Eldritch Horror Theatre

Fu Qian could roughly guess what Jacques meant by a simple treatment.

Jane's issues were not so easily resolved. After all, Jacques had exhausted his bag of tricks only to meet with constant setbacks; his latest move was clearly an attempt to take her back for help.

As a member of the Blood Clan, who prided themselves on elegance, reducing his own food to such a state was ultimately humiliating.

So in Fu Qian's eyes, this so-called treatment was highly likely just a cosmetic procedure—one that wouldn't take much time.

Jacques was merely feigning a relaxed tone. What he was truly waiting for was the carved giant Cocoon to fully secure its grip on his target.

The Cocoon was still steadily contracting, determined not to stop until it had completely crushed him to death.

What a pity that this beautiful expectation was doomed to remain unfulfilled.

Upon activating the Mark of Old Days and its fundamental property of a "wound," multiple gashes predictably materialized across Fu Qian's body, opening and snapping shut like the mouths of fish.

Naturally, having ascended to a False God, his flesh's enhanced vitality significantly boosted his healing speed. In practice, this meant those fish-like mouths opened and snapped shut much faster.

A minuscule crack appeared.

It wasn't the patterns themselves being severed, but the gaps between them.

It was like a dimensional discrepancy, introducing a slight mismatch as they swam and wove together.

...

Not bad at all.

Fu Qian wasn't surprised by this result. In fact, he was quite satisfied.

Before activating this gift from the Mad God, he had pondered the potential forms the "wound" might take.

When it came to the fundamental power of this world—the manifestation of commandments—he wasn't so optimistic as to believe the concept of a wound could infect them directly.

As it turned out, the wound indeed manifested in an entirely different manner.

Through that momentary fracture, Fu Qian even managed to catch sight of Jacques's movements.

The man was indeed earnestly tinkering with Jane's head, while the mutations across her body were rapidly transforming.

In the final moment of that fleeting glimpse, Jacques clearly sensed something and abruptly snapped his head up to look.

Unfortunately, the crack had already mimicked the fish-like gashes on Fu Qian's body, sealing shut in an instant.

But it didn't matter. New cracks quickly emerged, and in the blink of an eye, they were scattered like stars and chess pieces.

"How is this possible..."

Jacques let out an immediate cry of shock. Though he had likely used too many exclamations tonight and was running a bit short on vocabulary, his voice still clearly conveyed his absolute rejection of reality.

Unfortunately, reality did not bend to his will.

From the opening and closing gaps, icy fractures silently spiderwebbed outward, destabilizing everything.

The patterns weaving the giant Cocoon were equally targeted by this effect.

...

"You did quite well with the simple treatment. Leave the rest to me."

Without giving his opponent time to adjust his mood, Fu Qian casually took another step forward.

It was clear the carved giant Cocoon desperately wanted to pin him in place. However, as the flaws multiplied, its weave became far less secure. Not only had it almost entirely stopped contracting, but even its shape was beginning to distort.

Just like Jane's head a moment ago.

The reason it was a moment ago was because, through the snapping gaps, he could clearly see that her body's silhouette had almost entirely recovered.

Jacques's reconstructive efforts were remarkably swift.

But in contrast, the chaotic, tangled blood trails across Jane's skin had crept all the way up her face, making her look visibly worse than before.

Cosmetic procedures carry risks. That saying truly does not deceive me.

"Alright, if you are willing to answer my questions."

And this time, Jacques uncharacteristically deferred to the attending physician's opinion, not even attempting to flee with Jane.

"Oh, wouldn't that break your principles?"

Naturally gratified by this, Fu Qian took another step forward, stopping right at the edge of the Cocoon.

"While I'm not sure why you are here, if you wanted to kill her, you wouldn't have needed to wait until now. You are far more terrifying than I imagined."

Jacques actually offered genuine acknowledgment for the first time.

"This matter is indeed my fault. If you really have a way to treat her, I can give up taking her back."

"And then?"

Fu Qian remained completely impassive.

"And then... you have to come back with me."

Jacques's eyes flickered, but he answered anyway.

Now that was more like it.

The fact that this member of the Blood Clan was willing to abandon his patient was partly because, after their brief clash, he calculated the odds of Fu Qian meaning her harm were low. However, there was another glaring reason: the value of Fu Qian's case clearly eclipsed Jane's.

One possessed a physique that warped commandments, while the other possessed a physique that tore commandments apart.

In this Autumn of Many Troubles, the latter was undeniably far more striking.

Truthfully, Fu Qian wasn't opposed to exchanging ideas with a gathering of the Blood Clan. It was just that...

Fu Qian glanced up at the sky through the riddled gaps of the giant Cocoon.

"How long do you need to gather the others?"

"Not too long."

Given Fu Qian's astonishing display thus far, Jacques wasn't particularly surprised that the man instantly guessed his motives, quickly abandoning his earlier hesitation.

"Before dawn?"

"That won't work! They are all busy... with their own matters."

Jacques rejected the timeline immediately. He clearly possessed a profound understanding of his kin's habits, though he still made a slight effort to sugarcoat his response.

'I knew it.'

Fu Qian wasn't surprised in the slightest. After all, he had already speculated that they lived in isolation.

If he could engage the Blood Clan in a rigorous academic discussion, he wouldn't mind burning 1 SAN Value.

The problem was that even if he paid them a visit, by the time they all gathered together, he would be long gone.

"Then I'm afraid I am also very busy."

Fu Qian spoke with a tone of deep regret.

"So about how long do you need to gather people? Tell me the time and place, and I'll head over there myself when the time comes."

"That is truly a pity!"

Jacques naturally didn't believe a word of that. In fact, he would have found it bizarre if his opponent had actually agreed.

A split second later, a vibrant red, vine-like pattern bloomed from his hand. It was quickly followed by a second branch, then a third...

Within the span of a few breaths, the vines intertwined and braided themselves into a magnificent spear, aimed squarely at Fu Qian.

"Running into such a thing, it is absolutely impossible for me to let it go. Since Mr. Herbert is unwilling to cooperate, I can only try to take your remains back."

"Completely understandable."

Despite being hemmed in by the giant Cocoon with barely any room to dodge, Fu Qian displayed zero negative emotion toward Jacques's actions. He even offered a suggestion.

"However, why not finish asking your questions first before making a move?"

"...You are still willing to answer?"

Jacques, who had been winding up to hurl the spear, looked as if he had nearly sprained his back from the sheer whiplash.

"Why not? Didn't I agree to it earlier?"

Fu Qian sounded genuinely puzzled.

"...What exactly are you?"

At a total loss for words, Jacques braced himself, steadied the spear in his hand, and forced out the question.

"An apostle."

Unexpectedly, the man answered in total seriousness. He even tilted his head up toward the moon in the sky, sighing with profound emotion.

"A Dark Moon Apostle."

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