Chapter Four: The War Within the Dream

The flint knife was an indispensable tool for starting a fire by friction. It was efficient and easy to use, and soon Sun Licheng had prepared the wood for ignition. He placed the processed wood on a bed of dry leaves, held it steady with his feet, and began to rotate a sharp branch in the small hole, grinding and drilling.

Thanks to his improved control over his body, Sun Licheng quickly mastered the trick of spinning the branch fast and steady. After a while, wisps of white smoke rose from the wood beneath. At last, he had his first campfire since arriving in this world.

With the fire blazing, Sun Licheng stood with hands on his hips, surveying his surroundings. He felt the air was already tinged with the breath of civilization. With fire, humanity could ward off beasts prowling at night; with fire, Sun Licheng found once more the sense of being alive.

During his labor, Sun Licheng discovered that the flint knife was useless against the corpse of the magical beast.

He pondered for a while, then clapped his hands and exclaimed, "Those primitives didn't just use stone tools—they used bone tools as well! I have the bones of the magical beast!"

Without delay, Sun Licheng picked out a bone stripped clean of flesh, found a large slab of green stone, and hauled it to the little water hole he had discovered yesterday to begin grinding. The magical beast’s bone was indeed tough. With all his strength and dexterous muscle control, Sun Licheng spent the entire afternoon just to fashion a barely passable knife. Though unremarkable in appearance, it sliced through animal hide with remarkable ease. The jagged edge left by the bone worked like a tiny saw, swiftly splitting the beast’s pelt in two.

To intimidate wild animals, Sun Licheng fashioned a coat from the beast's hide and wore it. Untreated, the fur reeked with a foul stench and was stiff as stone, dreadfully uncomfortable—yet it was far better than going naked.

...

This was a broadleaf forest. Suddenly, a rustling sound startled several small animals in the woods, sending them fleeing. After three or four minutes, a green goblin pushed through the underbrush.

The goblin stood about one and a half meters tall, limbs thin and frail, appearing weak and easily bullied. Yet the beast hide wrapped around him deterred even the fiercest predators. This goblin was Sun Licheng. Three days ago, after processing the corpses in the animal graveyard, he had begun his journey to find a way home.

Sun Licheng was now in serious trouble: he had run out of meat. This body possessed tremendous strength and regenerative power, but the price was a voracious appetite.

Without food, his stomach rumbled like thunder; his arms felt weak, legs heavy, his head dizzy—an indescribable misery. Starved, Sun Licheng slumped against a big tree, grabbed a handful of leaves, and stuffed them into his mouth. The leaves were thick, tinged purple amidst green, seemingly poisonous.

Unknown plants must not be eaten recklessly—one wrong bite could cost your life. But...

Sun Licheng didn’t care at all.

He had reasoned it out: dying of poison would be better than starving. Perhaps, if he died, he might finally go home.

The more he thought about it, the more convinced he became—steady as could be.

A mocking laugh echoed in his mind.

He had barely chewed when a strange sensation surged to his brain, as if all the world’s most disgusting flavors—bitter, sour, numb—were mixed together. With a retch, Sun Licheng spat everything out, then coughed violently, taking ages to recover.

He began to wonder, “Could this body detect poisons? That doesn’t make sense.”

To test his theory, Sun Licheng picked a pitch-black fruit and tossed it into his mouth. Like with the leaves, after two bites he was forced to spit it out.

“This is a truly immortal body, with its own poison-detection system!” Sun Licheng waved his tiny arms and shouted to the sky.

From then on, he ate as he walked, tossing anything edible-looking into his mouth, regardless of toxicity.

After countless experiments, Sun Licheng confirmed that his body would automatically expel anything inedible, completely beyond his control. But if he came across something edible, no matter how tough or unpleasant, he could swallow it. The taste, however, depended greatly on the quality of the ingredient: poor food tasted weird—bitter, astringent, uncomfortable; good food brought immense satisfaction.

He also discovered some condiments: a tiny red berry, shriveled and spicy, reminiscent of chili peppers from Earth; a green nut that tasted like pepper. Lastly, Sun Licheng found certain plants possessed mysterious potent powers, which he suspected to be medicinal herbs of this world.

“Will I become this world’s miracle healer?”

The idea made Sun Licheng chuckle helplessly.

As he ate, Sun Licheng spotted a beautiful berry. It grew on a thorny shrub, about the size of a nectarine, blackish-red and alluring. He picked a fruit, squeezed it—fully ripe—and popped it into his mouth.

“Delicious, truly delicious!” Sun Licheng exclaimed. Then his eyes rolled back and he collapsed—drunk.

“Haha...”

The awakened deity was delighted to find Sun Licheng’s consciousness muddled, as if a massive crack had appeared in an iron wall. Such a heaven-sent opportunity could not be wasted; the deity immediately plunged into Sun Licheng’s mind.

“What is this place? What are these things?”

The deity shouted in Sun Licheng’s sea of consciousness, surrounded by a myriad of strange, colorful phenomena. There were endless torrents of steel, colossal spaceships traversing the cosmos, explosions shattering the skies, and glamorous action stars. It was a world he couldn’t comprehend, yet it felt oddly familiar.

As a god, this sovereign quickly regained his senses and began to use his divine powers, intent on eradicating Sun Licheng’s soul. Yet, it seemed futile...

“What exactly is this guy? It feels like battling an entire world.”

Soon, he realized something was amiss: Sun Licheng’s mind severely restricted him, preventing him from directly obliterating his soul.

“Could this fellow actually be a god too?”

The deity even started to wonder.

After some thought, he devised a plan: use the rules within Sun Licheng’s consciousness to orchestrate a war, guide the conflict, and ultimately destroy Sun Licheng’s soul.

“Heh, little one, don’t call me despicable.”

The deity laughed, but set the balance of power in the confrontation so lopsided that he was but a step away from crushing Sun Licheng completely.

...

Night. Lightning flashed, thunder roared. Sun Licheng slowly opened his eyes.

“My head hurts... Where am I?”

His mind was a chaotic racetrack. After some time, his vision refocused. He was in a hall—antique, primitive, with massive wooden pillars, a hearth, walls adorned with beast pelts, hideous bull skulls, and a wooden throne draped in animal skins. He himself sat upright upon the throne—well, if not for a broken armrest, it would have been quite imposing.

To his surprise, Sun Licheng found himself restored, once again the mature man in his forties.

“Sire, you’re awake?”

Before he could celebrate, a shrill female voice sounded. Looking up, he saw many figures standing at either side of the hall—if one could call them human. The speaker was a girl in a red hooded cloak. Her face was hidden, but the voice betrayed a less-than-benign character.

“Who are you?” Sun Licheng asked.

“I’m Little Red Riding Hood. Second-in-command of the stronghold. Sire, don’t you remember?”

Her explanation nearly made Sun Licheng tumble from the throne.

“Little Red Riding Hood? Then where’s Granny Wolf?”

“Sire, I’m here.”

A hideous wolf’s head popped out from behind Little Red Riding Hood, wearing a granny’s nightcap. To his shock, Granny Wolf and Little Red Riding Hood exchanged a knowing smile...

“There’s definitely something fishy going on here,” thought Sun Licheng, instantly understanding as an old hand.

His mind needed sorting out. As he prepared to ask more questions, a loud bang sounded outside. A toad wielding a steel fork rushed in, panic-stricken.

“Sire, terrible news! The enemy has breached our defenses!”

The toad shouted, and the hall erupted into chaos, the little monsters on either side clamoring.

“Silence! All of you, calm down!”

Unable to bear it, Sun Licheng roared. Instantly, the hall fell quiet.

He then spotted a man dressed like a scholar, and hope sparked in his heart.

“Who are you?” Sun Licheng asked.

“I am Master Dongguo, your humble subordinate.”

The scholar’s answer nearly made Sun Licheng faint. A closer look revealed a wolf resembling a lapdog squatting beside Master Dongguo.

Surveying his followers, Sun Licheng felt despair. They were the most tragic figures from various fairy tales—none of them remotely powerful.

“Is everyone here?” he asked hopefully.

“Sire, Pinocchio, fifth-in-command, is holding the front.”

Little Red Riding Hood replied.

“What about the fourth-in-command?” Sun Licheng asked anxiously.

“Snow White married off.”

Hearing this, Sun Licheng nearly spat blood.

“This is a bunch of losers!” he cried in agony.

Outside, the sounds of battle drew closer. In a panic, Sun Licheng snatched up his weapon—a battered broadsword about seventy centimeters long—and hurried out.

The stronghold was built against the mountain, vast, centered around a plaza. Countless little monsters scurried about, while behind them, three figures clad in heavy iron armor swung two-meter-long swords, hacking at anything in reach.

At that moment, a fish-headed creature rushed over, calling, “Sire, Benbo Ba is dead. Sire, you must avenge him!”

Sun Licheng was stunned. “You’re Ba Bo Ben?” The creature nodded vigorously.

Suddenly, cries and sobs echoed. Sun Licheng saw a group of mice in checkered T-shirts, clutching daggers, retreating.

“Who are they?” Sun Licheng grabbed Master Dongguo and demanded sternly.

“They’re under One-Ear,” replied Master Dongguo crisply.

“And where’s One-Ear?” Sun Licheng pressed.

“One-Ear didn’t think much of our little stronghold, so he moved to the big city for a better life,” Master Dongguo said, lips curling in resignation. If he could, he wouldn’t stay in this dump either.

Sun Licheng was at a loss.

Just then, Ba Bo Ben rolled his eyes and collapsed, and the surrounding monsters scattered.

Before Sun Licheng could react, a giant iron-clad warrior appeared before him, sword raised.

He glanced at his measly broadsword, then at the opponent’s enormous blade—three times as long. Without hesitation, he turned and ran. Only a fool would fight with such a disadvantage.

“Sire has fled!”

With a shrill scream, the stronghold’s monsters descended into utter chaos.

“Sire has run, everyone flee!”

Sun Licheng could barely make out Little Red Riding Hood’s piercing voice amid the pandemonium. The three iron giants ignored the crowd, pursuing him with all their might.

Sun Licheng felt as if his heart would burst, his lungs aflame.

“This is supposed to be a fairy tale world? This is a horror movie!” he cursed inwardly. Suddenly, inspiration struck.

“Grant me strength—I am He-Man!”

Sun Licheng stopped, raised his sword, and shouted. But... nothing happened.

“Damn!”

He cursed, ducked his head, and kept running.

Panicked, he didn’t realize he’d reached a dead end: a sheer cliff ahead; behind, the three iron giants barreling toward him, not a single monster ally in sight.

“What now? I don’t want to die!”

Sun Licheng was nearly in tears.

At that moment, a shooting star streaked across the sky.

“Let my cosmos explode!”

On a sudden impulse, Sun Licheng cried out. One must have dreams—what if they come true?

His wish was granted. He felt a transformation within—a surge of power flooded his limbs. A chiming sound echoed in his mind, followed by a synthesized voice: “Bronze Saint unlocked.”

“Damn, is this for real?”

Sun Licheng was stunned.

The three armored giants sensed danger, stopped, and pointed their massive swords at him.

“Pegasus Meteor Fist!”

Sun Licheng erupted in light, launching a thousand flashes at one iron giant. Amid countless clangs, the iron giant was blasted into the sky, its armor disintegrating midair, fragments falling like snow, and with a crash, it hit the ground in a cloud of dust.

The other two giants, shocked by the sudden turn, had no time to react before Sun Licheng unleashed a second move.

“Rozan Rising Dragon!”

With his shout, a dragon-like vortex swept another iron giant into the sky, which then dropped like a rag doll and lay still.

The third iron giant, seeing his comrades felled, lost all courage, turned, and fled.

Sun Licheng would not let him go. With a roar—“Pegasus Comet Fist!”—he struck with the signature move of the Pegasus constellation.

The last iron giant was knocked far afield, slammed hard against the ground, twitched a few times, then stilled.

“Sire is victorious! Minions, charge!”

Sun Licheng panted heavily, Little Red Riding Hood’s shrill voice ringing in his ears as countless monsters surged forth from every corner.

“Silver Saint unlocked!”

Before Sun Licheng could react, the synthesized voice echoed again in his mind.