The small boat drew closer and docked at the shore.
Phil Gray tried to back away and hide, but found himself unable to move. Looking around, he noticed that there were some other people there, who, judging from their clothes, were local residents. They were also staring at the small boat in terror, unable to move.
Something seemed to have come down from the small boat. It was called something because it was a skeleton with a pale white frame and eerie blue flames burning in its eye sockets. The bone swords in their hands reflected the cold moonlight, sending a chill down one's spine.
One by one, the skeletons disembarked from the small boat. Strangely, how could such a small boat possibly hold so many skeletons?
However, Phil Greedo had no time to think, as the skeletons raised their bone swords and began to slaughter those around him.
They were unable to move or resist; Phil Gray could even feel the stickiness of the blood splattered on his face.
He tried to mobilize the divine power within his body, but the divine power remained as still as stagnant water.
Phil Gray watched helplessly as the bone sword came crashing down on him, and he couldn't help but cry out, but no sound came out of his mouth.
He closed his eyes, but felt a slight warmth in his wrist and did not feel any pain that followed.
He opened his eyes and looked at his wrist. The sun mark of the Dawn Cult was glowing, and the skull in front of him had vanished like ashes.
What happened?
He sat up abruptly, exhaled deeply, and looked around. By the moonlight shining through the glass, he realized he was still sitting on the bed.
After calming down a bit, I realized it was just a dream.
Phil Gray exhaled and looked out the window. The harbor was calm, and the moon was reflected on the Lunsey River, quiet and peaceful.
But the dream was too real; the panic and oppression made him wide awake.
He touched his wrist again and found that the sun mark was indeed getting hot.
This is definitely not a simple dream.
Is it the Church of Dreams or the Church of the Dead?
Phil Gray couldn't sleep, so he went downstairs to clear his head.
Stepping out of the hotel, there was no one around. The entire port of Lunsi seemed to be asleep, and even the surrounding shops had turned off their lights. This didn't seem to fit the style of the Dark Parish. Shouldn't they be more lively at night?
He strolled to the riverbank, looked at the calm water, and felt much better.
Wait, what's that?
He saw a figure on the riverbank ahead, dragging something in a hurry.
He quietly walked up and finally saw clearly that the man was carrying a woman on his back and dragging another child by his hand.
I couldn't see their faces clearly, so I didn't know if they were dead or alive.
The man blew a whistle, and a moment later, a small boat came toward him, and he was about to throw the two women onto it.
Just then, he glanced around warily, and his eyes met Phil Gray's.
Although his face was covered with a black cloth, Phil Gray could imagine his surprised and fierce expression.
Oh no, he'd been discovered! He felt embarrassed and wanted to run away.
The man casually tossed aside his burdens, and his right hand transformed into a sharp claw as he attacked Phil Gray.
Phil Gray swiftly threw the Fate Blade. The man was quite agile; the blade only grazed his cheek, tearing the black cloth but not revealing his face.
"Help!!!" Phil Gray shouted, his voice so powerful it seemed to awaken the slumbering port of Lensey, while dodging the man's claws.
Since he wants to deal with these two women secretly, he must be afraid of being seen by others, so calling someone himself is definitely the right thing to do.
The man's eyes indeed became even fiercer, and his attacks became even more ruthless.
Fortunately, the unlucky buff that came with the Fate Blade took effect; his foot paused, and he actually tripped over his right foot with his left.
In that instant, Phil Gray donned white gloves, and the flames of the Sunblade illuminated the darkness.
"Guards! Seize him!" The sword in his hand was brandished incessantly, and the shouts never stopped.
"Damn it!" The man attacked through gritted teeth, his hands turning into green monster claws, dripping with viscous liquid, and his movements became even faster.
However, faced with the god-level swordsmanship, he was quickly defeated and struggled to hold on.
Phil Gray was still frowning. How could it be that there were thousands of residents living around the port of Rensey, and no one had appeared even after he had been shouting for so long?
But he immediately saw the lights come on in a house on the street.
"No!" Realizing he was no match for him and fearing being seen by more people, the man suddenly flashed pink smoke in his hand, forming a smoke wall between himself and Phil Gray, before jumping onto the small boat and running away.
Was it poison? Phil Gray held his breath as he watched the pink smoke spread.
The man rowed the boat and sailed into the distance.
Unable to catch up, Phil Gray was somewhat frustrated, continuously conjuring up Destiny Blades in his hand and hurling them toward the increasingly distant ship.
The boat rocked slightly, but it still sailed away and disappeared from his sight.
Phil Gray wondered as he walked on, wondering if the strange dream he had just had was related to the person who attacked him. It was so quiet along the way, as if everyone except him and the masked man was fast asleep.
Once he arrived at the hotel, he walked to Patrick's door and knocked.
There was no movement.
He knocked again, frowning slightly. However, it seemed inappropriate to wake his cousin so late at night. With that thought, he turned to leave.
The door suddenly opened, and he saw Patrick breathing heavily.
"Cousin, what happened?"
"Did you sleep well?" Phil Gray felt like he was being crazy for waking someone up to ask if he slept well, and coughed awkwardly.
"Oh no, cousin, I dreamt that I was being killed by a bunch of skeletons over and over again. My neck is killing me. Can you check if there are any marks left? No, it's all a dream." Patrick touched his neck in confusion, and when he found that his neck was still intact, he breathed a sigh of relief.
"Oh? You dreamed of skeletons too? Were they skeletons that came off a ship from the port of Lunsi?" Phil Gray asked in a deep voice.
"Yes."
The two described their dreams in detail and found that the scenes in their dreams were exactly the same, except that Phil Gray woke up from the dream because of the sun mark and did not feel the feeling of being killed by the skeleton in the dream.
"Was it done by the Cult of Dreams?" Phil Gray asked gravely.
“But the undead skeletons remind me of the chosen ones of the god of death.” Patrick touched his neck, somewhat puzzled.
After a moment of silent staring at each other, they woke up the others.
Eli and Ernest both looked exhausted.
“Hmm, it feels like I’ve been in a fight after just one sleep.” Eli rubbed his arm. “But the mastermind behind creating the same dream and pulling so many of God’s chosen ones into it is probably no ordinary person.”
Ernest broke out in a cold sweat. "It was definitely the work of the Dream Cult."
“We’re not the only ones trapped in a dream; I feel like many people here have fallen into a deep sleep,” Phil Gray told them, then recounted what had happened after he went outside.
“What if everyone in this port falls into a deep sleep and never wakes up? Should we wake them up one by one?” Patrick asked.
“Wait a little longer. It’s impossible that we’re the only ones awake. The person who escaped is awake too, isn’t he? And if the worst-case scenario is that he died in his sleep, even if we wake them up one by one, it will be too late.” Phil Gray looked out the window.
He shouted so loudly at the harbor that only one room lit up with its lights.
The room fell silent for a moment, and a sense of worry settled in everyone's hearts.
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