The Outergod's Avatar-Chapter 49: The Corpse Market (2)

A bright green light glowed from Izikel’s hand as Lyzah healed it.

She restored the entire finger, but now there was a scar circling it like a permanent ring.

"That’s good, Lyzah. You’ve gotten better," Felvin said, though even saying those words seemed to take all his strength.

"Thank you," Izikel said, flexing the new finger.

"I should be the one thanking you," she muttered with a slight blush.

Izikel hardly noticed. His mind was elsewhere, lost in thought. He was too busy contemplating their situation. They couldn’t stay here forever, waiting for a miracle to happen. Something had to be done.

"We can’t just wait here. We have to escape," he said suddenly, his expression firm.

"But how?" Lyzah asked.

"I don’t know yet. But I’ll figure it out," he answered with quiet determination.

It had to be him. Felvin was too weak to move, and Lyzah was too easily scared. If they were going to survive, it was up to Izikel.

He sat alone in the night, surrounded by darkness, the weight of responsibility pressing down on him. The only thought on his mind was that their lives were in his hands. Their survival depended on him to figure a way out. No one was coming to save him.

His soul energy was already halfway drained. He’d only fired the gun once, but he had summoned it twice before that. With the Altar so far away, there was no way to refill his energy. Every drop left had to be used wisely.

What can I create that can help?

But that wasn’t the right question. Dream creation wasn’t the answer this time. Making that gun had taken so much energy. If he tried to make something even bigger, he might collapse before it was done, and besides, what could he even create that would help them escape?

Still, Dream creation wasn’t his only ability.

That thought gave him an idea. A long shot. A stupid idea, really. But maybe... just maybe... it could work. 𝚏𝕣𝐞𝗲𝐰𝕖𝐛𝐧𝕠𝕧𝚎𝚕.𝐜𝚘𝗺

He closed his eyes and whispered, "Dream."

In an instant, the world faded. He was no longer sitting in the cold night. Instead, he stood under the endless sky of the Dream World, stars hovering like lanterns in the dark.

"Welcome back," said the Dream Guide,

"I don’t have much time," Izikel said, feeling the soul energy continuing to burn away.

He looked up at the stars, each one representing someone’s dream. He could recognize a few—Lyzah’s, Sophia’s. But there were new ones now, too. People he had come into contact with recently: Raynoel, the guard who carried him, even the Legion commander.

But he wasn’t here for them.

His eyes locked onto a dream that pulsed faintly in the distance.

The heretic boy. The one who had placed the gag over his mouth. The son of the boss. That was their way out.

Using his Dreamwalking ability, he dove into the dream.

"What memory do you want him to dream?" asked the Dream Guide.

"Any of them. I just need him to see me. Is that possible?"

"Yes, if you want to I can take you to his current dream but, I figured you preferred not to be seen?"

"Not this time."

The images swirled around him and collapsed into a single bright light. He stepped forward, letting himself be pulled in.

Inside the dream, the heretic boy was chasing a chicken around what looked like a barnyard.

Izikel swallowed hard. He was risking everything on this moment. His soul energy was draining faster now. There wouldn’t be another chance.

"Hey," he called, but the boy kept running after the chicken.

"Excuse me!" he said louder, but the boy still didn’t respond.

"Are you sure he can hear me?" Izikel asked the guide.

"I think so. Maybe just speak louder,"

"Okay."

Izikel floated closer to the boy, still in his ghost-like form.

"I SAID EXCUSE ME!" His voice thundered across the dreamscape, echoing off invisible walls.

The boy dropped to the ground in fear. Slowly, he looked up, eyes wide, and saw Izikel hovering in the air.

"You- you’re that Lunar Priest boy," the heretic said, stunned. "What are you doing out of your cage?"

He reached for Izikel, but his hand passed straight through. He didn’t realize he was dreaming. That could work to Izikel’s advantage.

Izikel had learned something important about Dreamwalking: if he was inside someone’s dream, he could change it. He could shift the surroundings, alter his own appearance, amplify his voice.

That would be enough for today.

"Silence! How dare you speak before your god," Izikel boomed, letting his voice shake the dream.

This was the plan: convince the boy that he was a god.

It was stupid. Completely ridiculous. But it was the only shot he had left.

He knew the Heretics worshipped a god of destruction. Maybe he could use that to their advantage.

The boy’s eyes grew wide. "Are you... are you really Mawgath?"

’So that’s the name. I knew it had "Maw" in it’

"Yes, my child. I am Mawgath," he said.

He tapped into his soul energy, altering his size, making himself appear larger than life. He added a glowing white cloak and a beast-like mask. Then, for good measure, he threw in a faint hum of ominous, heavenly music. All this edit drained his energy faster but, they were necessary.

The boy dropped to his knees, trembling.

"I’m sorry, Lord Mawgath! If I had known I was in the presence of the mighty god of destruction, I never would have spoken to you that way!"

It worked! Izikel smirked.

Now came the hard part—convincing the boy to do something useful in the real world, once he woke up. But if he played this right, the boy would believe every word.

He floated down slightly, letting his cloak billow dramatically.

"You have been chosen," he declared, voice still echoing with divine power. "Chosen to serve your god. Obey, and I shall grant you favor."

"Yes! Yes, anything, my lord!" the boy cried.

Izikel smiled to himself, though his energy was dangerously low now.