Maze City.
The center of the Lost Domain.
The entire city is a natural gigantic maze, and without the permission of the Lost Monarch, anyone who recklessly enters will never be able to leave.
In the depths of the maze, on the Seven-Colored Throne, which symbolizes supre authority, a king with a form so magnificent it’s imasurable, covered in billions of maze patterns, is slumbering.
Legend has it that the lifespan of the Lost Monarch is beyond estimation;
it’s older than many gods.
Legend also tells that it embodies the most primal fear of confusion, loss, and the unknown for billions of beings.
In the Nightmare World, where strong ones are as nurous as clouds, among the more active monarchs of this era, its strength also ranks among the top.
It beca too powerful and too bored. So it nurtured within itself a bizarre maze beyond ordinary imagination. .
They wander eternally in this lost land, in infinite cycles of death and rebirth.
Since ancient tis, no life has been able to escape its internal maze.
They are called: the Lost.
But today, the Lost Monarch on the throne opened its ancient eyes that have been closed for tens of thousands of years, letting out a light exclamation.
There might be a "little" problem with its maze.
"Interesting."
Throughout the ages, the Lost Monarch’s maze has trapped countless lost ones above level 6, and even 63 level-9 lost ones.
When it puts life into the maze, it doesn’t strip them of their cultivation ability.
On the contrary, it sets up many interesting mini-gas within the maze.
Those who manage to complete them can even receive rewards from the maze.
Watching these lives repeatedly cycle between hope and despair is the greatest pleasure of the Lost Monarch.
As for those who caused problems in its maze, it doesn’t rember when it placed them there.
It vaguely recalls that this group of adventure-loving, knowledge-seeking but short-lived wretches accidentally offended it by capturing "Pan", a descendant it left in the Nightmare World at an unknown ti, and using it to enter and exit the Nightmare World.
The Lost Monarch casually put most of them into the maze, and the rest mostly perished in the Nightmare World as well.
Oh right, they seem to call themselves the "School of Dreams", an organization called "Dreamland Steeple", and their leader is so "Daydream Wizard".
The Lost Monarch just thinks that these short-lived species, who live and die in a day, are fearless like newborn calves, wanting to delve into the most complex dreamscape?
...
The sky was like a bright mirror, reflecting on the clear lake surface, where the white clouds were mirrored gently, and the mottled sunlight ward and cozily coated the lake.
By the lakeside, there was a small wooden cabin.
A middle-aged man with white hair at his temples, his face slightly weathered, was writing sothing on the table. ssy drafts were scattered all over the floor.
What he was writing was a book.
Its title was: "Dream Analysis Version 1001 — Freud".
At an unknown ti, behind him, a terrifying figure suddenly appeared, impossible to look at directly.
"Daydream WitchFrode, is this your na?"
The Lost Monarch asked.
The middle-aged man raised his head and adjusted his thick glasses.
"Yes, Mr. Rostrevor."
The Lost Monarch smiled and said:
"How did you know my true na?"
The middle-aged man replied:
"Sir, I have cycled 1001 tis within you, I am a person who is good at discovery, always able to get so clues."
The Lost Monarch couldn’t help applauding.
"Most people emotionally collapse and have their minds destroyed after just one cycle inside , so excellent level-6s might endure a dozen tis, and very few level-9s might process hundreds. And yet, you have cycled 1001 tis while I was asleep, impressive indeed."
It looked toward that book.
"May I take a look?"
The middle-aged man nodded, handed it to the Lost Monarch, and softly said:
"Knowledge is ant to be shared. Mr. Rostrevor, this book is yours to keep. Consider it a farewell gift. I’ve learned much from here."
The Lost Monarch laughed uproariously.
"Do you trust yourself so much to escape my control, to leave this Endless Labyrinth? Do you know that within the ’Lake Cottage’ maze sleeps a level-10 being self-proclaid as the Dream God?"
The middle-aged man said:
"I know, in fact, I’ve already communicated with it, and I have even tried to convince it to resist, but its mind is already lost, becoming a Heartless with only divine power left. Indeed, sir’s strength is formidable, I must admit."
The Lost Monarch snapped its fingers.
This world’s blue skies, clouds, the wild earth began to dissolve, revealing its true form.
That was a gigantic humanoid creature, with a size beyond calculation.
It slept in this world, its breath transford into clouds, drool at the mouth beca lakes, body hair into mountain ranges, and its heart was empty.
The Lost Monarch said:
"It is called Chupnos, wielding a portion of Dream’s Authority, known as the Dream God among many mortal civilizations, and so believers call it the Sleep God. Its ambition was too great, trying to grasp my power, and I sent it into the maze. Unknowingly, it has slept here for almost two hundred thousand years, likely its followers have nearly forgotten it too. Do you think you’re stronger than it?"
The middle-aged man said:
"My strength may not surpass it, but perhaps I understand what dreams are more than it does? After all, it was the believers who uplifted it to the altar;
it may not ever comprehend why it could wield the power of dreams, so it ignorantly ca to challenge you, sir."
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