From the Ship of Fools to Earl of Wugang

Four purified white waxes were placed on the four sides of the ring, with silver salts forming a circle between the candles.

He deliberately left a gap about a hand's width wide on the street-facing side of the old relief center, giving himself a way out.

Sulfur was refined outside the salt ring to thin the boundary between dreams and reality.

The benzoin incense is placed near the position where you are about to lie down to help your body enter a deep sleep and suppress any interference from unrelated dreams.

Edmund placed several items beside him in turn: the Relic Compass, the "Eagle in the Wind" loaded with bullets, and the protective salt and a short knife coated with alchemical grease on either side of his coat.

The mechanical pocket watch is placed near the left ear, so that the ticking of the second hand becomes a familiar, continuous sound.

Whether these things can be fully integrated into the Dream Realm requires actual verification.

Edmund sat cross-legged in the salt circle and lit a white candle. He pressed his hand to his brow and silently repeated in his mind:

"If my heart rate drops below 5,000 beats per minute, I must return immediately."

After the seventh repetition, Edmund opened his eyes and began to loudly recite the modified prayer from the Kelley necromancy.

"Surgite, mortui, et appropinquate mihi."

(Rise from nothingness, O dead, and draw near to those who call you.)

"Ego sum te peto et uidere queo."

(I am the one who calls. I seek you and I am able to see you.)

He began calling out the names of those responsible for preserving the ritual, following the order in the prayer:

"Raphael, protect my breath, let it remain in my flesh."

"Rayier, protect my right hand, so that nothing outside may use it to move."

"Miraton, protect my left hand, so that false gifts may not be taken back by me."

"Tamil, protect my feet, so that I will not embark on a path of no return."

"Rex, protect my name. If any spirit impersonates it, responds to it, or tries to take it from me, may the silver salts reject it, the wax illuminate it, and the words of protection drive it away."

Each time a name is pronounced, a spark is released from the corresponding white wax in that direction.

As the fourth name was called, Edmund felt his limbs grow heavy, with only the fingers pressed against his brow retaining a clear sensation.

He concluded the ceremony with a final prayer, sealing the conditions:

"Those who come near because of my weeping may remain outside the circle; those who appear because of my sleep may not enter my mouth or nose, may not touch my heart, may not linger in my shadow."

"When the five thousand heartbeats end, when the pocket watch passes the appointed time, when my body is touched, or when any of the four candles goes out, I will have permission to leave."

"At that time, dreams will return to dreams, shadows to shadows, and the dead will return to the kingdom designated by God."

"I then follow my own breath, my true name, and my heartbeat, returning to the flesh and blood that still awaits me."

"The door closes behind me, and nothing along the way may follow."

As the prayer ended, sparks flew from the surrounding candles.

The previous simplified initiation ritual had led him into a directionless, weightless, gray-blue chaos. The floating fragments and enormous shadows were beyond the comprehension of real-world experience.

This time, the Dream Realm presented a terrain that could be walked and understood.

When Edmund regained his senses, he found himself standing on a street paved with dark stone slabs.

The buildings on both sides are closely connected, but their styles are mixed.

To the left is a row of old-fashioned apartments with arched windows, while to the right are several shops with modern metal roller shutters. Further away stands a clock tower, its top jutting into the cobalt blue sky, its full outline obscured.

The sky and streets were empty, and the moon appeared in the depths of every window facing the street, in puddles, metal signs, and shop window glass.

Edmund looked down at himself. His clothes were the same as when he went to sleep. The eagle in the wind, the dagger, and the salt shaker were at his feet, and he could hear the ticking of his pocket watch.

Several doors, unsupported by houses, stand alone on the stone pavement. Looking through the open doors, the same street stretches out behind, but the direction of the moonlight and the age of the buildings seem to subtly change.

It was raining on the street behind one of the doors, and the rainwater disappeared as it fell onto the threshold.

Edmund went around to the back of the door, and the scene returned to the empty street where he was standing.

He recalled a post on the "Crux" forum. The poster mentioned that moonlight could sometimes be a key to unlocking other dimensions.

He had initially been unsure whether the statement was a literary device or some kind of mystical experience. The scene before him had provided the answer.

Dreams are natural passageways to the dream world, and those doors without architectural support probably connect similar projections left by different dreams.

Memories, fears, and desires that mortals experience during sleep leave temporary traces here, and their dreams are also influenced by projections from spirit beings, collective consciousness, and higher powers.

Edmund took out the Relics Compass to observe it; the black pointer under the glass was always deflected to a position about thirty degrees behind him.

As the street distorts slightly at the edge of vision, the pointer swings incessantly, trying to calibrate a direction that doesn't exist on the plane.

He turned, moved sideways, and walked into a nearby alleyway. No matter how his position changed, the pointer still generally pointed behind him.

Edmund put away his compass and went to a nearby building.

It was a gray wall without doors or windows. He placed his palm on the wall, activating his path intuition, trying to perceive the relationship between the building's boundaries and the street.

At first, there was only the cold, rough touch of the walls. A few seconds later, the surrounding space gradually took on a different shape in my consciousness.

Edmund realized for the first time that the "door" did not depend on the door frame for its existence.

Walls, mirrors, shadows, stagnant water, and even the gap between two thoughts can all form channels that have not yet been opened.

Some of them lead to adjacent dreams, some merely bypass a certain distance, and some have nothing beyond their boundaries.

Suddenly, a sound like a spring snapping came from inside the wall, and a message appeared.

Doors respect boundaries, keys respect doors. The most outstanding locksmiths should be artists, possessing a bold and persistent soul within their bodies.

Your understanding of "activation" has deepened, and your "activation technique" has become more proficient.

Edmund moved his hand along the outline he had just captured. With a little concentration, he could sense several points on the wall where spiritual energy was weak, and even vaguely perceive another street behind the wall.

He chose the weakest point to activate the activation spell. The wall tiles trembled slightly at first, and a few specks of dust fell from the cracks, then silence returned.

Trying to forcibly turn a wall without a door into a passage using an opening spell seems to be beyond his current comfort zone.

Edmund, however, deliberately tested and honed his abilities, repeatedly pushing his spirituality to the same vulnerable point.

The sound of the springs inside the brick wall grew clearer. On the third attempt, a black line the size of a hair appeared on the wall; by the fifth attempt, the black line had stretched from chest height to the ground.

The rapid depletion of his spiritual energy caused his forehead to throb, and the moons in the window began to overlap.

Edmund stopped to make sure the pocket watch was still ticking before inserting the dagger into the gap.

Finally, the gray wall gave in to his will with a low, grinding sound—the narrow crack, barely wide enough for someone to pass sideways, finally opened to both sides.