Eldritch Horror Theatre

Murderous intent descended from the heavens in a crushing stomp.

This entirely unexpected kick shattered not only that filthy body, but seemingly the vocal cords of every spectator as well.

The deep circular crater in the ground acted as a period, instantly silencing the screams sparked by the cascading mutations.

It even halted their breathing.

Even when Fu Qian pulled his bare foot out from the center of the crater, no one dared to take that first breath.

Those who had chosen to flee the Plaza during the earlier conflict froze in place. Not only did they not dare to keep running, they didn't even dare to turn around, terrified that any sudden movement would attract his gaze.

This posture spared them the fate of catching a face full of mud, leaving their backsides covered in it instead.

The oppressive silence lasted for nearly ten seconds. It wasn't until Fu Qian turned his back and climbed the steps of the Small Chapel one by one that the first person snapped out of it, frantically slapping at the fluid splattered across their body.

After all, there had already been two cautionary tales just moments ago. No one wanted a bite taken out of their own neck.

Grim and putrid, yet completely devoid of vitality. There was no sign of that devouring, writhing nature from before.

A single stomp, and it instantly lost all signs of life?

Realizing this, the audience couldn't help but stare again at that bare heel, as well as the pale, constantly fading cracks radiating from it.

Just who was this person...

Through their bewilderment, they easily recalled the words he had spoken while descending from the sky.

He had merely been sitting quietly watching the show, but because that thing expanded to the same height as him, he felt offended?

The reasoning was utterly eccentric, yet paired with his overwhelmingly domineering demeanor, it carried an inexplicable credibility.

...

Seeming to sense this collective gaze, the figure on the steps paused and slowly turned around.

"Looks like the tide is rising."

Fu Qian didn't pay any mind to the rest of the audience, however. Instead, he flashed a charlatan's smile and greeted the three members of The Order.

Because they were the closest, Amira and the other two had undoubtedly suffered the heaviest splatter.

But compared to the others, these three were far calmer.

Even Amira, who had nearly a hundred piercings all over her body, was in no hurry to clear the mud off herself.

It was obvious that, as professionals, they knew this substance had already lost its vitality.

Of course, because they weren't professional enough, they didn't know the loss of vitality was only temporary.

As the one who dealt the blow, Fu Qian could faintly sense that the power making the creature special hadn't suffered a true hit; rather, it was akin to having its gaze temporarily severed.

If these three were cautious enough, they still ought to clean themselves up a little.

But it wasn't a big problem. After all, The Order had everything under control.

Moreover, this Nightmare obviously wouldn't last much longer.

...

Faced with Fu Qian's greeting, the gazes cast over by The Order's team were highly complex.

At least Amira and Reginald were. As for the Hunter Simon, who only had his eyes exposed to begin with, his eyelids were completely plastered with mud, making it truly impossible for him to convey much emotional information.

"How did you do that?"

She could roughly understand that the mention of a rising tide referred to the Shadow surrounding the Small Town. But the non-combatant Amira was clearly still deeply affected by the battle just now, immediately fighting through the severe pain all over her body to ask the question.

She still possessed a discerning eye; that thing was obviously extremely troublesome even for Hunters, yet it had actually been annihilated in a single strike.

This young man named Anke, a Nightmare victim she had discovered, seemed to be growing increasingly unfamiliar, transforming step by step into something else entirely.

"My eyes have been opened."

Unfortunately, although he replied, his excessively charlatan-like tone, coupled with the act of pointing at his own eyes, left people momentarily unsure of how to respond.

"Excellency Simon looks even more unwell."

Fortunately, she didn't need to respond. A moment later, Fu Qian shifted targets, looking at Simon beside her.

...

Faced with Fu Qian's statement, Simon, the person in question, didn't reply. He merely lowered his head to look at the weapon in his hand.

However, this issue made both Amira's and Reginald's hearts skip a beat, recalling his identical assessment from earlier.

Following Simon's gaze, the two were shocked to discover that the black fluid on the Broadsword had, without anyone noticing, snaked upward onto the back of his hand and even vanished into his sleeve.

"Excellency Simon, quickly discard your weapon."

She hadn't expected the substance to be so pervasive. Amira felt a surge of panic, and worrying that he was reluctant to part with his beloved sword, she called out a loud warning.

Unfortunately, it seemed he truly was reluctant to part with it.

Despite her plea, Simon not only didn't glance up, he even gripped the sword in his hand tighter.

"Your observation is still too subjective."

Instead, the Dark Moon Seventh Apostle beside them offered a critique, sighing softly.

"Look carefully again. Does it really have anything to do with the sword?"

What did he mean?

Not only Amira, but Reginald was also briefly confused; readily accepting good advice, they looked over once more.

Wait... the direction was wrong!

That stuff didn't seem to be flowing into his sleeve, but rather flowing backward out of it!

In the next second, both of them suffered a massive shock, realizing the presumptive oversight they had just made.

"Excellency Simon..."

Staring at the Hunter's sword-gripping hand, Amira scarcely dared to imagine the sight underneath.

How could this happen? His body had actually already undergone a mutation!

"How are you feeling, excellency Simon?"

At the same time, the voice of concern rang out again.

Although it was hard to rule out the suspicion that he was gloating, the Dark Moon Apostle's tone actually sounded quite earnest.

"Not good."

Faced with these repeated inquiries, Simon finally raised his head and admitted the problem in a cold tone.

"That's good, then."

Fu Qian nodded, expressing his gratification that yet another hypothesis had been confirmed.

Hunters truly were a susceptible demographic.

Reginald, beside him, had been the target of a direct attack, and even after both sides had suffered heavily, no abnormality could be seen in him yet.

Conversely, Simon, who had no physical contact throughout the entire process, manifested such a glaring mutation.

Aside from an automatic mirrored gathering of the surrounding pollution, it was hard to find any other fitting reason.

The anomaly he experienced after slaying that blood sausage earlier was the exact same situation.

This chaotic Nightmare exerted far too much pressure on the constitutions of Hunters.

"Anke, what do you want to do?"

Before Fu Qian could speak again, his expression had already made Amira endlessly nervous.

It couldn't be helped. This abnormal commentary, paired with that smiling face, simply made it far too easy to associate him with that furious stomp from earlier.

"Don't be nervous."

Fu Qian waved his hand, signaling for Amira not to swing from one extreme to another, from taking things for granted to overthinking them.

"How am I feeling?"

The next moment, he pointed to himself and asked a strange question.

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