Eldritch Horror Theatre

In the Town Square, the Celestial Sphere Cult once again displayed the righteous bearing of a prestigious order.

Following Fu Qian's warning, Amira and the others looked toward the Small Chapel, their expressions turning grim.

They clearly felt a pang of guilt at the prospect of interrupting someone's morning slumber.

But orders were orders. The three of them quickly exchanged glances.

"Let's go in and take a look."

Simon, the most emotionally stable of the group, announced the final decision. Naturally, his eyes remained fixed on Fu Qian as he spoke.

The hunter clearly hadn't let the strange situation distract him from his mission, maintaining the strict vigilance of a prison escort.

"Sure. That sound even feels a little familiar to me."

Fu Qian didn't mind at all and readily agreed.

Unfortunately, she seemed rather socially anxious. Without even raising her head, she simply reached out her left hand and offered Fu Qian a handful of peas, as if asking if he wanted a bite.

Having already eaten breakfast, Fu Qian politely declined. He then cast an inquiring look at his three teammates.

Unsurprisingly, he was turned down as well. Amira's expression, in particular, was beyond description.

Evidently, they were used to a life of luxury and were quite picky about their morning meals.

Shaking his head in pity, Fu Qian placed his hand on the Small Chapel's intricately carved doors and gave them a gentle push.

They weren't locked, but they wouldn't open either.

Simon and the other two had clearly been watching his every move and naturally noticed this.

So when Fu Qian raised his hand to knock, Amira immediately grabbed his arm to stop him.

Off to the side, Simon raised his Broadsword once again.

Lead Flame flared to life. Amira pulled Fu Qian aside as Simon stepped forward in silence, aiming his weapon at the doors.

Creak—

Yet in the very next moment, accompanied by a faint scraping sound, the doors swung open a crack entirely on their own.

More than that, the eerie chanting suddenly stopped.

Clearly, this was a much more efficient way to wake someone up.

Marveling at the result, Fu Qian didn't wait for any prompting. He stepped right up and pushed the doors wide open.

Gasp!

Sharp intakes of breath sounded from behind him almost simultaneously.

...

The Church wasn't particularly large, and its layout was simple enough to take in at a glance.

Empty and dead silent, the space beneath the rather exquisite pulpit was a chaotic mess of overturned tables and chairs.

But that didn't mean there was no audience.

Shifting his gaze upward, Fu Qian saw someone lying diagonally in midair right above the massive Emblem of the Celestial Sphere Cult.

Indeed, without any visible means of support, the person was simply resting there in an incredibly peculiar posture, looking like they were still fast asleep.

One piece of evidence for this assumption was that the individual hadn't even gotten dressed yet.

In fact, over a dozen other people—some fat, some thin, men and women alike—were sprawled out in midair around him in the exact same pose.

With every breath they took, their bodies bobbed gently up and down.

What a seemingly familiar sight!

Fu Qian sighed, purposefully softening his footsteps as he walked into the Church.

Once upon a time, he had witnessed a similar scene in a place called the Old City.

Even then, he had been part of a team and had similarly pushed open the doors to an Underground vault.

To be fair, that previous scene had been even more of an eyesore.

"What is going on here!"

The next second, Amira became their first impolite guest, letting out a sigh of sheer incomprehension.

"So, what does Excellency Prout look like?"

Fu Qian raised a finger to his lips in a shushing gesture, leading by example as he asked the question in a hushed tone.

As he spoke, he studied the faces of everyone floating in the air one by one, ready to match them against whatever answer he received.

...

Unfortunately, between the shocking sight before her and Fu Qian's question, the impact on Amira seemed to overload her senses.

She stared blankly at him, unable to formulate a response for a moment.

"Excellency Prout isn't among them."

Simon spoke in her stead, dropping into a highly defensive stance.

"...Judging by the clothes on the floor, these are the town's residents, along with a few apprentice members. They must have been the ones making those sounds."

Reginald concluded after carefully inspecting the ground. His expression was exceptionally grim as well.

"It's incomprehensible. What exactly happened here, and where did Excellency Prout go?"

...

This was clearly a profound question. Neither Simon nor Amira, who had just snapped back to reality, had an answer.

"Why don't we just ask them?"

Fu Qian enthusiastically offered the suggestion from the side.

"According to Amira, Excellency Prout has been stationed here for a long time. The residents should all recognize him."

Are you serious?

This suggestion successfully earned him two looks of sheer disbelief, both laced with deep concern for his mental state.

However, Fu Qian remained completely oblivious. A second later, his gaze locked onto a body floating near the very top of the vaulted ceiling.

Back in the Old City, he had ultimately tracked down an elegant lady and engaged in a friendly, frank exchange. It seemed things were playing out much the same way this time.

"Hi!"

Without bothering to lower his voice, Fu Qian waved at the face concealed beneath long hair.

A ripple of commotion stirred through the air. That single shout seemed to have finally disturbed their sweet dreams, and every floating face slowly turned toward the group.

The panting that had grown faint earlier ceased altogether.

...

Sadly, after about five seconds of dead silence, the response Fu Qian received was an eerie chant far more piercing than before.

Even the bizarre panting pitched an octave higher. Driven by a maddening infectiousness, it made an itch sprout from the very marrow of their bones.

Of course, that was just what Fu Qian observed in his teammates. As for himself, the psychological attack still lacked a bit of punch.

At the same time, he made another observation. The ones singing with their eyes closed were the others; the panting was indeed coming from beneath the long hair of the woman he had just greeted.

"There are invisible things entwining their bodies, and it seems to be affecting their mental state too. It's very danger—"

Reginald didn't even get to finish his sentence before his gaze suddenly froze.

After taking a good look around, the Dark Moon Apostle had lightly leaped up, grabbed a nearby pillar, and used it to nimbly vault even higher into the air, seemingly completely deaf to the warning.

...Was this guy seriously going up there to ask for directions?

Amira noticed it too. Stunned speechless, glowing lines flashed across her body.

Her stress-induced shield had barely flared to life around her when the volunteer scout reached his target, grabbing a corner of the vaulted ceiling to hang suspended in midair.

"Hello there, ma'am. Do you have a moment?"

His voice echoed down through the disturbed panting.

"I'd like to speak to you about our Pope and savior, the great Dark Moon."

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