Eldritch Horror Theatre

Even sitting within the Cocoon to gaze at the sky, his glorious bearing was impossible to conceal.

Although the moon above wasn't dark, the sight of Fu Qian standing with his hands clasped behind his back, gazing up at the starry sky, left Jacques entirely unable to voice his doubts.

"A personified Deity with the Dark Moon as its symbol?"

After a moment of mental adjustment, he finally steadied his emotions and asked.

"I know what you want to say. To you, that is practically synonymous with pollution, isn't it?"

Fu Qian shook his head slightly.

"Personality is so unstable, difficult to define, and insufficiently transcendent. It is nowhere near as orderly and correct as a commandment, and is thus destined to represent confinement and chaos."

...

Jacques clearly hadn't expected him to answer with such sincerity, and fell silent for a moment.

"I have no intention of arguing this with you. Telling you how beautiful and lofty the Dark Moon Pope is would be completely meaningless. I only want to say one thing."

Fu Qian gazed at Jacques and the long spear in his hand.

"Are you ready? Face the depravity and pollution of your imagination—now."

Fu Qian took another step forward.

Standing practically flush against the ornately carved Cocoon, he inevitably came into direct contact with the manifestation of the "Dead End" blocking his way, resting his hand against it.

Sure enough, it was a seemingly familiar sensation.

The seemingly thin and fragile giant Cocoon did not budge an inch, interpreting No Passage with absolute, unwavering resolve.

It was exactly like the scene of first meeting the assassin from the Academy all those years ago.

Yes, it was the exact same feeling as touching the Angel of Comfort.

Back then, even a full-strength strike from Peak Tier 4 Li Weixuan couldn't shake it in the slightest. Now, touching it as a mere Tier 2, he felt exactly the same way—like he was facing a Wall of Sighs.

Of course, that did not mean it was completely impossible to break through with brute force.

After all, his honorific name was the King of the Abandoned Prison.

If he were willing to pay the price and transform into his Mythical Form, pitting a mechanical old god against the Wall of Sighs might just be worth a try.

However, that would be far too likely to frighten the children outside, and it didn't quite suit his image as the Dark Moon Pope.

It was better to use a gentler approach.

...

"How exactly did you do that?"

Of course, not everyone could appreciate his gentleness.

A moment later, Jacques's voice rang out. He tried hard to suppress his emotions, but he still could not hide his terror.

The reason was simple. Following that intimate contact, cold cracks had begun climbing across No Passage, centering on the spot where Fu Qian had pressed his left hand and continuously spreading outward.

Most of them vanished and dissipated as they flickered, but a small fraction remained behind permanently.

In fact, this scene had been playing out for a while now, just nowhere near as vividly and intensely as the current spectacle.

"Didn't you already know the answer?" Fu Qian asked. "Could it be that just because the pollution is too strong, it ceases to be pollution?"

Facing the question from the Children of the Stars, Fu Qian offered a ruthless reminder.

"Of course, if you insist on finding a more comforting name for it, I completely understand. After all, you will have to learn to coexist with the sight before you in the days to come."

"You are entirely different from those scattered fragments of pollution. You come from a Nightmare."

It turned out that Brother Jacques still had some pride left in him after all, as he actually abandoned his attempts to sugarcoat reality.

Not only that, but he also provided a highly valuable piece of information—the Nightmares that had been invading in droves recently were considered far more formidable than the sporadically appearing oddities, like Harriet.

This was exactly what he wanted.

"Is it possible that you are the ones who actually came from a Nightmare?"

Playing along was an art form in itself. Instead of bluntly shouting out "Congratulations, you guessed right" or anything of the sort, Fu Qian simply let out a sigh, lamenting that all are drunk while I alone am sober.

"Since your supreme correctness doesn't seem quite so absolute, what other reason do you have to be so certain of your own state?"

"Is it possible that your true bodies are swimming the butterfly stroke in a cesspit somewhere right now, and I have come precisely for your redemption? Child of Nightmare?"

"You... bastard!"

The proud heart of the Blood Clan clearly could not accept such heretical words.

"You still want to use this kind of cognitive chaos to pollute me? The Blood Clan is far beyond what your shallow mind can imagine."

Jacques ground his teeth in an unsurprising display of anger, no longer questioning whether the other man had come from a Nightmare.

"Do you think my clansmen just idle their days away in hedonism? So far, every Nightmare that has appeared in Laerdin has already been explored by us. Obviously, none of them contained any mention of a Dark Moon Pope... The fact that you would casually fabricate the name of the very entity you worship proves you are truly worthy of being called blasphemous."

"Speak. The entity that granted you this boon—what exactly is its name?"

"Surrounded by the Seven Lights amidst an endless blizzard. You could have just asked me directly instead of beating around the bush."

Unfortunately for him, the only response he received was Fu Qian's disdainful smile.

"A blizzard... the Seven Lights..."

As he muttered to himself, Jacques's eyes flickered uncontrollably, as though he had just realized something.

"That Painting World?"

Considering the sheer number of victims the Painting World had claimed in Laerdin, the concept of the Seven Lights was clearly not a closely guarded secret.

It turned out he hadn't been boasting earlier; the Blood Clan really did have a firm grasp of the situation. He immediately guessed the location being alluded to, saving Fu Qian's painstaking efforts from going to waste.

Indeed, if he had truly wanted to hide it, he simply wouldn't have said anything at all.

They were the aloof Children of the Stars, the purest manifestation of the world's primordial power. How could he possibly pass up the chance to use them?

In fact, this could be considered the greatest unexpected harvest of tonight's mission.

The second greatest, naturally, was the arrival of The Order.

"Perhaps? And that seems like good news for you, seeing as that place doesn't even appear to qualify as a Nightmare."

Fu Qian's smile was incredibly punchable.

"You are more than welcome to try your luck. Just remember to pass on my regards when you see the Pope."

"As for right now, we seem to have strayed a bit too far off topic. Let's get back to the patient."

"You must explain everything clearly today. This is your only chance."

Absolutely refusing to let the topic be derailed again, Jacques pointed his long spear right back at Fu Qian and spoke in a sinister tone.

"It certainly looks quite nice. Let me think, is this also one of the most classic and lofty boons of a commandment?"

As if he were being directly stared down by Death itself, Fu Qian examined the murder weapon in his opponent's hand with keen interest.

"That's right, the Spear of Fatal Death. Any target struck by it will face a death that cannot be evaded by any means. And unlike an Untouchable, only a very small fraction of the Blood Clan is capable of mastering it."

"Care to see if you can pollute it as well? Oh, I forgot—your pollution still needs quite some time to penetrate the barrier—"

Jacques's mockery came to an abrupt halt.

In his line of sight, the Thug trapped inside the Cocoon silently extended his right hand, inserting it into a gap in the giant Cocoon that resembled a fish's mouth.

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