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What cultivators feared most were inner demons. Yet this Hundred-Faced Nightmare had gone and taken in other people’s consciousnesses one after another; the fact that it had not driven itself insane was impressive enough already. One of He Lingchuan’s eyebrows rose in askance. “If you completely forget your past, then isn’t that no different from dying?”
“You could say that, or you could say it’s a new birth,” the grotesque head replied. “In our world, memories are the cheapest thing there is. Otherwise, Hundred-Face would never have grown one self-awareness after another.”
“So dreams form a world of their own too?”
“Of course they do. Dreams are reflections of the real world; the two are like outer and inner surfaces of the same thing.”
He Lingchuan pointed around them. “This isn’t a dream, then?” The Soul-Stealing Mirror had said that it was not, but he still wanted confirmation.
“Of course not. We originally thought this was a soul land, a place for dead souls to linger!” The grotesque head glared. “But after observing carefully, it’s become clear that this is the only soul land of its kind. It’s too strange. It’s nothing like any we’ve ever visited.”
“You’ve been to other soul lands too?” Does that mean that the mirror’s understanding of Panlong City was ...
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