Elias quickly calmed down.
Although he couldn't move, his mind was exceptionally clear.
The reason he was confused about his current situation was primarily because he had experienced the dream demon curse too many times.
Every time he was struck by it, that slimy sensory experience was vivid in his mind.
It was like plunging headfirst into aloe vera juice that had been fermenting for half a month...
Wait.
Why did he think of aloe vera juice?
Elias frantically mocked himself in his mind.
Perhaps that slippery, disgusting sensation really was exactly like aloe vera juice.
But this time, the situation was clearly different.
There was none of that slimy, nauseating feeling.
Aside from completely losing control over this black-armored body, his other conditions were ridiculously good.
His head didn't ache, he wasn't out of breath, and he couldn't even smell the smog of Hope County.
It was as if his feet had suddenly left the ground and his spirituality was under no pressure.
The curse couldn't reach him, and his clever intellect had finally reclaimed the high ground!
However, this feeling alone couldn't completely clear the connection to the dream demon curse.
After all, that eerie thing had a prior record of altering his perception of time.
Of course, there was another possibility—this was just a simple dream.
Ever since he had transmigrated into this godforsaken world, his dreams had never been normal.
Or... there was one more desperate possibility.
That was that the curse had taken effect directly within the dream.
If that were truly the case, he wouldn't even have the chance to pull out The Roaring Cane and give himself a forced reboot!
Before he could straighten out these messy thoughts, a change occurred in his field of vision.
The fellow wearing the heavy medieval armor turned his head again.
Only then did Elias see clearly that a vivacious young girl was sitting beside "him."
She wasn't wearing typical medieval women's clothing.
That is, the typical complicated, bloated, waist-constricting long dresses that could choke a person to death.
Instead, it was a cleanly tailored, form-fitting outfit that looked more like a women's size slim leather armor.
It exuded a valiant and heroic air.
“You know, the priests of the Woodland say that everyone's soul's base color is predetermined.”
The girl tilted her head slightly and looked at him tenderly.
Her hair, as smooth as a waterfall, danced wildly in the night wind under the soft glimmer emitted by the luminous bodies on the ruined walls.
“Then perhaps my base color is black.”
“He” spoke, his voice low.
“See, just like my family's armor.”
“Very black-hearted!”
Elias rolled his eyes frantically in his mind, wishing he could bash this version of "himself" on the head right then and there.
No, big brother, you're totally ruining the atmosphere, aren't you?!
Facing such a great beauty, can't you speak properly!
What do you mean, black-hearted?
A pun, really?
Did you leave your brain in the sewer?
Wait...
Bickering aside, Elias suddenly realized an eerie problem.
The language the two were using for their conversation carried ancient and obscure syllables.
Logically, this should have been very foreign to Elias, a modern man.
But he somehow understood it.
Not only did he understand it, but even the trilled consonants and complex subordinate clauses felt as natural as a mother tongue.
“No.”
“I think your base color is red.”
The girl wasn't put off by the bad joke; instead, she let out a soft laugh.
This smile was as bright as a beam of sunlight in a snowy field.
Elias, watching from the side, couldn't help but be stunned.
Wait, what is this, "The Youthful Armored Knight Won't Meet a Peerless Medieval Girl"?
“How so?”
The knight spoke again, his voice carrying a hint of curiosity he couldn't hide.
The girl didn't answer immediately but reached out her hand.
Her slightly cool, delicate hand gently touched the knight's rough back of the hand.
This sensation instantly crossed the boundary between the illusory and the real, being transmitted to Elias without reservation!
The slight coolness of the fingertips, the softness of the palm, even the fine texture of the skin.
This unparalleled realistic feedback made Elias's spirit feel a sudden jolt.
Along with it, a shiver rose from the depths of his heart.
The realism of this dream was simply off the charts!
“You are a knight who, even if the world were shrouded in darkness, would not hesitate to make yourself the fuel to ignite the light.”
The girl's voice was soft, yet it carried an air of unquestionable firmness.
“So, you are red!”
The knight smiled.
He didn't argue, but followed the girl's words with a question: “Then what about you?”
“Me? I am white!”
The girl tilted her chin up slightly, her eyes sparkling with the light of hope.
“White?”
“White is the color of daylight!”
“ELIAS!!!”
Just as the atmosphere was about to reach its peak!
An abrupt, shrill, ghostly shriek exploded directly in the depths of his mind!
Elias felt his consciousness as if it had been hit head-on by a high-speed steam train.
Then it was roughly pulled backward!
“Holy crap!”
“I haven't finished watching yet!”
Now he was completely certain.
This wasn't some godforsaken hallucination; this was a dream!
And it was a dream with its own ultra-high-definition immersive plot and maximum immersion!
Family, who understands this?
What do you call it when you're halfway through opening an ancient castle's iron gate and it gets slammed shut again?
Dammit!
It's all that damn old fogey Old Ed's fault for interrupting!
He still wanted to see the grand finale!
Whoosh—
His eyes snapped open.
A gust of wind instantly rushed down his throat, carrying industrial waste gas mixed with smog.
This was right; this was the familiar world.
Wait a minute!
He blinked hard.
This didn't seem to be the familiar ceiling either!
There was only a patch of blindingly bright daylight sky.
Where the hell did this take me?!
Elias looked at the bright sky overhead, his brain still stalled.
Immediately after, a sharp, heart-piercing pain that felt as if he were being snapped in half came from his back.
That was the solid wood window frame issuing a solemn protest against his lower back.
“If you're feeling suicidal, don't take me with you!”
Old Ed's exasperated voice exploded in his mind again, making his eardrums ache.
“How can you be sleepwalking too?!”
Sleepwalking?
Elias looked down.
His body was currently in a high-difficulty acrobatic posture, with half of him on the windowsill and the other half leaning directly out of the second-floor window!
His head was completely suspended in mid-air.
That's right, it was the very window he had planned to use to let Old Ed learn to fly.
If he sneezed even slightly, he would directly experience a Leap of Faith.
The problem was that there was no haystack underneath.
Only a few early-rising middle-aged women emptying night soil in the narrow alley below and workers rushing to the factories had stopped in their tracks, craning their necks and pointing at his avant-garde art!
Someone was even whistling!
“Holy crap!”
Using both hands and feet, he gripped the edge of the windowsill tightly, his nails almost digging into the wood.
He hurriedly scrambled back into his bedroom.
“What is going on with me?!”
He growled through gritted teeth in his mind.
“You just got promoted, so your spirituality is a bit overfilled!”
The old man mocked him irritably.
“Didn't I use it yesterday?!”
Elias breathed heavily, taking in the air inside the room as he argued.
“Can that be the same?”
Old Ed sneered.
“With that spirituality of yours, are you even a normal person?”
“I...”
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