1 Prologue

He swimmed through the fluffy realm while thinking how annoying his instincts can be, 'nothing suspicious my *ss, it's a whole new world, d*mmit', he thought while stopping to scan with his senses the place.

The first few hours were extremely fun but he's doing that for the past sixty hours already without a change in scenary, really stale and almost bored him to death, well, more dead-lier than now.

'What a truck of undead bullsh*t' he thought while observing how he doesn't needs to breathe at all and how quiet his body is, no annoying heartbeat and sound from other organs at all, 'at least I've got something nice out of it, it's quite nice not gonna lie'.

Even reading through the creepy book he got after dying didn't explain much, reading about how he's a [Strigoi] - some sort of undead, a ritually implemented failsafe and defensive reaction in blood by his ancestors that apparently loved experimenting and didn't liked dying very much, 'fair enough, their paranoia saved my life, I can respect that', he thought a bit amused with his situation.

It's a good thing that he could revive himself with enough time and dedication, the book specified what he needs to do, he just needs to absorb some ether from the space around him and deposit it in his [Strigoi] ability's core - the heart, which now refined itself with the suspiciously real looking heart from the altar that he touched earlier. He can feel how it slowly transformed itself, a bit uncomfortable but he isn't capable to scratch that particular itch, 'better than the annoying permament sound though' he thought.

Getting an inheritance was certainly not what he expected would be the reason he died.

'What a funny cause of death, hah' he chuckled ill-humoredly.

'Rashly touching things on that altar was a mist-take, I don't have the foggiest idea what's going on and it's clouding my mind, hah' he thought while making puns at the expense of the pink sea of clouds.

A neverending sea of clouds, he's grateful that he can't be sensed by the beings below, he can feel their bloodthirsty nature, his senses touched upon their massive forms, and he's constantly on edge even after exerting control upon the dream around with his own realm, a thing he instinctively did after appearing in the new realm.

'Getting my own dream more real was worth it, what a lucky streak' he thought pleased with himself.

It helped him suppressing his own presence, exerting some form of control around him and helping with swimming through them without expending his attention on the act. It was certainly useful, he got the time to read the book and find out what's going on with a simple exertion of will.

'I'm horny, dead and now I'm getting crazy, and I think this situation is better than being suppressed constantly and feeling foreign and not in my place. In this realm I feel more freedom and liberation than the past one would've allowed me for a lifetime' he grumpily pondered upon his own situation.

At least he found out that he got his own dream realm after just appearing in this one, apparently his lucid dreaming training paid off quite nicely, he can feel it anchored to his soul.

After being yeeted out of That being's dream because of a lot of consecutive rash an stupid decisions that were backed up by his instincts, a thing that he specialise in actually, he appeared inside what he's calling a [Dream Cluster] and if more specific in an unknown [Dream Realm] connected to this cluster,

While swimming around the tried to find a way out before he died of boredom or some spontaneous environmental change appeared out of the blue, better the later in his own opinion.

He got this information from the so called Grimoire that the [Dream-Walking] was a rare talent at the time it was recorded inside and his ancestors got lucky kidnapping and interrogating an advanced user that was tresspasing into their Ancestral Forest, walking into a dark druid's domain, the Forest, was certainly the smartest move the Dream Walker did in his lifetime, that was certainly a nice gift for his ancestors.

The essence of the [Dream Walker] was infused in evey spiritual artefact that they owned until his very existence ceased to exist, even with him being healed constantly, only his eternal core, the only part of a soul that's invincible and no one can interact with, departed from the altar chamber, 'what an idiot' he thought while shaking his head, ' he deserved what he got in the end, Ha' he concluded with schadenfreude.

Without a dream realm in his possesion - he would've been constantly attacked by [Nightmares] - a Dream's countermeasure to foreign beings, some sort of antibody reaction in his opinion.

Then he would've been used as some sort of snack or toy, depending of the source they appeared from, [Dream-walking] is extremely dangerous without owning a [Dream Realm] or having spiritual or dream spells/abilities or some advanced concealment abilities.

With him only being introduced to actual spells only after dying and through a book - not a real teacher, he profusely thanked his past self in his mind for having a controlling streak a mile wide that got under control even his dreams, 'now he at least I won't die twice in a row, which, admittedly, would've been certainly amusing but I'll pass' he convinced himself.

He'd seen already how colossal mountains blowed up into an everlasting pink and fluffy blanket, while he was falling from the purple sky attempting to assert some form of control over the realm around him, he even succeeded at it with the motivation of not becoming a pancake which really made him paranoid even more than he naturally was.

Even if such coincidences weren't at all something new with how his old world's suppression worked, 'but not on a natural disaster's scale, cmon' he thought displeasedly.

'I swear to get some sort of flying, even if I like pancakes but not on this level!!' he noted the thought down in his mind, seriously not liking the perspective of becoming flat.

He considered the instance of him himself becoming a cloud with the instant enviromental changes around, even if that sounds wonderful and better than a pancake, he does appreciate his own body and his daily life enough to not desire a spontaneous change.

He'll shelve that on his future self, in his Grimoire there was something on shapeshifting and having multiple forms.

'I'll get to become whatever the hell I want, even a fluffy cloud, while having the option to revert back to my original form, that's hella nice' he appreciated the thought immensely.

The sea of clouds made him really curious so he naturally decided to get a pièce of his own, a comfy cloudy blanket or pillow sounded highly appreciated by his tired mind.

He started by enveloping a part of the cloudy mass with his own energy derived from his realm, infused it with his own essence from his heart, infused it with his thoughts, and how was written in the [Dream-Walking] section - with his desire of flying, freedom and stability.

Condensed and shaped it into a comfy looking big pillow. Then animated and enchanted it with the spells [Animate] and [Enchant], that he picked up from his new Grimoire to check how the spells even work, and finished the work by connecting it to himself.

The pink fluffy mass under his influence begun to condense in the shape of a pillow the size of his body, then transformed into a cartoonish pink cloud then back into a pillow that was slowly floating in front of his face.

Now the fluffy thing is part of his own illusory dream realm, he can summon and unsummon it at will.

He's very proud of his own work, using his bloodthirsty's ancestors magic that summoned spirits and devils, daemons and apparitions while torturing them all for information and into obedience, to be the most comfortable he can be while adventuring, the thought of them rolling in their graves amuses him greatly.

Seeing how he got the hang on how to interact with the Dreams, he obviously stuffed a lot of clouds in his own realm to experiment later on it.

Dream materials, from what he did read, are very useful for getting new affinities, getting new spells and abilities or creating growth-type artefacts. Certainly an interesting niche for him to study and experiment in later when he's in a safe place.

He can't wait to get some free time to finally become a normal-ish mage, being suppressed to only internal energy control by his old world was certainly unamusing, even if he got very good at it in his humble opinion, he wanted to do something flamboyant! Something colorful and magical, something that is external and not some weird Qi sutra, he's fed up wih those already even if he's not bad at them.

After getting done with material colecting he activated his senses to maximum along with his insticts, 'the path out is near, I can feel it' he noted while readying himself.

Floating on his very nice pillow toward a red looking cloud patch he got excited, finally something different! He cautiously approached the crimson anomaluous area and started to observe every inch of land:

Red bloody clouds and a creepy skeleton, 'someone's reamains, great, it certainly made me more assured of me swimming earlier through those clouds, what a close call, darn it' he thought disgruntedly.

He's even smelling something, that's great, he thought this realm can't support some of his senses.

'This red patch of clouds is certainly weird, even by weird dreams standards, I'm not one to judge though, I'm not someone very experienced in dream structures.

It reeks of blood, calcium, vitality, concealing, animosity and strangely perception. It's surprising that the creatures below didn't devoured the remains, the being that died there did had probably some sort of camouflage ability that works even now.

How did I even found it though? Weird stuff, man.'

He stopped and scanned everything more closely, his instincts picked up a possible entrance to somewhere, a somewhat safe passage. He will deal with it later, first thinghs first - it's looting time.

He fished out the skeleton, it even got a pair of eyeballs in his skull and even a purple crystal heart, everything is intact at first glance and won't break at first touch.

So obviously the loot goes to his own realm, even if he has to strain himself a little to succeed. His soul reality is at the same level as the red clouds so straining a bit is understandable though not pleasant.

Loot is always fun to scavenge for in his opinion, 'this time it's even some cool looking remains of an unknown native humanoid.

I become a grave raider, how low can a looting addiction take someone? The answer for me is certainly 'not low enough', bruh'.

Just after he expropriated the free cloudy estate, the hole that got into its place sucked him in like a very experienced lady.

'Finally a change of scenary' he thought while a multitude of colors in the form of a wormhole sipped him all in.

His instincts didn't mind so it means he's safe for the time being.