Eldritch Horror Theatre

What an interesting method.

The power it contained wasn't particularly intense, but its tier was exceptionally high, almost as if custom-tailored to dismantle this very thing.

Of course, the visual effects were still somewhat intimidating. He wondered if Kelsen had secretly harbored a tiny bit of hope that he would stand up to dodge.

Now free from the Sunken Anchor's restraints, Fu Qian silently evaluated Old Man Kelsen's reaction.

The man had clearly chosen the route where harmony fosters wealth, decisively retracting the Sunken Anchor.

Truthfully, after Fu Qian had demonstrated his ability to violently shatter the restraints, Kelsen was left with two choices.

Taking the initiative to retract the Sunken Anchor to prevent it from being destroyed was naturally one.

But possessing the ability to destroy the relic was one thing; theoretically, executing it still required time.

A more radical approach would have been for Kelsen to go all out and attempt a kill while Fu Qian was still pinned down.

Even with Fu Qian bound, the demigod hadn't seemed confident enough to try.

"It's an honor to have such an exchange with Mister Lu, but I have matters to attend to. I'll take my leave first."

With a casual wave of his hand, the scattered Sunken Anchor flew into Kelsen's grasp as if pulled by a magnet.

Quickly stowing it away, the demigod stared expressionlessly at the figure on the Golden Seat.

Aside from that brief period when his mind had been compromised, he was by no means a good-tempered man.

From the moment he entered until now, he had entertained the thought of a massacre more than once, but ultimately forced himself to hold back.

The man in front of him was simply too hard to figure out!

He clearly could have left, yet he stayed, even actively stepping into the blessing.

And after entering, he hadn't taken a single action the entire time.

Furthermore, though Kelsen didn't know how he did it, the man clearly could have destroyed the Sunken Anchor much earlier. Yet, he had allowed the artifact to bind him, only to show off his ability to break it right to his face.

In a sense, this truly was a display of goodwill.

But the organization behind him, along with his past actions, made this goodwill difficult to interpret.

As a hunter hiding in the shadows of this incident, Kelsen vaguely felt like he had stumbled into a larger, untraceable trap.

Therefore, even though the man had explicitly stated that their goals conflicted, Kelsen still chose a more civilized method for this clash.

"Why don't we see who achieves their goal in the end?"

"Each relying on their own abilities? I like that."

Just as expected, the man on the Golden Seat agreed quite readily.

"Don't forget to use the front door."

At the very end, he even tossed out one last reminder.

...

With serpentine lightning coiling around him from head to toe, Kelsen didn't say another word. His body transformed into a streak of blue-white light.

However, unlike when he arrived, he really did choose to leave through the front door.

"Sitting in this seat isn't easy."

In the Great Hall, now completely returned to silence, Fu Qian looked at the devastation around him and let out a heavy, world-weary sigh.

The situation was gradually becoming clear. It looked like it was time for him to make his move.

The little shock he had just delivered to the demigod Kelsen would only buy that other guy a brief moment to catch his breath.

Even if he managed to temporarily shake off Gerald and his group to find a hiding place, leaving behind such an easily exposed trail meant that once Kelsen caught up, it would just be a countdown to death.

And judging by the time he entered this place, dawn was still a long way off.

Despite his lamentations, Fu Qian still didn't get up.

Taking action didn't necessarily mean he had to stand. Strategizing within the command tent wasn't just an empty phrase.

After turning weapons into peace with Kelsen, if that Oathbreaker truly had a grasp of the situation inside the blessing, he should know there weren't many places left for him to hide.

Considering he had just given Old Man Kelsen the opportunity to choose, Fu Qian decided to grant this person a few minutes to similarly make a choice regarding his own fate.

...

Wind!

Cold wind!

Inside the magnificent Great Hall, where cold drafts leaked in from all sides, Fu Qian lightly tapped his fingers against the seat beneath him.

Although the original layout had been completely destroyed by the lightning, it didn't stop him from imagining the grand spectacle of the past.

Facing thousands of believers, if it truly was a non-humanoid creature, in what posture would it have coiled atop this place?

This question hadn't lingered in his mind for more than three seconds before Fu Qian felt he had his answer.

Silently, crystalline, translucent wings appeared before his eyes—an absurdly exaggerated number of Soul Butterflies.

The fluttering One-Winged Butterflies didn't seem to harbor any offensive intent. Instead, they gathered on one side of the Golden Seat, circling and hovering according to a specific rhythm.

It was even faster than he had imagined.

Quite satisfied with this sudden anomaly, Fu Qian allowed them to continue, making no move to disturb them.

Their efficiency was quite high. In less than ten seconds, a distinct outline appeared on the other side of the seat.

It did look a bit like a dragon, though unfortunately, it was just a silhouette.

Fu Qian narrowed his eyes, examining it meticulously.

Matching his previous guess, the Soul Butterflies, now remaining relatively still, were genuinely acting as the dragon's scales to outline a massive body.

He could even make out a slender neck and a pair of peculiarly shaped wings.

However, the body was incomplete. Other than the scales, there was absolutely nothing, leaving infinite room for imagination.

Could this be how the Dragon God had revealed its true form back in the day?

Fu Qian felt a sudden flash of insight, and a moment later, he even praised it inwardly.

It was indeed a good idea!

As a Deity, after all, letting the believers fully gaze upon its true face would be somewhat lacking in solemnity.

Manifesting in this form not only maintained a sense of mystery, but actually amplified its imposing aura.

Even the Golden Seat beneath him demonstrated its significance at this moment.

Merely from the light filtering in from all sides, the "scales" of the illusory giant dragon were illuminated with a brilliant golden shine, creating a spectacular visual effect.

Of course, the bewitching effect was also vastly stronger than that of a single butterfly.

As he observed what could be the recreation of a divine miracle, Fu Qian marveled while simultaneously fighting off the blurring of his mind.

The scene he had seen in the Soul Butterfly's Reflection not long ago was now manifesting before his eyes once more in incredible clarity.

The three writhing fleshy worms looked increasingly hideous, and on the three faces that belonged to him, various expressions representing extreme emotions were portrayed to perfection.

Moreover, because he was somewhat overlapping with the Dragon God's remnant body, no matter which direction he looked, the multiple images overlapped, creating an effect akin to a shadowless lamp.

Naturally, these were all minor issues. Most importantly, after he once again suppressed the urge to yank the worms out with his own hands, an arm unexpectedly reached up into the Reflection before him.

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