Alice in the Land of Steam

"Has Lin Ge been having any dreams lately?"

Ovira suddenly asked.

The young man was tearing a small piece off a loaf of toast and putting it into his mouth as discreetly as possible, chewing slowly and savoring the subtle changes in the complex texture on his tongue. After getting used to it, it didn't seem so strange anymore. Perhaps it was also related to the surrounding environment: the warm sunlight, the slightly intoxicating temperature, and the bright world he saw after leaving the dark underground, all of which made him feel happy and thus he overlooked many unimportant details.

Upon hearing Ovira's question, the young man paused slightly. He temporarily shifted his attention from the food in front of him, glanced up at Princess Beman who was expecting an answer, and instead of answering immediately, asked, "Why are you suddenly asking such a question?"

"Hmm...maybe it's just something I felt compelled to say?"

Ovira touched her lips with her finger, pondering for a long while before giving a somewhat puzzling answer. She then explained softly, "Because, didn't I enter the Nibelungen illusion earlier? That illusion felt like a dream, yet different from ordinary dreams. Since the power of the curse began to weaken and I regained the right to close my eyes and sleep, I occasionally dream. But even the most vivid dreams have an ethereal quality. Even while in a dream, you're clearly aware that they're temporary, disappearing as soon as you wake up, or even quickly forgotten. But the Nibelungen dream is different. It felt so real, as if I had experienced it in the real world. From the moment I woke up until now, its impression on me is still vivid; I can even remember every single detail..."

She recalled the dream she had, a gentle expression appearing on her face, as if reminiscing about an experience from many years ago, back when she was still an innocent and naive girl, when the ancient kingdom of the Light Elves still stood in the mountains of Sosen, and when the violets in the courtyard had not yet gained the power to transcend fate and bloom passionately regardless of the seasons: "I dreamed of my teacher again, and we talked about so many things. We talked about the past, the violets she planted in the courtyard, and my experiences after leaving the Sosen Mountains..."

Of course, there was also the fact that she cried in her teacher's arms, dared not confide her sadness to her, and was ultimately identified by her as a little girl who thought she knew everything but actually knew nothing about love. But perhaps she felt it was too embarrassing, or perhaps she was worried about being laughed at by the young people, so Princess Bellamon did not say it.

"What an incredible dream," the young man commented after hearing it.

He knew, of course, that Ovira's experience in the illusion wouldn't be so simple. It must have included the part where she fought against the will of the dragon Nidhogg and vied for control of Nibelungen—the most dangerous and unpredictable part, where no one knew the outcome until the very last second. But since Princess Bemang was unwilling to speak of it, she must have her reasons. Therefore, the young man only commented on the part she was willing to tell him.

“That’s really incredible.” Ovira’s eyes crinkled into crescent moons when she smiled. “So I wanted to ask, Lin Ge, have you ever had a similar experience? Have you… had any incredible dreams lately?”

"Well..."

For some reason, the young man's eyes darted around, and after hesitating for a long time, he still couldn't give a clear answer, making Ovira a little suspicious. Her eyes were like daggers, stabbing straight at him, silently pressuring him. But the young man stuck to his principles and didn't waver, ultimately revealing no information. Ovira reluctantly withdrew her gaze and muttered, "I'll let you off this time."

Lin Ge breathed a sigh of relief.

As for whether he dreamed, the answer is yes. In fact, ever since entering the underground world, the young man had been having the same dream. Like most dreams, he was so immersed in it that he felt as if he were still in the real world, but upon waking, he felt so empty. He tried desperately to remember, but still couldn't recall a single detail of the dream. After waking, he forgot; it seems that's always the law of the world.

If that's the case, how does he know that these dreams are all the same dream? Perhaps it's because they all possess a similar warmth, like the sunlight streaming through the porthole at this moment, so beautiful it's intoxicating, and so bright it's irresistible to chase after.

But Ling was unwilling to share this feeling, not out of selfishness, but because of… shame? Such emotions were rare in young people these days, yet he still felt them intensely, especially when facing Ovira. The young man pondered this, but couldn't find a suitable explanation, ultimately attributing it to his nature. Perhaps he was born an introverted and sensitive person, therefore unsuitable to share secrets with others, no matter how close they were.

Even the departed shepherdess might not fully understand all the emotions or knowledge about the young man she deeply loved, so Ovira didn't need to worry about such treatment. She kept her word; having said she would let Linge off the hook, she wouldn't dwell on the topic any longer. Therefore, when she spoke again, she discussed ordinary matters, such as the Countess's health, Leticia and Serena's exploration of the ship, what everyone on Cloud Whale Island was doing, and of course, the warship beneath her feet.

“Ovira, I have a question.” At this point in the conversation, Ling asked, “Now that you are the master of Nibelungen, can you use its power to remove the curse of the Mushroom Power Tribe?”

The young man hadn't forgotten his promise; rather, he held it firmly in his heart. On one hand, he was a man who valued his word highly, neither making promises lightly nor breaking them casually; on the other hand, the Mushroom Force tribe had provided them with much assistance, from sheltering them for the night and guiding them on the right path to the Ark Key bestowed by Elder Momogu—all playing a crucial role in their journey. Without their help, the travelers from the surface world would have had to take countless detours to reach their destination.

Both morally and logically, they should repay this debt, and for the Mushroom Force tribe, nothing is more important than lifting the curse from their bloodline. Their misfortune, their nickname "Grey Mushroom People," and their isolation from the world for thousands of years are all caused by this curse, and therefore, they will perish in the same way.

This is roughly what is meant by destiny.

Ovira hadn't forgotten her promise, but when she heard Ling's question, she shook her head: "No." Princess Beman paused briefly, then added, "At least not now. I haven't fully mastered the power of the Nibelungen yet. Acting rashly might only lead to the opposite result."

Lin Ge paused for a moment, then asked, "When can we do that?"

“That will be when I have complete control of Nibelungen.” Ovira glanced at Linger in surprise, somewhat amused. She had already made herself so clear, so why was the young man going to such lengths to ask about something so obvious?
Lin Ge gave Ovira a deep look. Compared to before, he had indeed changed a lot. Perhaps he had become softer, gentler, and even more indecisive. But some things would never change, such as his extraordinary intuition—that inhuman premonition that seemed to reveal the answer not through observation but directly from fate. This intuition often helped young people to accurately discern the only truth from the chaotic vortex. So he certainly knew that Ovira was lying. Her reason for refusing was not that she couldn't do it, but that she didn't want to.

In other words, it's not that we lack the ability, but rather that we need to wait for the right opportunity.

Perhaps she knew such a reason was strange, which is why she didn't want to tell the truth and instead came up with a convenient excuse. But she forgot that any lie that was difficult to discern would be crystal clear to this young man, leaving no flaws. Or perhaps she actually knew very well, but still did it this way, confident that even if the young man saw through her lie, he wouldn't expose her.

If that's the case, what reason is there not to be honest?
Which is more pathetic: lying knowing it will be seen through but still doing it, or knowing it's a lie but still trying to maintain it?
Regardless, she was right after all.

After a moment of silence, Lin Ge slowly nodded: "Then I'll leave it to you."

"Yes!" Ovira replied with a happy smile, perhaps with a hint of relief, relieved that she could still gain the precious trust of the young man, the most valuable emotion in the communication between lives: "Don't worry, Ling, it won't be long, it definitely won't be!"

Does the repeated use of "certainly" indicate a firm resolve, or does it imply something else? But surely nothing in this world is certain? Some words can be easily uttered because people don't yet know the cost of fulfilling them. Later, they may know, but it's too late to change anything.

Ling didn't speak again, but slowly tore the remaining toast into pieces, then, along with the strangely flavored condiments, put them into his mouth, chewing them carefully before swallowing. His empty stomach gradually filled, but another, even greater emptiness followed, like an abyss in his heart that could never be filled. He looked up, gazing through the half-broken porthole at the azure sky, the sunlight like pillars, casting flickering shadows. He squinted, suddenly finding the light somewhat blinding.

It wasn't the dappled light and shadow he'd seen on the Cloud Whale Sky Island, filtering through the primrose leaves, nor the cold, metallic light reflected from the icy rocks of the underground world. It surged from the deepest part of the clouds, from the end of time, from a distant place beyond the reach of memory, with a honey-like, viscous texture, sometimes sickeningly sweet; yet it also possessed a blade-like sharpness, slicing the sky into countless fragments, suddenly inspiring fear at such moments.

In this world, the sweet taste of happiness and the sharp blade that cuts life into countless wounds are perhaps the same thing, just as the memories that bring happiness and unhappiness are mostly similar. Ling felt a wave of dizziness; his consciousness gradually detached, breaking free from the shackles of his body, drifting towards some unknown depth. He saw only a silent cemetery, tombstones standing like a forest, the ancient oak forest emitting an even more ancient sound; he also saw blurry figures moving, and from afar came a song, an ancient and sorrowful song, like a folk song about the Sosen Mountains that Ovira once hummed, or a lullaby that Saint Charlotte sang to lost lambs under the moonlight.

Memories flooded back, almost overwhelming him; at that moment, he would no longer have the right to return to the human world. But just as the young man was about to lose his way, a gentle touch pulled him back to reality. Through his half-closed eyelids, the light softened, returning to ordinary sunlight, warmly shining on his face.

“Linger,” Ovira’s voice seemed to come from the distant clouds, sometimes near, sometimes far, “What’s wrong?”

"Nothing, I'm just suddenly a little... sleepy," Lin Ge replied indistinctly. He wasn't sure if he had spoken, although the voice was definitely his own, it felt strange and distant. A sense of drowsiness slowly crept in. A gentle touch on the young man's brows and eyes made him want to close them temporarily, to avoid the glaring light. "Since that's the case, then don't hesitate," a voice in his mind said: "Close your eyes, rest for a while, isn't that what you've always wanted?"
"I told you so, you'd definitely be sleepy after not sleeping for so long. So—"

In the blurry light and shadow, a person slowly walked over and stopped in front of Linge. She blocked the light from the window with her body, and her face became distant in the light. She half-squatted down, stretched out her warm palm, and gently stroked the young man's tired eyebrows and eyes, bringing him a peaceful and quiet dark world. She said gently, "Sleep for a while, Linge."

"Hmm." In the hazy light, the young man replied softly, "...Saint Charlotte."

The hands paused almost imperceptibly. After a moment, a helpless yet tolerant smile appeared on the girl's face. She slowly shook her head: "You really are a slowpoke, Lin Ge. Remember, I'm not Sister Xia, I'm..."

She seemed to utter a name, but the young man could no longer hear it, for he had already immersed himself in that ancient and distant homeland, in a state between dream and wakefulness, where everything would leave him and cease to exist.

Ovira withdrew her hand, gazed at the sleeping face so close to hers, and sighed silently.

Anyway, at least the outcome was good... right? (End of Chapter)