Turning back, he saw that Patrick also looked somewhat dazed, so he quickly grabbed his arm and shouted, "Hey, don't be hallucinating!"
He swayed slightly. "Ah, cousin, I think I just saw Miss Edith. She looks just like Miss Edith. Shouldn't we have treated her better?" Patrick seemed a little reluctant.
"Concentrate your divine power in your eyes."
"Oh." Although he didn't know what his cousin meant, he did as he was told, only to see the woman in front of him instantly change her expression. "Ah, how could this be?"
"That's all the Dream Cult can do," Ernest scoffed.
Morey seemed unaffected, saying, "A group illusion? Don't bother thinking about it."
"Oh, it seems these people are all heartless. Naturally, they don't understand the taste of love, so how can they understand the true meaning of books?" The woman's lips curled up slightly, and she struggled a little, but the green vines remained as sturdy as ever.
Morey frowned. "What exactly do you want to do?"
"It's nothing. I've already said it, I just can't stand them. Just kill me, and their illusion will naturally dissipate." The woman said nonchalantly, then winked at Morey.
What exactly is the Dream Cult plotting?
"No, it was all my doing. Do you think the Church would send someone as incompetent as me if they were to attack you?" The woman seemed tired of being tied up. "Hurry up and do it. I'm eager to return to the embrace of the Goddess of Dreams."
Morey snorted and withdrew his spear instead. "Although I don't know what you're up to, I will never let you have your way."
"Oh? So you're just going to watch those young and beautiful ladies favored by the gods die in the dream?" The woman revealed a provocative smile. "If they stay in the dream for three days, they'll never wake up again."
Phil Gray thought to himself that Miss Sheila had been unconscious for two days, and if this woman wasn't lying, she might not wake up anytime soon. With that thought, he looked at Morey with concern.
Morey's hand holding the spear trembled slightly. It wasn't that he was afraid to kill the woman, but if he killed her and there were others behind the scenes, then the trail would be broken.
"What's wrong? I wouldn't mind having those ladies scout ahead for me before I die. The path to the Abyss of the Dead is shrouded in darkness." The woman raised her chin, looking at Morey with a smug expression.
"The Eye of Fate—"
Phil Gray looked at the woman, wanting to see if the Eye of Fate could glean any useful information.
The river of fate began to flow slowly.
Before him appeared a younger version of the woman, dressed in very elegant clothes with a white veil on her head, seemingly a noblewoman. He saw the woman resting her head on the shoulder of a young man, looking blissful.
Looking at the young man, he looked almost exactly like Peter in the book she wrote.
Could the stories in the book have originated from her own life?
Then he saw the woman marry another person, a person whose face was somewhat blurry. This person must not have been very important to her, so she couldn't see him clearly.
Then, wearing a white wedding dress, she ran to a wooden house with tears in her eyes. She pushed open the door and saw the young man lying on the ground, his body already rotting.
Phil Gray was startled; the corpse looked so gruesome that it must have died in agony.
Then came the scene of the woman crying in despair. Phil Gray frowned, and then he saw a man in a black cloak stand behind the woman and extend his hand to her.
Unfortunately, the scene ended abruptly there, preventing him from seeing who the black-cloaked man was or what he did to the woman. However, it was certain that he was also a member of the Dream Cult.
"I haven't seen any useful information," Phil Gray sighed.
Morey and the woman were still locked in a standoff; he hesitated terribly, picking up the spear and then putting it down again.
"Every second you delay, a young lady might die. There were more young ladies who bought my book than just the ones you found out; there were even earlier ones."
These words finally elicited a response from Morey. His spear pierced directly through the woman's fair neck, and blood gushed out, soaking through her red dress, vivid and glaring.
The woman's lips moved slightly, as if she were saying something. Her eyes were focused on a certain spot, and a smile appeared on her face. Her words, "Peter, your Anna has finally come to find you..." dissipated into the air.
Eli frowned, a puzzled look on his face, because he actually saw Peter, the same Peter he had seen yesterday, in the direction the woman was looking. Peter's eyes were also looking at the woman, filled with longing and love.
Is it a ghost? Or an illusion?
Because it seems that no one else saw it.
The woman's body fell to the ground, and the illusory Peter reached out his hand towards her, but his body once again turned into countless bubbles.
"I'm going to check if those ladies have woken up. Could you please help me dispose of her body?" Morey said to them, then hurried away.
“Okay.” Phil Gray and the others nodded.
After Morey's figure disappeared into the distance, Ernest sheathed his longsword and walked towards the corpse. "I'll drag her away. You guys think about where to bury her?"
"etc!"
Phil Gray suddenly thought of something, "Well, I think dragging her out like this would definitely scare the general public. Let's just put her in my space for now. As for where she goes, she's dead after all, and everything from the past is gone. Let's bury her in the cemetery in the White Chrysanthemum District."
“That’s true.” Ernest nodded.
Her body was covered in blood. Phil Gray looked away, suppressing his fear, and put her into his spatial stone.
"You two go back and help Captain Morey first. Eli and I will go to the cemetery."
“Okay.” Ernest hesitated for a moment, then nodded.
Patrick replied, "Cousin, you need to take care of yourself."
"good."
Eli gave a strange smile.
We boarded a horse-drawn carriage bound for the Baiju District Cemetery.
Eli conjured a silver dagger from his palm, its surface engraved with intricate patterns that formed a complex and exquisite design.
“Here, I guess you need this right now?” Eli handed over the dagger.
“What?” Phil Gray decided to pretend he didn’t understand.
"Didn't you need the deceased's right hand before?" Eli blinked. "This woman's hand is so fair and delicate, doesn't it perfectly match your requirements?"
“Wouldn’t it be a bit inappropriate to cut off her hand?” Phil Gray was actually hesitant. Although he had planned to do this for a while and had only brought Eli along because of this, he had been on Earth for so long that he still found it hard to accept cutting off the hand of someone who had just been alive. However, he did not expect Eli to see through his intentions at a glance.
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