After fully clearing the first two layers of the dungeon once more, the two exhausted figures began their trek back upward.
Upon reaching the campsite entrance, Greg teased Victoria:
“How about it, Junior Sister? Want to squeeze into the tent with your Senior Brother for the night? I promise I won't lay a finger on you!”
Victoria paused, turning back to glare at him with undisguised contempt and vigilance.
Naturally, she didn't step inside. There was only a single, cramped tent in the campsite—barely large enough for one person to stretch out.
If two people slept together, they would be squeezed into an extremely tight space, making physical contact inevitable.
Based on her understanding of Greg, his promise of “not laying a finger on you” was about as credible as “it's already late at night, but I'll definitely go to sleep early.” The pledge was practically worthless.
“Bah, scumbag!”
Hurling those two words, Victoria turned on her heel and continued walking toward the exit without looking back.
She intended to use the cover of night to hurry back to the dorms and rest.
Though it was a bit of a walk, it was infinitely better than squeezing into a tent with a guy who couldn't stop talking nonsense.
“Sigh, I was actually serious this time, yet she still doesn't believe me.”
Greg shook his head, watching Victoria's retreating back disappear into the passage before stepping into the campsite alone.
Still, it was no big deal.
However, Victoria's refusal made Greg realize that his campsite infrastructure might need an upgrade.
Almost all the facilities in the campsite were barely enough for one person... well, plus a cat.
If Victoria and the others faced a situation in the future where they had to rest here, someone would end up sleeping on the cold, hard stone.
He certainly didn't want to be that person.
Thus, to save himself from ending up on the rocks, it was safer to upgrade.
“Buy a few more tents?”
Greg proposed a simple solution, only to quickly reject it himself.
“No, there's plenty of space here. Why not build a small wooden cabin instead? That way, even when they aren't around, I can enjoy it myself.”
Calculating his plans, he walked deeper into the campsite.
Then, he spotted the black cat.
Nightmare was perched atop a smooth rock beside the tent, her tail resting neatly around her front paws, her vertical amber pupils shimmering deeply in the firelight.
She looked as though she had been waiting there for a long time, her posture composed and elegant, like a queen waiting to receive a subject's audience.
“You've returned.”
Nightmare spoke, her voice carrying its usual laziness and composure:
“I have good news to share with you.”
“Hmm? What good news?”
Greg asked as he walked toward the underground river beside the camp.
A branch of the underground river flowed past the site, its water crystal clear and pleasantly cool.
He knelt down, cupping the river water to wash his face and wiping the dirt from his arms and neck.
The icy water washed away his fatigue and dirt from the day, instantly refreshing his spirits.
“I have recovered enough power to grant you a Divine Protection.”
Nightmare stated in a calm tone.
Greg's movements abruptly froze.
Without even bothering to dry the droplets on his face, he spun around, rushed over to Nightmare in a few strides, and asked excitedly:
“What? You mean I can get a Divine Protection right now?!”
He had originally thought he wouldn't manage to get a Divine Protection before the Hundred Academy Exchange officially began.
After all, the speed at which Nightmare recovered her strength depended entirely on faith, something he couldn't help with at all, leaving it up to Allie and the others to expand the church on their own.
Yet to his surprise, at this final moment, it made it just in time.
Nightmare nodded. “Yes. Lie down on the ground now, and I shall bestow the Divine Protection upon you.”
Greg blinked in surprise. “I need to lie down first? Can't you just give it to me right here?”
Nightmare explained:
“Because you currently possess half of my Godhood, I cannot bestow it casually as I once did for my believers. This process requires certain steps and a bit of... a sense of ritual. But rest assured, precisely because of this, the Divine Protection you receive will far exceed its past effects.”
“Then what are we waiting for?”
Hearing this, Greg didn't hesitate for a second. He sprawled flat on the ground, limbs spread out in a completely vulnerable pose, and crooked his finger at Nightmare:
“Come on, baby!”
“...I think I understand now why I felt such a strong desire to choose you back then.”
She murmured under her breath, taking light, graceful steps as she walked onto Greg's chest.
As she had only the weight of a cat, she was very light, exerting almost no pressure on his chest. Only her faint warmth seeped through his clothing, reminding Greg of her presence.
She lowered her head, her vertical amber pupils looking down into Greg's eyes.
“Close your eyes.”
Greg obediently closed his eyes.
Shortly after, he could clearly feel Nightmare's body temperature. The warmth seeped through his clothes onto his skin, gradually penetrating into his body.
Next, he heard Her voice—no longer its usual lazy or teasing tone, but a chant filled with ancient rhythm and divine sanctity.
“I am the Goddess of Night—Nightmare, ruler of the Realm of Eternal Night, master of the Gates of the Abyss, an existence walking the boundary between starlight and shadow. I take the dark moon as my crown, the night curtain as my cloak, and the breath of all things slumbering as my Authority.”
“Today, in my own name, with the bound fate between us as witness, I bestow upon you—my other half, my contractor, my chosen successor—the Divine Protection of Night.”
Along with Nightmare's chanting, Greg felt his body grow hotter and hotter.
The heat did not come from outside; it welled up from deep within, as if an invisible fire were coursing through his veins.
The heat was not scalding. Instead, it brought a warm, fulfilling sensation, as if something were taking root and sprouting inside his body, merging into one with him.
He could clearly feel a certain power filling his body—a surge emerging from the depths of his soul, flowing along his meridians and permeating every muscle, every bone, and every cell.
He did not resist the feeling; in fact, he found it comfortable, as this power harmonized perfectly with his very essence.
When this power reached its peak, Nightmare ceased her chant.
The surroundings fell into a brief silence, broken only by the sound of the distant underground river echoing in the breeze.
Then, Greg felt the weight on his chest suddenly become much heavier, followed by a soft touch falling upon his lips.
Rate on N.U.
