The Rich Cultivator-Chapter 362 - 361. Don’t unlock this Chapter...

(due to technical issues, it uploaded twice... Seriously, There is not even a delete option)

Sometimes, people realize they’re dreaming.

For Astrid Rosefall, it always happened at the same moment—right before the worst part.

She was standing in the Bottom of the Labyrinth, an ancient ruin lost to time, where the walls wept shadows and the air trembled with sorrow. The silence was thick, pressing on her ears like cotton soaked in regret.

Her father lay before her.

The light dimmed, as if the world itself refused to witness what was about to unfold. Her hands trembled, yet they moved as if controlled by something beyond her—a force both foreign and familiar. A silver blade gleamed in her grip, trembling slightly, reflecting a distorted image of her tearless eyes.

She tried to speak, to cry out, but no sound escaped her lips.

Slowly but surely.

She plunged the blade forward, her body shaking with each heartbeat. It pierced flesh.

Slowly but surely.

Her father’s eyes widened—not in pain, but in sorrow. He didn’t fight back. He simply looked at her, the corners of his lips twitching in a soft, heartbreaking smile. The blade buried itself deeper, parting muscle, bone, and the last remnants of her sanity.

Time crawled.

She wanted to stop. Gods, she wanted to stop. But her arms didn’t listen. Her hands were frozen in that cruel, merciless motion. The warmth of his blood soaked her fingers, thick and metallic, painting her white sleeves crimson. It ran down the hilt of the sword, dripping onto the ancient stones beneath them.

She would never forget the sensation—the horrible resistance as the blade pushed through his ribs, or the way his blood pulsed against her knuckles.

"I didn’t mean to," she whispered. But no words formed. The dream didn’t allow mercy.

She couldn’t cry. She couldn’t scream. She certainly couldn’t run.

He looked up at her, those once-kind eyes now dimming like fading stars. His lips moved, as if trying to say something she couldn’t hear.

Then, his hands rose—those strong, calloused hands that once lifted her high into the air when she was little—and reached for her.

They wrapped around her throat.

"I will never forgive you," he said.

His voice wasn’t angry. It was cold. Final.

Her knees buckled, and she clawed at his hands, gasping, choking, but he held tight. The dream wouldn’t let go. She was trapped, drowning in her own guilt, caught in a loop where forgiveness was a blade she could never wield.

"I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry..." she sobbed, her voice finally breaking free, cracking with despair.

But no matter how much she begged or struggled, she couldn’t escape. The dream held her tighter than his grip. Darkness crept in. Her vision blurred. Her strength faded.

Then—

A melody.

It was gentle, ethereal, like wind chimes in a forgotten garden. It wrapped around her soul like a warm blanket, humming through the abyss, dispelling the suffocating dark.

The nightmare dissolved like morning fog. Her father vanished. The blade slipped away. And her soul... finally, mercifully... rested.

Astrid stirred slightly, her face softening, no longer twisted in torment.

"I made sure she won’t have any more nightmares," Mana said softly, standing beside the bed. Her adult form was serene, her voice like a lullaby. She stroked Astrid’s hair with a motherly tenderness, her fingertips glowing faintly with residual magic.

Astrid lay there like a sleeping princess, her golden hair fanned across silk pillows, her breathing slow and even. The tension that once gripped her body had melted away, her face now peaceful in repose.

Behind Mana, the room was anything but quiet.

Darla had her arms locked tightly around Mathilda, who was kicking and squirming with exaggerated determination.

"Let me go, you tyrant! Only a true love’s kiss can awaken the sleeping beauty!" Mathilda cried dramatically, her eyes sparkling with mischief—and something less innocent.

"Like hell I’m letting you put your perverted lips on her!" Darla hissed, dragging her back like a lioness pulling a cub from danger.

Mathilda reached out, fingers clawing the air in Astrid’s direction. "But she’s so beautiful like this! Like a glass sculpture come to life! Like a cherry blossom in winter! Like a snack waiting to be devoured—"

"You’re making it worse," Darla grunted, tightening her grip. "Do you even hear yourself?"

"But look at her!" Mathilda protested, cheeks flushed. "She’s glowing like an angel fallen asleep after defeating all the demons of her past. I mean... isn’t that romantic?"

"It’s creepy."

"It’s poetic!"

Mana rolled her eyes, though a faint smile tugged at her lips.

"Let her sleep," she said, brushing a few strands of hair from Astrid’s face. "She deserves peace."

"She does..." Darla murmured, finally releasing a whining Mathilda.

The room fell quiet again, except for the faint hum of Mana’s magic still lingering in the air.

Mathilda folded her arms, pouting. "Fine. No kisses. But when she wakes up, I’m telling her how gallantly I tried."

"No, you’re not," Darla and Mana said in unison.

A minute passed.

Then, Mathilda turned towards Darla.

Darla took a step back in fear.

Mathilda suddenly pounced on her , her lips grabbed Darla’s lips who was in maid uniform.

Her tongue played inside Darla’s mouth as her hand groped her breast.

This sudden attack made Darla lost her strength.

"Yewww... So indecent." Mana who turned back into her usual form said.

"Stop... Haaa haaa..." Darla took a deep breath, there is a bridge made of saliva between her lips and Mathilda’s Lips.

Mathilda also took a deep breath and kissed her again.

Astrid’s fingers twitched ever so slightly, a tiny smile forming at the edge of her lips—as if she could somehow hear them even in her sleep.

Maybe dreams weren’t always nightmares.

Maybe, just maybe... some dreams were filled with the voices of friends who’d never let her fall too deep.

"What’s happening here?" a voice called out as a girl popped her head in, wearing nothing but a fluffy bathrobe.

Lily Gomes.

Sniff sniff "You smell like Tyler," Mana said, narrowing her eyes.

"Like hell I do," Lily snapped. "It’s been two months since we left the Abyss. That guy still hasn’t kept his promise." She chewed on her nails, clearly irritated.

"Maybe I should just push him down—like this pervert on the floor," Lily muttered and, without hesitation, kicked Mathilda away. Mathilda had been pinning Darla down in a rather compromising position.

With a yelp, Mathilda was launched out the window. A girl on a hoverboard zipped by and caught her effortlessly, then flew straight into the room through the same open window.

Mathilda fell on Darla again.

"Not Again..." Darla cried, though she didn’t resist that much.

"Hawk. Back from Tyler’s place?" Lily asked with a knowing smirk. Her eyes slid to Hawk’s neck, where a faint set of teeth marks peeked out. "That’s a pretty suspicious love bite."

Hawk’s face flushed crimson as smoke practically puffed out of her ears. "I-I was helping Boss Tyler move Sister Serena into his Pocket World! At that time, we just... well... things happened."

"Tsk. Never mind," Lily said, brushing it off. "What’s happening in the North? Did you gather all the intel?"

Hawk gave a firm nod and handed over a glass screen.

Lily tapped it, and a projection lit up in the air—a wanted poster.

It showed a beautiful, tanned-skinned woman with a cowboy hat and a smirk that could kill. Her bounty: 80 million Lydia.

"Oh, your girlfriend," Mana chimed in with a teasing grin.

"She’s not my girlfriend," Lily groaned, rolling her eyes and zooming in on the image.

Isadora Nightkiss.

She was the one who had stolen the Orion Cube from Lily deep within the Rosefall Kingdom’s Labyrinth.

"It seems this Isadora Nightkiss, along with several other Orion Cube fragment holders, is about to open something," Hawk explained. "Rumors are spreading across the Northern Seas. Even the Overlords are paying attention."

Lily swiped the image aside—only to be greeted by a short video clip of Tyler kissing Hawk.

"Awww—wrong video!" Hawk yelped and quickly swiped it away, her face now beet red.

The rest of the girls gave her a synchronized side-eye.

The projection changed again, this time showing a man sitting cross-legged on the back of a massive Titan Sea Beast. The waves around him stilled as if even the sea dared not disturb him.

"This guy’s been sitting here for Months. Just... watching the Ixalaria Continent," Hawk said casually. "Looks like he’s waiting for someone. Not our business though."

Mana leaned forward, her voice calm and cold. "That’s Immortal Feng Feiyan. He’s probably waiting to kill Tyler."

"W-What? An Immortal has a grudge against our boss?" Hawk nearly tripped over her own feet in panic.

"Don’t worry," Lily said with a shrug, still scrolling through the northern updates. "Tyler already knows. He said he’ll handle it."

She flicked through a few more reports, her expression sharpening as she gathered information.

Their journey to the Edge of the World was about to resume—and the North held more secrets than any of them expected.