But even as a friend, he had already said enough. How she decided was her own business.

The two parted ways at the bookstall alley, each heading home.

William Clark returned home to find a note from his parents—they had gone to the hospital to take care of Grandpa.

Only two plates of cold food were left on the kitchen table.

One plate of stir-fried cucumber with eggs, and one plate of shredded pork with red peppers.

William Clark reheated some rice and quickly ate a meal with the cold dishes. Then, excitedly, he grabbed the dictionary and hid in his bedroom, starting to study the passage from his dream.

His bedroom was both his sleeping place and his study for doing homework.

As evening fell, the night grew deeper.

William Clark turned on the desk lamp, and under its pale yellow light, he looked up the words of that ancient Grein passage one by one.

About half an hour later.

“Interesting!” William Clark, combining the basic grammar recorded in the dictionary, quickly translated the two words on the cover.

“It really is standard ancient Grein! I’ve never come into contact with this language family before, and except for a bit of an arched style, these two words are actually flawless!”

William Clark stared intently at the two phrases in front of him, momentarily at a loss for words.

It was clearly something that had only appeared in his dream...

“So, these two words, translated... the general meaning should be...”

Swish, swish—he slowly wrote out the translations under the phrases, referencing the dictionary word by word.

‘Sharp weapon, longsword, of, method, notes, journal’

“Huh? Put together... could it be... swordsmanship journal?!” William Clark was stunned, suddenly realizing.

Ancient Grein was translated character by character. The basic grammar wasn’t complicated. Often, a single letter could contain several meanings.

But when put together, the meaning contained within left William Clark momentarily dazed.

Chapter 9

Under the lamp, William Clark wore a slightly grave expression, lowering his head to carefully examine the text he had just translated.

Then he repeatedly flipped through the dictionary to check if he had made any mistakes.

Amid the sound of pages turning, he checked three times in a row and was sure he was correct.

“If it really is a swordsmanship journal, then the book I saw in my dream...” William Clark felt a bit shaken.

He still remembered the book was filled with dense, clear text, almost none of it repeated.

If all of that was real...

A strong curiosity suddenly welled up from deep inside him.

“That was clearly a dream, how could it be?? How is that possible??!” William Clark pressed his lips together, lowered his head, and quickly continued translating the next passage.

The text he had memorized consisted of two parts: the front cover, and a small passage in the lower right corner. He didn’t know what it was for.

Soon, he compared it with the dictionary and, stumbling a bit, translated the remaining text.

Fortunately, ancient Grein wasn’t too difficult, and there were quite a few domestic experts in this field. William Clark felt a bit lucky to have been able to buy a dictionary so easily.

After finishing the translation, he picked up the paper, shook it out, and laid it flat on the table, his expression subtly changing.

“What exactly is this...”

William Clark looked complicated.

At this point, he was one hundred percent sure that something was wrong with his dreams.

On the white paper spread out on the table, black characters on a white background clearly read:

‘Level 2 Swordsman, handwritten by Lawell’

“Level 2 Swordsman... what on earth is this...” William Clark felt his worldview was being overturned like never before.

He fell silent for a moment, then quickly crumpled up all the translated papers, got up, and hurried to the door.

The living room was pitch black; his parents still hadn’t come home.

He took a deep breath, quickly walked to the kitchen, and soaked the paper ball under the tap.

Amid the sound of running water, William Clark watched as the writing on the paper quickly blurred, soaked through, and finally turned into a faint black smudge, nothing visible anymore.

Only then did he throw the soaked paper into the trash, dry his hands, leave the kitchen, and return to his bedroom.

Without washing up, William Clark took off his clothes, pants, and socks, and crawled into bed.

He was eager to test it, to return to the dream from yesterday, to memorize a bit more, to see if that book could really be read.

And that nightmare from before... would it continue tonight?

“Hope I can get into that dream again...” William Clark felt a bit of anticipation.

All his previous fear was gone. He closed his eyes, adjusted his breathing, and emptied his mind.

Time ticked by, bit by bit.

William Clark’s consciousness gradually began to blur. In a daze, he seemed to hear the security door in the living room being opened with a key, and someone walked in.

No voices, no other sounds.

Soon, footsteps came from the hallway, then his bedroom door was pushed open.

Someone stood at the doorway, watching him for a while. He could clearly feel that the person was standing right there, watching him with an inexplicable look.

“Is it Dad or Mom?” William Clark wondered groggily.

But soon, he didn’t even know when the person left. His consciousness slipped into sleep.

...

...

A gloomy manor.