The sound of the bell didn't stop at the ears. It crawled into the skull, vibrating the brain like a tuning fork struck hard.
"Arghhh!"
All around the barracks, disciples began to scream. Some clawed at their own faces, blood seeping from their noses and ears.
Shen Mu felt that familiar sensation. It felt like an iron hook had been driven behind his navel, then yanked forcefully backward. The world before his eyes—the rotting wood of the barracks, the dirty earthen floor—began to liquefy. Colors melted like burnt oil paint.
Gravity vanished.
Darkness. Then, falling.
Shen Mu didn't resist. While other disciples screamed in the panic of transition, he allowed his consciousness to slide into the dimensional layer overlapping with reality. He controlled his heartbeat, relaxing his muscles. Fighting the current when entering the Dream Realm would only tear apart an untrained soul.
Thud.
Pain slammed into his back. The smell of wet earth and copper rust (blood) instantly assaulted his sense of smell.
Shen Mu opened his eyes.
He was no longer in the barracks. The sky above was a bruised purple, starless, as if the skin of the sky itself was rotting. The surrounding trees were not made of wood, but of giant bones curved strangely, covered in black moss that pulsed slowly as if breathing.
This was the First Layer of the Dream Realm: The Withered Bone Forest.
This place was the collective manifestation of the fear of starvation and death experienced by humans in this region for hundreds of years.
"Cough... where... is this..."
Around him, dozens of other disciples began to rise. They looked chaotic. Some vomited due to transition sickness. Their faces were deathly pale, their sanity slowly eroding from the Mental Pollution in the atmosphere.
Without protection, being here felt like standing naked in a blizzard. A coldness that wasn't physical pierced directly into the mind, whispering paranoia and despair.
Shen Mu stood up slowly, dusting the ash from his robe. He intentionally kept his face pale, his shoulders hunched.
But inside, his mind was as calm as the surface of a frozen lake.
An ordinary human soul can last about 1 hour here before starting to hallucinate. With my current weak physique, maybe 40 minutes, Shen Mu analyzed. But with the 'Stillness Without Waves' Breathing Technique I developed in my past life, I can minimize mental leakage by half.
He glanced toward the center of the crowd.
"Everyone huddle up! Don't get separated!"
Wang Tai's voice sounded dominant. The large-bodied Senior Brother was already standing tall. In his hand, he held a small copper incense burner.
He lit it.
Whoosh.
Thick white smoke poured from the burner. Miraculously, the smoke wasn't carried away by the wind. It formed a transparent dome five meters wide, enveloping Wang Tai and his lackeys.
Inside the smoke dome, their expressions instantly relaxed. The cold piercing their minds vanished. It was a safe zone.
The other disciples who had no incense, including Shen Mu, stared at the dome with hungry and envious eyes. Some tried to get closer.
"Stop!" snapped Wang Tai, kicking a skinny disciple who tried to enter the circle of smoke. "This dome is only big enough for five people! The rest of you, form a defensive line outside! If you make yourselves useful, maybe I'll let you inside in turns to catch your breath!"
A transparent lie. Shen Mu knew Wang Tai would never let anyone else in. He only needed a human meat shield to protect him from the first monster attack.
Tch, absolute leech, thought Shen Mu coldly.
However, he didn't try to force his way in. Instead, he took a step back, positioning himself at the very rear of the group, close to the shadow of a giant bone tree.
Their spawn location was in the southeast sector of the forest. According to Shen Mu's memories, the "Nightmare Fetus" would appear in a dry swamp about two kilometers to the north.
The problem: The path there went through a Dream Hounds nest.
He needed Wang Tai and his incense to attract the monsters' attention, while he moved in the blind spot.
"North direction," ordered Wang Tai, pointing at a path filled with thorny bushes resembling human fingers. "The Sect Elder's instruction is to search for Dream Herbs. Whoever finds a 'Weeping Blood Mushroom', I will reward with entry into the smoke."
The group began to move. About thirty people walked in a messy formation, driven by the fear of the darkness behind them.
Shen Mu limped at the back, his eyes constantly scanning the darkness of the forest.
Suddenly, his ears caught a sound.
Kreeet... Kreeet...
A sound like bone scraping against stone.
It came from the right. The bushes trembled. The purple fog seemed to churn.
Shen Mu's eyes narrowed. It's coming.
"Aaaaghhh!!"
A heart-wrenching scream broke the silence. A disciple walking on the right side of the formation was suddenly lifted into the air.
Something black and massive lunged from behind the trees.
It was a dog, or at least something that used to be a dog. It was the size of a bull. It had no skin, revealing wet red muscles that twitched. Its head was split vertically, eyeless, with only rows of irregular sharp teeth.
Dream Hound.
"Help! Help me!" The disciple struggled, his legs kicking the air as the monster's jaws locked onto his shoulder.
CRACK!
The sound of a shattering shoulder bone was clearly audible.
"Run! There's a monster!" "To Senior Wang's formation! Hurry!"
Mass panic exploded. The disciples scattered, most running toward Wang Tai's smoke dome, hoping for protection.
Wang Tai was deathly pale. "Back! Don't bring that monster here, dammit!" He drew his iron sword—a physical weapon slightly infused with dream spiritual energy—but his hands were shaking.
Shen Mu, amidst the chaos, did the opposite.
As everyone ran away or toward Wang Tai, Shen Mu dropped to the ground, rolling into a gap between the roots of a large bone tree.
He held his breath. Stopped all muscle movement completely. Made himself no more significant than a rock.
From his hiding place, he watched with unblinking eyes.
Blood sprayed, soaking the forest floor. The monster was busy tearing apart its first prey. However, Shen Mu saw two more shadows moving among the trees.
Three of them. One mother, two pups, Shen Mu analyzed quickly.
If Wang Tai were smart, he would extinguish the incense and hide. The light and scent of the incense were to monsters in the Dream Realm what blood was to sharks: markers of high-quality prey.
But Wang Tai was stupid and greedy.
"Attack! Attack together! Use the others as bait!" screamed Wang Tai from inside his smoke dome, which shone brightly in the darkness of the forest.
Shen Mu's smile blossomed in the shadows.
"Good, Wang Tai. Shine brighter," he whispered, almost soundlessly. "Lure them all away from the northern route."
This was the moment.
While the group became a buffet for the monsters, Shen Mu crawled backward. Out of the battle zone, heading toward the deeper darkness in the north, alone, without weapons, and without light.
A true hunter needs no light. He merges with the darkness.