Chapter Seventy-Seven: The First Apostle

Most of the time, when people dream, they are unaware that they are dreaming. Even if everything in the dream is absurd, the mind automatically fills in plausible details, sometimes even weaving in blurred memories of another life.

So at this moment, Tyler felt only an intense terror. He had no idea where he was, nor did he understand what the presence before him truly was.

“Who are you? Where am I?”

The giant who appeared in Tyler’s dream was, of course, Mulan. After realizing he had actually managed to materialize in Tyler’s dream, Mulan was filled with a sense of novelty.

Mulan didn’t answer Tyler right away. He gazed at the surrounding mist, then at the sky shrouded in dark clouds. In the distance, there seemed to be a sensation of splitting and gloom, and the ground trembled intermittently.

In this pure dream, every element was a manifestation of Tyler’s own mental state.

Tyler looked at the giant, whose form was a swirl of darkness and light. It seemed to be observing its surroundings, but soon lowered its head. Only then did Tyler clearly see the giant’s eyes: profound as turbulent darkness, with red mist and lightning brewing in their depths.

“Mr. Tyler, first I must tell you: you have not been kidnapped, nor are you in danger. The crises of the outside world are unrelated to this place. This is a dream—your dream, and mine.”

A dream?

Tyler was stunned. Once his situation was revealed, fragments of memory and thought began to connect with reality, and he started to sense a faint unreality in his surroundings.

“Who are you? Why are our dreams connected?”

The towering giant was silent for a moment before speaking, slow and deep.

“I am one of the few truly awake beings in this world. I see through the tragic reality, perceive the terrible powers stirring in the chaos. I am not your enemy and will not harm you. You may call me the First Apostle.”

In the dream, Tyler’s leg was uninjured. Facing the immense First Apostle, he didn’t flee, but stood before him, looking up.

“Why have you come to find me?”

The giant did not answer directly, but once again looked up at the sky.

“Recall, imagine, Mr. Tyler—the sacred baptism, the terrible baptism... We were there, and we remain there still...”

Mulan’s words carried a powerful suggestion, and Tyler’s mind was irresistibly drawn along. He forgot he was dreaming and, under Mulan’s influence, the dream began to change rapidly.

The mist around them dispersed, revealing rocks and tufts of grass...

The two stood atop a colossal mountain, high enough to overlook the surrounding peaks and distant plains.

Sacred music appeared, and a vast, clear pool shimmered nearby. As the mist faded, the scenery grew richer, some parts sharp, others blurred—mirroring Tyler’s memories and his focus at the time.

Tyler vanished from Mulan’s side as a procession slowly ascended from below, accompanied by hymns and sacred songs.

The giant stood on the summit, an uninvolved observer, silently watching the baptism unfold. When he saw Irwin again, light and shadow shuddered across his form.

Sacred relics were placed on the altar; five people prepared for baptism. Apart from the two archbishops at the edge, the others lingered halfway up the mountain.

Light from the sacred mountain shot toward the heavens. Everyone who saw this on the mountain bowed to the radiance, and on the plains below—in towns and villages—countless believers chanted the sanctuary’s scriptures, praying fervently.

Within that light, Mulan sensed Irwin’s spirit as uniquely distinct. This was not Mulan’s perception, but Tyler’s; he watched Irwin stand at the center of the light, his spirit almost taking human form, expanding from his body, rising with the beam.

“Ah—”

Irwin, at the core of the baptism, began to scream, shocking the other four being baptized. Seeing Irwin in extreme agony, before they could react, he started howling insanely at the sky.

“Who are you? Who are you really? You cannot be the true god—not possible—”

“Demon... evil god... ah—”

The hysterical cries were filled with terror and disbelief. Irwin’s spirit twisted with the screams, and Tyler seemed to glimpse a shattered shadow on Irwin.

“Priest Irwin? What’s wrong?” “Priest Irwin!”

“Don’t approach him—”

“Ah—”

Irwin’s muscles writhed as if countless worms burrowed within. Flesh buds burst forth, and amid the dreadful screams, his body began to mutate violently...

A terrible, uncanny aura swelled rapidly, but its source was not the mutating Irwin, but the sacred beam itself, which was corroding the devout priest...

“My hands? My eyes? No, I—must leave here... roar—”

The two archbishops, realizing the baptism had gone awry, saw Irwin suddenly transform and rushed forward.

“Boom...”

The sacred pool erupted, and a creature covered in writhing flesh burst forth, its eyes crimson, fleeing down the mountain, driven by instinct to escape the baptismal pool.

“Stop him!”

Without mercy, the two archbishops unleashed three beams of holy light from their joined hands, striking the creature and causing its flesh to melt rapidly.

“Stop—I'm Irwin! Above the holy light is an evil god—we've all been deceived...”

The creature let out a sorrowful roar. Only one archbishop hesitated for a moment, but soon joined the others, intensifying the attack as the holy light in their hands grew fiercer.

“Those who blaspheme will suffer divine punishment!”

With the archbishop’s stern declaration, Irwin’s flesh melted, staining the sacred pool red.

“Ah—” “No—”

The screams echoed beside Tyler, who was horrified to discover two other priests also crying out in pain, showing signs of mutation. This was not caused by the creature’s blood; the half of the pool they occupied remained pure and holy.

A dreadful feeling surged within Tyler. He looked at the archbishops and the struggling creature, then suddenly leapt from the pool, fleeing toward the mountain slope.

The mutation among the others and Tyler’s escape distracted the archbishops. Taking advantage, Irwin’s flesh swelled again—his mind now nearly gone, focused only on escaping.

“Lies, all lies—you’re liars too—”

Dense mist began to cover the sacred mountain. Irwin spewed dark red fluid, and with a struggle strength beyond the archbishops’ imagination, broke free of the holy light’s bonds.

Tyler could no longer see what was happening atop the mountain. He only knew he had to escape, as far as possible. Dashing to the cliff’s edge, he leapt off, letting his body fall freely, then spread his arms after a time.

“Whoosh~”

A gust lifted him upward, as if invisible wings carried him gliding away from the mountain. The tremors receded into the distance, and he didn’t dare look back. Meanwhile, his leg throbbed with pain, deepening his terror—was he mutating as well?

Mulan followed Tyler’s vision; he too could no longer see the summit, but it was enough.

On the plains below, the giant of light and shadow reached out, catching the falling Tyler. The scene blurred, and Tyler, wracked with pain, curled up in the giant’s palm, agony as real as in waking life.

“Mr. Tyler, you must wake. Danger approaches. Through your dream, I sense the aura of holy light outside. Be careful not to reveal yourself—protect yourself!”

The giant’s form faded. Though Tyler had found it fearsome before, now he felt reluctant to let it go.

“No, don’t leave. Can you protect me? Will I see you again? Don’t go...”

“If you survive, we will meet again. I wish you luck!”

The giant’s voice lingered as Tyler’s dream shattered.

“Hah!”

His body trembled slightly—Tyler awoke. He was still lying on the cart. Dusk had fallen, the mountain dim and shadowed, and the villagers had set up a simple camp.

His pupils dilated as he saw a sanctuary priest in the camp, chatting amiably with several villagers, who naturally showed him great respect.

Tyler’s pupils contracted. He curled up on the cart, covered himself with burlap, feigning sleep.

“Reverend, there’s another unfortunate man over there—his foot is nearly necrotic. Could you take a look?”

“Certainly, I’ll check on him. Where is he?”

“Over there, he should be asleep.”

As fate would have it, Tyler’s hand clenched tightly beneath the burlap, his heart pounding, sweat beading on his forehead and back.

An ordinary priest should not be a villain, nor likely recognize Tyler at a glance. Now, his face was gaunt and haggard, but if the priest sensed the holy power within him, it would be dangerous.

Soon, the sanctuary priest approached the cart and gently lifted the burlap. He first touched Tyler’s forehead, then examined the right leg, whose pant leg Tyler had torn open himself.

“There’s a bit of fever, and the leg wound is very serious.”

The priest lightly touched the healthy skin around the ulcer.

“Ow...”

Tyler feigned a groan and opened his eyes, revealing genuine fear and unease as he faced the priest.

“Reverend! No, no, your holy hands shouldn’t touch someone as filthy as me—my leg is rotting!”

Tyler struggled to move toward the center of the cart, avoiding the priest’s touch.

The priest quickly reassured him.

“If you are a believer in the holy light, then there is no such thing as a filthy body. Don’t be agitated. I’ve examined your injury—feeling in your leg is good, but you must find a doctor soon. I’ll first help ease your pain.”

The priest reached out, passing his hand over Tyler’s right leg. Points of holy light appeared on his palm. Tyler suppressed his own holy power, forcing himself to look relaxed.

“Ah, I feel much better. Thank you, reverend, thank you. God will bless you; God will bless you...”

“You’re welcome. May God look upon you and see your suffering.”

Tyler’s body stiffened for a moment, then forced a smile. The so-called “God”—please, please do not look upon me!

Watching the kind priest turn back to his seat, Tyler’s expression was deeply conflicted.

Young priest, do not pray any longer; do not devote yourself so fervently...