demigod; could I possibly deceive you?”

The elf watched Linley in astonishment. What was going on? Could Linley have discovered he was the prophesied destroyer?

He deliberately made up such a story to divert the bear’s attention, but such a simple lie—he couldn’t possibly fool a demigod!

The elf glanced at the bear, only to find it plunged into deep silence.

“Could it truly believe him?” she wondered in surprise.

The bear regarded Linley with suspicion. Though it withheld some information, it had not lied—few could lie to it in the Wild Dreamscape and remain undiscovered. This little elf was odd, but not powerful enough to deceive it.

“I will investigate,” the bear said, turning to leave. “If you lied, I will return for you.”

“You dare!” the elf shouted angrily. “Touch him again and I’ll kill you!”

“You cannot kill me as you are now,”

The bear replied coldly, without turning back.

The elf glared after its retreating form, vowing that someday she would personally slay the bear that dared threaten her brother.

Linley harbored a similar thought, though he didn’t dislike the bear; on the contrary, he even liked it—a fondness for food.

In the dreamscape, Linley had eaten all sorts of things, gradually realizing the world was formed from a peculiar energy. Everything he consumed vanished—perhaps flowing into the material world, into his sleeping body.

In theory, everything in the Wild Dreamscape could be his food.

“If only it would come back to find me in ten years,”

Linley mused. In ten years, perhaps he’d be able to eat even that bear.