After getting a clear look at his face, I glanced back at Viola standing beside me.
...They really don’t look alike at all.
Aside from sharing the same hair color, the difference between them was so striking it was hard to believe they were related by blood. Their facial features, their presence—everything felt completely different.
How could two people from the same family look this unrelated?
...Though, in a way, it was probably a blessing that they didn’t resemble each other.
"I told you not to leave your room!" Count Amorin’s voice roared through the space. "Why did you go outside?!"
"I–I’m sorry..." Viola shrank back, her voice barely audible.
His glare only sharpened.
"Just like your mother," he snapped, "are you trying to disrespect me as well?!"
"N-no, that’s not—"
"Silence!" he cut her off harshly. "When did I give you permission to speak?"
I stood there, completely frozen.
...This definitely wasn’t something I was meant to witness.
Yet Count Amorin showed no sign of stopping. If anything, his anger only seemed to grow more volatile with every breath.
"I’ve sacrificed everything for this family!" he shouted. "For you! And this is how you repay me?!"
His words echoed heavily in the air.
Then, as if the last thread of restraint finally snapped, Count Amorin lifted his fist high.
For a split second, time seemed to slow.
And I realized—
This wasn’t just anger.
It was about to become violence.
"And who might you be?"
Count Amorin’s voice was low and sharp, his fierce glare locking onto me as if he were sizing up prey. The deep lines on his face twisted into a menacing scowl.
...Good grief. He really is terrifying.
Even as I found myself absurdly marveling at just how intimidating his expression was, my body moved on its own. I stepped forward and pulled Viola behind me, placing myself squarely between them.
"Perhaps you should calm down," I said evenly.
"What?" His brow twitched.
"You seem... rather agitated."
His eyes flared. "Mind your own business, boy. This is a family matter."
I can’t do that.
Because she’s the owner of this dream.
Somehow—through reasons I didn’t yet understand—my dream and hers had become entangled. If something were to happen to her here, I had no idea what the consequences might be.
And honestly... even setting all of that aside—
I’m not so pathetic that I’d stand by and watch my fiancée be harmed.
I still have a conscience. At the very least, that much.
"I’m afraid I can’t," I replied.
Count Amorin’s lips curled into a sneer. "What an impudent brat. You don’t know your place."
His killing intent pressed down on the air like a physical weight.
"Then," he continued coldly, "I’ll make you pay the price."
The atmosphere around us seemed to tighten, the warmth of the dream sun fading as something far more dangerous crept in.
I tightened my stance, shielding Viola without looking back.
Whatever this dream was becoming—
I wasn’t backing down.
Count Amorin raised his tightly clenched fist high when he realized I had no intention of backing down.
This is a dream, I told myself.
I can block it easily.
But—
Why... why does this feel like real killing intent?
A dense, murderous aura pressed down on me, constricting my entire body.
Cold sweat broke out along my spine as I realized what it was. This wasn’t something anyone could emit—only the truly strong possessed an aura this thick.
And it was pouring out of Count Amorin.
The sensation was unmistakable.
Like a helpless herbivore standing before a predator.
My heart began to pound, each beat heavy and frantic, driven by an instinctive fear I couldn’t suppress.
"Get out of my sight this instant!!"
His roar shook the air.
The next moment, his fist came flying toward me—
a single punch packed with overwhelming force.
I knew immediately.
I can’t dodge this.
I squeezed my eyes shut and, in desperation, scattered my energy in every direction. Without the Dream Orb, I was completely defenseless inside this dream. There was nothing else I could do.
The impact should have come any second.
Yet—
"Huh...?"
Nothing happened.
No pain. No crushing force.
Confused, I cautiously opened my eyes.
The first thing I saw was a massive fist filling my entire field of vision.
Count Amorin’s knuckles hovered just inches from my face.
I stared blankly at it, my mind failing to catch up with what I was seeing.
...What?
Why... did it stop?
As the initial shock faded, understanding slowly set in.
Magnetic force.
His fist wasn’t frozen by hesitation or mercy—it was being held back by my ability.
But that only made things worse.
This is supposed to be a dream.
So how—
How am I using my ability right now?
The realization sent a chill deeper than fear through my body.
If my power could manifest here...
Then this dream wasn’t just a dream anymore.
And Count Amorin’s killing intent—
Was very, very real.
"What trick did you use...?!"
Even as he poured every ounce of strength into his strike, his fist refused to move forward. Frustration and confusion twisted his expression, and the killing intent radiating from him only grew heavier.
But unlike before—when that pressure had nearly crushed me—I remained calm.
Unbothered.
Instead, my attention drifted elsewhere.
Why can I use my real abilities here?
I clenched my hand, then loosened it, watching the motion as if it held the answer. A few seconds passed before realization finally clicked into place.
...Ah. I get it now.
This place wasn’t just Viola’s dream.
It was mine as well.
That explained everything.
Normally, when I entered someone else’s dream, I was nothing more than an intruder. A foreign presence. I couldn’t use my abilities freely—sometimes not at all.
But this time was different.
I wasn’t just a guest here.
I was an owner.
This dream belonged to both of us.
And in a dream that was mine... I wasn’t bound by reality.
I could shape things however I imagined.
In my dream, I was invincible.
A god.
Confidence surged through me. I extended my hand fully, focusing my will.
The invisible magnetic force intensified.
Count Amorin’s body lurched as the pressure wrapped around him, far stronger than before—an overwhelming force that left him utterly at my mercy.
And for the first time, I saw something new in his eyes.
Not rage.
Not hatred.
But fear.