The once before blue color of the water had swapped with the white of the countless banalis. They encircled Himo, staring at him from a few meters of distance.

In such a situation, Himo didn’t prepare himself to defend against the attack, nor did he panic. He simply stared at the cluster of enemies.

To have all these high-rank monsters here… if my hypothesis was correct, then every single one of them would be a past cultivator. But if so many strong figures died in this place… how come the sects sent only disciples?

And not only that, he felt a familiar feeling from each of them. A feeling he used to feel every night during his life on Earth.

Wait… He widened his eyes all of a sudden. I’m underwater… how am I breathing? Focused too much on the monsters, he hadn’t paid attention to it before. He froze for a moment. Without him realizing it, his lips curled up into a smirk.

How could I have failed to notice it? The way those flames moved, how that sand became a hand, and even how my surroundings kept changing… to not talk about the monster I just sent to the outer space!

His gaze went to his hand. He moved it slightly, and the water surrounding it turned into air—air that shouldn't have been there.

“This is a dream, isn’t it? Or at least, something similar to it!” Understanding that, he couldn’t help but laugh. “A dream! And to think I worried this much on what to do!”

The old man overlooking the scene was both startled and dumbfounded by his behavior. “You’re right—or at least, quite close to it. It isn’t a dream, it’s an illusion! However, you’re not the first who noticed it. Kekeke! Many others also did, yet none of them could do anything about it!”

As soon as the old man said those words, the flock of banalis attacked. Coming at him from all sides, their sheer number seemed enough to drown him.

“Indeed.” Himo nodded to his words, uncaring of the monsters. “In a lucid dream, control is necessary to do anything. Unfortunately...” 

He waved his hand toward the monsters—a torrential whirlpool formed around him, draining the ocean as if it had never existed. The countless banalis meanwhile popped like balloons before they could lift a finger.

Before the old man could realize what had happened, the child sat on top of a trone, floating mid-air under the sunlight.

“...When it comes to lucid dreams, I won’t fear even gods.”

The color drained from the old man’s face. He took control of a fourth of this illusion realm! How is this possible?! His shock didn't last long before turning into agitation. Such talent! Like this, he might even be able to take revenge for us! To kill those bastards! 

He opened his eyes, revealing a black sclera that surrounded white irises.

No, I can't be sure yet. Convince me by showing the top of your capabilities first, Shu Himo.

Holding bow and violin, the old man changed the pace of his play. From his earlier moderato, the rhythm quickened to a prestissimo. Each note sounded with the precision of a metronome, their tune waving from a crescendo to a decrescendo, reminiscent of tidal waves.

Following that, the landscape around Himo changed. A massive volcano appeared under him, its magma restless as if trying to flee.

As an answer, Himo tapped the throne’s armrest with a finger.

The ocean which had previously vanished appeared once again, discharging from beneath the throne down to the magma and quelling the latter's restless behavior. Soon, the raging volcano evolved into a volcanic lake.

The old man nodded vehemently at the sight. “If you can resist against this last attack, victory will be yours.” After he said that, his play went into an everlasting crescendo—the music growing stronger and stronger.

Numerous arrows appeared around him, their head aiming at the child. A small yellow gemstone embedded in their nocks with a lightning pattern carved on it. Named “the lightning arrows”, they were legendary ammo capable of reaching the speed of light.

Seeing the arrows, Himo sighed. Is that all? He raised his hand toward the old man. He had already spotted him from a while, only half a kilometer separated the two. I’ll show you what an attack is supposed to look like… Contracting the muscles in his hand, he focused, and… nothing came out.

Eh? Widening his eyes, he stared at his hand in disbelief. Ah, right, he did say that it’s not a dream. Could this place have stricter limits? That’s disappointing. Left with no other choice, he raised a finger and poked the area in front of him.

At the same time, the lightning arrows moved. Moving fast like light, they left a streak of light in their wake as they bent the surrounding air. In but an instant, they reached Himo, when… they got sucked in a tiny black sphere standing in the spot Himo had poked before.

“What?!” The old man gasped. “What is—”

“A black hole,” Himo answered before he could ask. “The absolute gravity they possess hold the ability to trap even light, there is no way that mere arrows can resist its strength.” He smiled. “So, I guess I won?”

Hearing those words, the old man stopped to ponder. I think I saw one of those before… or not? I can’t really remember right now. But still, how does he know of their existence? He looked at Himo in intrigue but didn’t ask any question. Instead, he laughed. “Kekeke! Indeed, you’ve won! Follow me, I’ll teach you how to use the violin to its full capabilities!”

-----

Five hours later, the two stood in a room. Floor, walls, and ceiling were built using wooden planks, glimmering as if they had just been cleaned. The room lacked any furniture. Its purpose was exclusively for playing the violin.

After talking for several hours, the next thing to do was practice.

“...And that’s all you need to know for the moment.” The old man held a passionate expression. Who knew what kind of marvelous play would this genius create? He couldn’t wait to find out. “Now, try it yourself.”

Himo nodded and took the instrument, positioning as he had been taught a few minutes before, then moved the bow close to the violin’s neck. His expression turned solemn. Closing his eyes, he dragged the bow on the strings with a fluidity reminiscing that of an elephant stomping on a drum.

The violin screeched.