Inside the resting chamber of the Dream Labyrinth Tower, Vice Admiral Iceberg Edwina paused her intense discussion with Ebner, sighing with regret.
"Your Reverse Dream Summoning Ritual has reached its limit. I'll need a few hours to recover before I can return."
With that, the pirate admiral's skirt gently swayed as she took a step back. Her figure quickly faded, dissolving into fragments of light that disappeared from the library-like resting room.
"About one hour," Ebner mused as he glanced at his pocket watch, sipping a cup of premium coffee he had exchanged for using his points.
"While the ritual itself provides some energy, it still requires significant consumption of one's spirituality. Even someone at Sequence 5 like Edwina can only remain for about an hour. For ordinary people, the time would likely be one to two minutes, with side effects like headaches upon their return.
"Moreover, the current ritual is overly complex. The invocation addressing Dr. Strange may risk exposing certain details and could deter most Beyonders from attempting it.
"Worse, if an ordinary person correctly conducts the ritual, solves their issue here, and grows greedy, they might attempt similar methods elsewhere. In the mystical world, that's essentially a death sentence.
"So, I need to design a simple, safe method that isn't commonly used by other hidden existences to select those willing to cooperate with my NPC roleplay."
Ebner pondered for a while, finishing his large cup of coffee before a flash of inspiration struck him. He thought of the items associated with Sefirah Castle, such as Justice's mirror, The Hanged Man's compass, The Sun's crystal ball, The Hermit's astrolabe, and even the doll he had inadvertently analyzed.
"These items essentially function as 'simplified rituals' linked to Sefirah Castle. This concept can serve as inspiration. After all, I've already analyzed similar 'linkage' rituals before."
His thoughts raced as he began formulating a plan:
"I could create items that connect to the resting chamber in the Dream Labyrinth Tower and distribute them. When someone picks one up and falls asleep at night, it would silently establish a link.
"This link could function like the crimson stars in Sefirah Castle
"Before pulling in the selected spirits, I could even design a secondary ritual invoking the God of Knowledge and Wisdom to filter them one final time. This would act as a safeguard against certain big shots sneaking in with alternate personas...like Amon. Or Amon. And Amon.
"The only question is whether the God of Knowledge and Wisdom would be willing to assist in such a trivial matter."
With these thoughts, Ebner felt inspired to design items linked to the Dream Labyrinth Tower. He envisioned commissioning such items within a dream labyrinth scenario, adding them to the reward list, and exchanging them with points for distribution.
While high-level items like the Ninth Law talisman or extraordinary weapons could only exist in reality for a few minutes, ordinary objects could last several days with enough points.
"However, I don't plan to release them in the real world directly anymore."
Concluding his plan with a wry smile, Ebner sighed at the realization of the enormous point cost his scheme would require. He muttered, "Looks like I'll need to grind more points."
With a resigned chuckle, he entered the rewards hub and stepped into another dream scenario, using the time before Edwina's recovery to continue his efforts.
10 PM, Bravehearts Bar's Back Alley.
Dressed in a black double-breasted long coat and matching half-top hat, Klein strolled through the dark alley, heading toward the main street.
As he reached the alley's exit, a carriage pulled up, just as it had before. Behind the glass window sat Maric, his brown eyes barely restraining their malevolence.
Klein tipped his hat, gripping his sturdy cane as he calmly boarded the carriage, as if it were one he had hailed himself.
"That outfit isn't suitable for combat," Maric commented, his sharp eyes scanning Klein's attire, his furrowed brow pinching tighter.
It was evident Maric still harbored some doubts about Klein's capabilities, though he trusted Sharon's judgment and the prophecy.
Klein responded with a casual smile, sidestepping the remark. Instead, he asked, "Weren't you saying another companion would join us?"
He wasn't referring to Sharon, as he had already confirmed her presence in the carriage earlier using the All-Black Eye.
Unsurprisingly, as he finished speaking, a figure materialized beside the other carriage window.
It was a woman in a black court dress with a small, elegant hat: the Sequence 5 Wraith, Sharon.
"She will intercept Steve and Tyre midway," Sharon's ethereal voice floated as her blue eyes locked onto Klein. "She won't be part of our fight."
...And if she fails to stop them? Should I prepare to flee? Klein wondered, tossing a coin for divination. The result remained unchanged from his earlier readings, easing his tension slightly.
He then asked, "Where is our ambush point?"
Sharon replied succinctly, "We're on the way there."
She refrained from revealing the location outright.
Very cautious, very thorough... Klein mentally noted. He changed the subject to inquire about the vulnerabilities of werewolves, undead, and wraiths to purification, exorcism, and black flames, receiving responses that they could inflict harm but were rarely fatal.
Ten minutes later, Maric ordered the zombie driver to halt the carriage.
Klein peered through the window and spotted a decrepit area layered with shadows, accompanied by the faint sound of running water—this was the abandoned Western Byram Shipyard.
After discerning the area's proximity to a Steam Church outpost less than 2 kilometers away, Klein quickly formed a contingency plan.
Once out of the carriage, Maric pointed Klein toward the location of the explosives he had requested earlier. Following that, Maric and Sharon departed to lure their enemies into the trap.
Watching them leave, Klein began his final preparations. The prospect of facing such formidable foes filled him with unease and trepidation, but retreat was no longer an option. He reassured himself, calling it the Magician's pre-show jitters.
In a derelict house on the outskirts of the factory district, Jane received a message from Sharon and steeled herself.
Jane had been preparing for this day ever since losing her parents. Despite the searing hatred in her heart, the perilous months spent under the command of Admiral of Stars
Her spirits, scattered across the area, served as her watchful eyes.
Suddenly, she spotted Sharon's fleeting figure under a dim streetlamp. In an instant, all reflective surfaces on the street were obliterated.
Moments later, three figures—both familiar and deeply loathed—appeared, pursuing at an incredible pace.
They were Steve the Wraith, Jason the Zombie, and Tyre the Werewolf, the very ones who had ruined Jane's family.
Jane bit her lip in fury but hesitated only briefly. She unveiled the black cloth covering a mirror before her, activating a pre-planned trap.
In an instant, Steve and Tyre vanished silently, leaving only Jason sprinting ahead, oblivious to his companions' fates.
Noticing their absence after two blocks, Jason halted, realizing something was amiss. However, just as he was about to investigate, he spotted reinforcements: Wraith Linstor and Werewolf Stay, pursuing Maric and Sharon from another direction.
Confidently, Jason joined them, heading toward a desolate dockyard.
In a monochromatic realm of gray and white, Steve, the Wraith, furrowed his emotionless green eyes before transforming into an ethereal state.
Meanwhile, Tyre, now aware he was caught in a trap, unleashed a howl:
"Show yourselves, cowards! Dragging me here only to cower in hiding?"
His taunts bore fruit as a tall man in an ornate brown jacket and silver mask appeared on a nearby rooftop, silently raising his left hand.
A massive, intricate bronze door materialized before him, exuding deathly silence as it creaked open.
"Gatekeeper? No... It's Admiral of Hell Ludwell! How is he still alive?" Tyre stammered in shock, recognizing the infamous figure.
As spectral hands emerged to drag Tyre into the door, a flash of crimson cloaked in black appeared in Ludwell's gaze—Steve's Wraith Possession.
Taking advantage of the momentary distraction, Tyre prepared to strike back, only to find himself ensnared by ghostly arms rising from the ground.
A new figure appeared on the opposite roof: a young woman with golden hair who pulled back her hood, smirking.
"It's you?!" Tyre exclaimed, eyes wide in disbelief.