A dull longsword and a heartbroken villager

Even before Bray shouted, old man Irving knew what Logan was going to do.

"Clang—" Old man Owen rolled away from his wheelchair.

The next moment, Owen's wheelchair was torn to shreds by countless tentacles, its parts scattered all over the ground.

"Cough cough... Ah..." The old man struggled painfully on the ground.

Even though he knew in advance that Logan was going to attack him, Irving still couldn't avoid it.

After all, he was simply not agile enough.

"Is this what you call 'cunning'?" Logan asked.

Old man Owen can already foresee what will happen next; in a way, he lives his life with divination on his phone all the time.

So, old man Irving couldn't hear what others were saying, but he knew what they were saying; he couldn't see what others were doing, but he knew what they were doing.

"Logan, the dream will stop," Owen's voice rang out.

"Ah..." Owen painfully raised his finger on the ground.

The fog in the nightmare gradually dissipated, and the surrounding scenery became incredibly clear.

"Dong—" The bell in the town's clock tower rang out before it had finished.

"From now on, you will no longer be 'mysterious,' Logan."

Irving covered his mouth, blood seeping through his fingers.

After the fog cleared, Bray finally saw Logan clearly.

"Holy shit," Bray couldn't help but mutter.

Logan's behavior was a bit excessive.

“No way, this is my dream!” Logan looked at Owen in disbelief.

The face that had been shrouded in darkness was now exposed to the moonlight.

On a human face hung countless eyeballs.

"Owen! What did you do?!?!" Logan stared at Owen on the ground.

The barely alive Irving got up and pointed at Logan.

"It is time for us to be judged for our sins."

How did the outsiders die? Why did so many outsiders die in Knight?

It all comes down to what Irving and Logan did more than 20 years ago.

Irving was just as crazy as Logan back then.

Both he and Logan conducted experiments on human subjects.

The two used various methods to lure outsiders to Knight Town, then imprisoned them and experimented on them.

Irving was the one who deprived others of their senses first; how could he possibly deprive himself of his senses without any guarantee?

Unfortunately, Irving didn't achieve any real results for a long time.

Most people who are deprived of their senses will die soon afterward.

It could be suicide, or it could be due to an inability to care for oneself.

Irving alone has killed a lot of people, and if Logan is included, the number will be even more staggering.

The number of people killed by the two could probably pile up into a mountain of corpses.

Such heinous acts went undetected for a long time.

Countless corpses were burned.

One after another, the dead appeared in Logan's nightmares, lingering within them.

Over the years, the sins that Irving and Logan have borne are enough to make them die tens of thousands of times.

"We have long lost our humanity and are no longer worthy of being called human beings."

The voice coming from old man Owen was filled with sorrow.

When they did those things, Irving and Logan were no longer the same person.

If you've lost the hearts of the people, what kind of person are you?

If one's mind is not in control, then one's body cannot be in control of oneself.

In that moment of madness, the two had already embarked on a path of no return.

When and what exactly triggered Irving's realization of his sins remains unknown.

The old man only knew that even if he came to his senses, he couldn't change the fact that it had already happened.

Not all sins can be absolved through atonement.

“Ah…” Old Man Owen shouted in a hoarse voice.

"Ahhh..." Old man Owen grabbed Bray with his blood-stained hands.

“…” Bray glanced at the old man.

The old man struggled to open his gray eyes and looked at Bray with sorrow.

He had no power; he couldn't stop Logan.

In the end, all the so-called "shrewdness" was useless.

All the achievements I pursued throughout my life have come to naught.

He could only turn to others for help, to those who could solve everything.

"I pray to you, stranger, here and now."

Old Man Owen has been avoiding the issue, knowing full well that Logan is still conducting inhuman experiments, yet he only tries to stop Logan indirectly.

There wasn't a single attempt to confront Logan directly.

The old man's guilt prevented him from facing Logan, who was equally guilty.

Bray's arrival was an opportunity.

The arrival of this outsider brought a ray of light to old man Owen's gloomy sky.

—"Please…"

"To judge the sins of both of us."

The old man held Bray's hand, which then fell limply to his sides.

"Creak—" The wheels of the wheelchair beside him were turning weakly.

The old man, however, was no longer able to move at all.

The old man in the nightmare had died, lying in a pool of blood.

“Irving, poor Irving, you ended up accomplishing nothing.”

“My dearest friend, you will not even be able to witness the moment I glimpsed the truth,” Logan said regretfully.

The old man's body gradually decomposed, leaving only a wheelchair.

"What a pity, what a pity, my dearest friend."

"My path is the right one, Owen."

Logan opened his arms, a faint sadness on his eerie face.

“He said, ‘Let me judge you,’” Bray began.

The voice wasn't loud, and the person wasn't particularly energetic.

But it sent a chill down Logan's spine.

"Jud me? What right do you have to judge me?" Logan's eyes darted around.

"I'm wondering the same thing. On what grounds should I judge you?"

“I’m not some judge,” Bray said, swinging his longsword.

"I don't even know what you've done."

"It's too much to ask me to judge others."

Bray raised his longsword and spoke softly.

The moonlight was so pure and white that the light shimmering on the sword blade had a ritualistic quality.

It was a completely different atmosphere from the nightmare; it was a sense of holiness.

“That’s right, you’re a complete outsider who knows nothing, you have no right to judge me.” Logan grinned maliciously.

"Swoosh—" Of course, Bray's only response was to draw his sword.

The blade sliced ​​across Logan's chest, spraying blood everywhere.

"Aa ...

The chorus of screams pierced Bray's eardrums.

"It's so noisy," Bray said, covering his ear with his left hand, sounding a little annoyed.

“I don’t want to stay in this awful place any longer,” Bray murmured, then lifted his right eyelid.

There was no strong murderous intent in Bray's eyes.

But for some reason, Logan felt as if he were facing a demon.

A demon even more terrifying than this nightmare.

Logan's mind flashed back to the scenes of his own being killed.

"Buzz—" The clanging of the sword snapped Logan out of his temporary fear.

Only then did Logan remember that he was the master of the dream.

"Damn it, Irving's little trick." Logan clutched his chest, which was bleeding profusely and wouldn't heal.

Just as Logan was cursing, Bray's longsword was already in front of him.

There was no swordsmanship involved, just a horizontal thrust.

"Ding—" At the critical moment, the tentacles that extended from Logan's sleeve blocked Bray's attack.

"Finally, there aren't so many weird and strange things anymore." Bray's dead fish eyes were filled with excitement.

The feeling of being restricted is finally gone.

It seems that Irving just now cracked all of Logan's mysterious methods.

There are no monsters that cannot be slain, no fog that cannot be dispelled, and no traps that cannot be found out of nowhere.

Logan broke out in a cold sweat, and all his eyes trembled.

"No, the nightmare can't end like this."

"It can't end now!" Logan shouted.

Logan's voice sounded ethereal, sometimes near, sometimes far.

The white fog rose again, narrowing Bray's field of vision.

However, unlike the previous fog, Bray was still able to spot Logan.

This white fog is very different from the fog that had been in the town before.

"Dong—Dong—" The bell rang twice.

Under the cover of the chiming bells, Logan began his escape through the white fog.

That's right, Logan had no intention of fighting Bray.

Like Irving, Logan is essentially a scholar, not a sorcerer.

He knows absolutely nothing about combat.

Under the cover of the fog, Logan and Bray distanced themselves from each other.

Unfortunately, Logan wasn't as fast as Bray.