Chapter 34: What Do You Dream Of? [Gift Bonus]

Lunareio’s grip loosened, his fingers uncurling from Veyrn’s throat as the last wisps of soulflare faded into his mouth.

His mismatched eyes—purple and blue—glowed faintly brighter for a moment, a satisfied sigh escaping his lips.

Veyrn’s limp body slipped from his grasp, plummeting toward the scarred earth below like a broken puppet, his body twisting in the air as the wind howled around him.

Just as Veyrn fell, a ripple of energy coursed through Lunareio’s body. His head tilted slightly, as though listening to an unseen voice.

Within his mind, the Moon God System spoke, its cold tone echoing through his consciousness.

⫷『Notice: You have consumed a Dream. Hunger partially satiated. Stats rising.』⫸

A surge of power pulsed through him—very small, but it was there.

His muscles tightened, his senses sharpened by just a fraction, and the faint glow of his skin intensified, as if the moonlight itself were seeping deeper into his essence.

The taste of Veyrn’s ambition lingered on his tongue—bitter yet invigorating. He flexed his hand, feeling the strength ripple through him, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

But before he could savor the moment, a flicker of movement caught his attention.

His head snapped around just as Harrow appeared behind him in a blur of shadow.

The air crackled with dark energy as a sword of writhing shadows coalesced in Harrow’s hand, its jagged edge gleaming.

He swung with all his might, a roar tearing from his throat, the blade slicing through the air toward Lunareio’s neck.

The moon god reacted in the final heartbeat. With a flick of his wrist, a shimmering shield of silvery light materialized before him.

Harrow’s shadow sword collided with it in a deafening clash, the impact sending a shockwave rippling outward.

The shield held firm, absorbing the blow, but the sheer force of Harrow’s strike reverberated through the air.

The collision hurled Lunareio downward, his body spiraling toward the earth. He crashed into the ground with a thunderous boom, the impact cratering the dirt and sending plumes of dust and silvery flame billowing into the sky.

The divine circle blazing above—the sigil of his Authority—flickered once, twice, then dissolved into motes of light, vanishing as though it had never been.

Harrow landed a short distance away, his chest heaving, the shadow sword still clutched tightly in his hand.

His eyes burned with a touch of rage and desperation as he stared at the settling dust where Lunareio had fallen.

The mountainside grew uneasily silent, the rain of moonlight spears ceasing entirely, leaving only the echoes of their clash hanging in the air.

The dust began to settle, revealing Lunareio rising slowly from the crater. He brushed a speck of dirt from his sleeve, his lips curling into a faint, mocking smile as he gazed at Harrow.

The air around him thrummed with residual power, the boost from Veyrn’s consumed Dream still coursing through his veins.

“Persistent, aren’t you?” he murmured, his voice carrying that same unnerving calmness, as though the chaos around them were a mere inconvenience.

Harrow didn’t respond with words. His grip tightened on the shadow sword, its dark energy pulsing.

He darted forward, his speed a blur, closing the distance between them in an instant.

The blade arced downward, aimed at Lunareio’s chest—a strike meant to end the fight before the god could regain his footing.

Lunareio’s hand shot up, palm outstretched, and a wall of moonlight flared into existence just before the sword could connect.

The impact rang out like a bell tolling across the battlefield, shadows clashing against light in a burst of sparks.

Harrow pressed forward, muscles straining, his teeth gritted as he poured every ounce of his will into breaking through.

The shield wavered but held, its surface fracturing slightly under the relentless assault.

“You’re fast,” Lunareio said, his tone almost approving.

“But speed alone won’t save you.” With a subtle twist of his fingers, the shield pulsed outward, forcing Harrow to leap back or be flung away.

The god stepped forward, his presence growing heavier, as his silver divine aura began to emanate from his body, the air thickening with the weight of his Authority.

In the distance, Veyrn’s body lay crumpled where it had landed—motionless but still faintly breathing.

Harrow’s eyes flicked toward his fallen comrade for a split second, a flicker of worry breaking through his resolve.

That moment of distraction was all Lunareio needed.

“Luminous Decree: Shatterveil.”

The ground beneath Harrow erupted in an explosion of silvery fissures, each crack releasing tendrils of light that lashed out like whips.

Harrow twisted midair, dodging the first few strikes, but one caught his leg, sending him spinning.

He hit the ground hard, rolling to a stop with a grunt, his shadow sword flickering as his concentration wavered.

Lunareio advanced slowly, the predator closing in on its prey.

“Your friend dreamed of standing above the gods…

What do you dream of, I wonder? Shall I taste it too?”

Harrow pushed himself to his feet, blood trickling from a cut on his temple, his breaths ragged from the pressure of Lunareio’s divine aura.

“You’ll choke on it,” he snarled, raising his sword again.

The shadows around him deepened, pooling at his feet like ink, then surging upward to envelop his form.

His silhouette blurred, becoming something less human, more primal—a living beast forged from darkness… almost looking like a realm eater.

With a roar, Harrow launched himself at Lunareio once more.

Lunareio spun his phantom moon spear and charged toward him as well.

The battlefield trembled beneath the force of their collision. Light and shadow intertwined, each strike reverberating like thunder, as the moon god and the mortal clashed under the indifferent stars.

Both were pushed back by the shockwave of their clash.

Harrow lunged forward again, his right arm slashing downward, cutting through the air with a vicious hiss.

Lunareio’s left hand twirled the phantom moon spear in a smooth arc, the tip flashing as it intercepted Harrow’s blade mid-strike.

The collision sent a burst of sparks—silver and black—scattering outward, the sound echoing like a thunderclap.

Guardian began analyzing.

『Analyzing combat pattern—downward slash, high force, predictable angle. Adjusting counter: upward parry with rotational momentum.』

Harrow’s left foot dug into the earth, pivoting as he yanked his sword back and thrust it forward in a sharp stab toward Lunareio’s midsection.

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