Illusory Dream!
Born from the pathways of the Audience and the Night, the essence of dream abilities had now taken the shape of the Dream Fantasy Book.
Tiny, dreamy phosphorescent lights scattered amidst the sky filled with lightning and fire, gradually seeping into Bardhair's body.
Silently and imperceptibly, many things had already changed.
"Slash!" The sword light, dyed in the hues of dusk, struck the three angelic historical projections.
This caused the mythical bodies of the angels to age rapidly. Wrinkles covered their skin, age spots emerged, and decayed liquid oozed out.
Pop!
The historical projections melted away, evaporating completely.
The three great historical projections had dissipated just like that?
"You will die too!" the giant roared, flashing before Truman, but the twilight could do nothing against the scattered flow of information. Truman quickly reconstituted his body, the corners of his mouth curling into an inexplicable smile as he reached out and pulled.
A figure draped in a dark robe, holding a massive black scythe, with the form of a half-man, half-demonic wolf, appeared beside Truman.
With just one glance, the orange-red light of dusk seemed to transform into mere sketch lines before being erased like pencil strokes.
Secrecy!
"Amanisis!" Bardhair roared, his previously unstoppable momentum suddenly faltering.
Just as the Giant King Olmir was constantly fixated on devouring the Demon Wolf, Bardhair harbored the same desire—to consume the offspring of those demon wolves, especially the Goddess of Misfortune, Amanisis!
But Amanisis was too powerful. During one of their past battles, he had nearly been toyed with as prey!
"Bardhair's most unbeatable enemy is actually the Goddess?" Even Truman, deep within his illusionary dream, was momentarily stunned before chuckling. "That makes perfect sense."
The Giant King and the Destruction Demon Wolf had ceaselessly sought to devour each other throughout the ages, engaging in countless battles. Naturally, the Goddess had clashed with Bardhair as well.
And the result was predictable.
From the moment the dreamy phosphorescence seeped into Bardhair's body, the outcome of this battle was already decided.
Everything that followed was merely Truman weaving his dream. Letting Bardhair cut down the three great historical projections in one strike inflated the giant's confidence to an unimaginable level, setting the stage to evoke his most formidable fear.
These extreme emotional fluctuations widened Bardhair's mental defenses, allowing the phosphorescence to successfully infiltrate his island of consciousness.
What was surprising, however, was that the conjured dream projection turned out to be the Goddess. Truman had expected to pull out some ancient deity instead.
The illusory shadow of the Goddess raised her gaze to Bardhair and initiated an attack. Two of her hands came together gently, and at that moment, Bardhair's entire form was swiftly erased as if by an unseen hand.
Simultaneously, a misty sphere rose in the Goddess's hands, within which the giant's furious roars resounded, the orange-red light boiling within it!
"You are too weak." Under Truman's control, the Goddess's projection spoke. The intense confrontation seemed to pause momentarily before resuming with even greater intensity!
"As long as your father exists, you will never defeat me." The Goddess's voice remained cold and indifferent. The massive black scythe in her hands dissolved into a black mist and burrowed into the hazy sphere.
The mist ballooned, then contracted, tainted with the aura of death.
"Roar!" The giant's howls erupted from within the mist, but… was there a hint of grievance in his voice?
Truman, seeing that everything was in place and emotions had been sufficiently stirred, implanted a psychological suggestion into Bardhair's mind—a simple location.
He wouldn't be aware of the suggestion's presence, but when encountering related matters, an overwhelming curiosity would naturally arise.
Furthermore, the dreamy phosphorescence was something only Truman could trace or manipulate.
"It's almost time." Truman silently ended the Illusory Dream, returning everything to its original state.
Roar!
Bardhair let out an enraged howl and chose to flee. The twilight glow enveloped his body, causing it to rot and dissolve into a pool of pus.
But his true form was reborn in the spirit world!
"Trying to escape?" Truman raised his head. With the spatial mastery of the Wanderer, he completely sealed off Bardhair's escape routes. Doors—both visible and invisible—encased the giant in the very center.
At this moment, the towering giant looked like an insect trapped in amber.
"You…" Bardhair's single eye was bloodshot, his sanity teetering on the edge of collapse.
Whoosh!
At that very moment, countless flowers, trees, and plants blossomed within the spirit world, piercing through the spatial barriers!
Clusters of wheat, delicate flowers, all bloomed in the strange and chaotic spirit world, intertwining to form an enormous coffin that encapsulated Bardhair.
Truman remained expressionless, flicking his fingers. The space shattered, slicing the plant-formed coffin into countless fragments. But at that moment, a towering, full-bodied figure clad in wooden armor and a battle skirt, wielding a wooden staff, appeared in reality.
The giantess wore a leather breastplate over a long skirt, her deep brown hair adorned with golden wheat stalks and vibrant mushrooms.
She raised her wooden staff, pointing it remotely at Truman.
In that instant, Truman felt as though his very life force was draining away, on the verge of death.
But his response was swift—he transformed into a chaotic stream of information, breaking free from the constraints of vitality.
Countless plants surged through the void, their vine-like tendrils attempting to impale Truman.
Yet, as a flood of information, he was completely unaffected.
"Sigh…"
A sudden sigh reached Truman's ears. The sage's prophetic intuition told him—it was time to stop!
He followed his instincts, immediately releasing his hold, allowing the full-figured being to take the coffin containing Bardhair and vanish into the spirit world.
"Twilight…" Truman shook his head. If he had persisted just now, he would have drawn the attention of the Giant King, Olmir.
The ancient gods were currently locked in their own standoffs. The first to make a move might suffer a disadvantage, but if the long-battling Goddess of Harvest and the nearly maddened God of Dawn clashed further, it would undoubtedly attract the Giant King's gaze.
"Perfect!" Truman chuckled softly as he watched the two gods disappear completely from the spirit world.
"Now, all that's left is to wait for the right moment." Truman flipped open the Dream Fantasy Book, writing down numerous 'reasonable' developments.
"I'm really becoming more and more like a writer…" Truman sighed, then noticed Medici's strange gaze across from him.
"What is it?" Truman asked in confusion. Medici simply shook his head, saying nothing.
He had witnessed the entire process of Truman overwhelming Bardhair. Though the powers of the Ancient Scholar sickened him, this battle had undoubtedly demonstrated Truman's formidable combat strength.
"Having such an angelic companion… I don't know if that's good or bad…" Medici pondered the thought before shaking his head and leading his army back into battle.