Infinity: Kill your way through the movie world.

According to some historical records, this water is not a real liquid, but a personification of the world's concepts of purification, memory, and beginning.

It possesses the powerful ability to contain, transform, and endow with the characteristics of 'order'.

If we could obtain it, it might perfectly solve the problem of finding a substitute for holy water, and we might even be able to use it as a basis to develop more powerful exorcism weapons that do not rely on any external pantheon.

Of course, this is only the official version of events.

Wu Heng came here for more than just this.

His figure disappeared into the shadowy passage, heading towards that place hidden in the cracks of reality, a place where oblivion and dreams mingled.

The 'Sleeping Lord's' lair is not located in any geographical location.

It dwells in the space between reality and dreams, a place known as the 'Abyss of Oblivion'.

There is no distinction between sky and earth here, only endless, slowly swirling gray mist.

Countless translucent fragments of memory, like jellyfish, float within, emitting faint whispers and a soft glow.

Silence is the dominant theme here; even time seems to thicken.

Of course, this nature god does not have the power to control time; it is all just a mental illusion.

Just like when a person is sleeping, they may feel like they have a long dream, but in reality, only a few minutes may have passed.

When Wu Heng's figure emerged from the shadows and stood in this void.

His arrival immediately caught the attention of the place's owner.

Like a pebble thrown into stagnant water, it shattered the timeless tranquility.

The gray mist parted automatically, revealing a path leading into the depths, as if silently guiding or perhaps warning.

At the end of the path was a relatively 'solid' area.

It is a platform composed of countless solidified dream fragments and pale crystals of thought. After all, it is just a nature god. Although it can reside in such an environment, it still needs a vessel belonging to reality.

In the center of the platform, something that defies description 'waking up'.

It was like a constantly shifting mass of starlight, shadows, and flowing mercury, with two deep points of light at its core, like eyes, currently gazing at Wu Heng.

"A powerful intruder."

A voice rang out directly in Wu Heng's consciousness, ancient, weary, and carrying a hint of displeasure at being disturbed.

"I sensed your search and your intentions. Humanity is indeed suffering, but must this suffering be transferred to me?"

Those two points of light—the 'eyes' of the Sleeping Lord—clearly reflected Wu Heng's figure, containing a deep sense of dread.

It wasn't truly asleep and oblivious to the world; it was clearly aware of Wu Heng's reputation and everything that had happened at the 'Paradise Field Hotel'.

"What have I done? Have I violated human laws or gone against the balance of nature?" its question asked with a sense of desolation and anger. "Why do you want to take my life?"

"Human beings are children of this world, and I was also born from this world. We could have lived in peace. What difference is there between your behavior and that of a wanton heaven or hell?"

Wu Heng stood still, his black trench coat motionless in the windless dream.

He listened to the other person's questioning without any emotional fluctuation on his face, as if listening to insignificant background noise. After a moment, Wu Heng shook his head slightly, his calm voice breaking the communication of consciousness, clearly resounding in this silent realm:
"I am not a judge of nature, I don't care about right or wrong, my justice is only given to humankind, or to non-human beings who have made great contributions to humankind."

His gaze was like a knife, stripping away the emotions in the other person's words, leaving only the core message: "And you are not included."

Taking a step forward, the dream crystal beneath his feet emitted a faint cracking sound, as if it were bearing an unbearable weight.

Therefore, humanity does not expect heaven, much less hell, to uphold some empty justice. We need to fight for what we need with our own hands.

"This is why I came here."

"Since that's the case!" The Lord of Sleep's voice carried a hint of determination and anger.

The surrounding gray mist suddenly boiled, and countless fragments of memory shot towards Wu Heng like an enraged swarm of bees, accompanied by sharp mental howls!
These fragments contain the power of forgetting, dormancy, and even memory distortion, enough to cause any living being to instantly lose itself or fall into an inescapable dream.

But it was useless against Wu Heng, who possessed the characteristics of dreams and was the 'Lord of Dreams'!
Even if he doesn't use the properties of dreams in this world, 'dreams' still can't affect him.

Wu Heng didn't even move.

The shadow behind him expanded as if it were alive, and the outline of the puppet spirit flashed by within it.

The two divine tentacles, a fusion of war and famine, and shimmering with iridescent light, suddenly extended out, forming a miniature, constantly rotating energy vortex in front of them.

The incoming fragments of memory, like moths to a flame, crashed into the vortex, where the mental attacks and dream energy they contained were instantly decomposed and absorbed, transforming into nourishment for the tentacles' own divine energy.

The vortex even generated a suction force, actively pulling in more mist and debris from the surrounding area.

The Lord of Sleep let out a silent roar.

The entire Abyss of Oblivion trembled.

Its ever-changing form suddenly solidified, transforming into a giant gray sword spanning the void, composed of pure 'forgotten' energy, carrying the will to erase everything, and slashed down towards Wu Heng.

This strike transcends physics, targeting the soul and existence itself.

Wu Heng made a move.

He raised his right hand, palm up, and the dark red war tentacle behind him, imbued with the will to shatter war, moved in sync with the movement of his arm, like a blood-red spear that was attacking from the opposite direction, thrusting straight at the oncoming sword.

There was no earth-shattering explosion, only a different kind of friction and annihilation.

The moment the gray greatsword touched the tentacles of war, it began to crumble inch by inch, as if it had encountered an incomprehensible conquest and rule-breaking.

The concept of forgetting that constitutes the sword is forcibly shattered and covered up by the more direct and violent authority of 'war'.

"Impossible!" The Sleeping Lord's mental scream was filled with disbelief.

Wu Heng's figure was like a ghost; the moment the war tentacles and the energy sword were locked in a stalemate, he had already appeared at the core of the Sleeping Lord's ever-changing form.

His left hand, fingers joined like a knife, condensed shadow energy into a thin yet incredibly sharp energy blade, which pierced precisely into the core of the starlight and shadow.

All illusions vanished, and the Sleeping Lord's body suddenly solidified and froze.

A bloody gash was cut into the gray, lumpy flesh, from which green blood seeped continuously.
Wu Heng pulled out a strange organ. (End of Chapter)