Eldritch Horror Theatre

Is this the Outcast Clan? The sample size has certainly spiked.

Sitting inside the Church, Fu Qian naturally took in the bountiful harvest outside.

He had also caught Simon's assessment.

While he agreed with the other's opinion, it took him only half a second to form his own evaluation of the scene: it didn't challenge the imagination, but it certainly tested the vagus nerve.

A single glance at the area directly ahead revealed a nearly double-digit number of discarded pieces, and not a single one possessed a remotely natural outline.

Tentacles, razor-sharp fangs, jagged horns, and even seductive, shifting engravings on carapaces... Bizarre biological forms and purely abstract concepts were fused together with zero finesse.

It had the chaotic inclusivity of a hotpot base.

Unfortunately, the recipe was utterly atrocious. It wasn't just an eyesore; it was enough to trigger physical stomach spasms.

If this was the sight that greeted the Witch the moment she was born, her conclusion that this was the apocalypse made perfect sense.

With the Resplendent Tyrant tearing at it, Fu Qian could clearly feel it teetering on the brink.

This scene before him was likely the final dance orchestrated by the members of The Order, having weighed their options and released some kind of restriction.

He had to admit, they were being incredibly cooperative.

After all, this Small Chapel was clearly the highest vantage point in the center of the Small Town.

Now was the perfect time to preach the Dark Moon Gospel.

...

Down on the Plaza, having finally processed what they were looking at, people were already screaming at the sight of the abundant local produce in the distance.

Ugh...

Naturally, there were also those whose vagus nerves failed the test; their stomach contents spewed out in projectile fashion, providing rock-solid proof for Fu Qian's assessment.

Yet even so, the vast majority of the people in the Plaza didn't scatter in blind panic.

After all, a very simple question lay before them: where could they run?

Anyone with a shred of sense could tell that their current position was already relatively safe.

The only place more suitable for taking shelter was likely the Church right behind them.

The main problem was the one inside, who felt just as terrifying... but who had just extended an invitation.

For a moment, more than one person stole glances toward the Church doors, Amira included.

"Should we go in?"

Gesturing toward the doors with a glance, she directly asked her two fellow members for their opinions.

"Is there a need? How much of a difference could there really be between out here and inside?"

Reginald immediately furrowed his brow.

"Besides, wasn't our plan to confirm the nature of the fog?"

"But that guy mentioned a tide earlier,"

Amira replied quickly, shaking her head slightly.

"Since there's no major difference between out here and inside, we can just observe both things at once—even his reaction to the tide."

Now that she mentioned it... that guy really had spoken of a rising tide just moments ago.

Though he really didn't want to deal with the madman inside the Church, Reginald wasn't one to ignore the facts. Prompted by Amira's reminder, he instantly recalled the brief exchange right after that deadly aura had descended from the sky.

"I didn't catch the significance of that at the time."

He instinctively looked to Simon for his input. The hunter just nodded, confirming that the man inside had sensed the anomaly long before he had.

Without another word, the hunter turned and strode straight toward the Small Chapel.

"We go in."

Seeing Simon so resolute, Reginald yielded to the group's consensus and signaled for Amira to give him a hand.

→

Given the identities of these three, their actions naturally carried a lot of influence.

Watching them march up the steps, the crowd's internal debate tipped almost instantly.

Ah—

At almost the exact same time, screams tore through the distance.

Following the noise, they saw multiple silhouettes sprinting madly in their direction from the area that had just been washed over by the fog.

The reason for their synchronized flight was obvious at a glance: the receding thick fog had surged back and was now chasing them at an even greater speed.

Wishful thinking was human nature, after all. When the fog tide receded moments ago, it had sparked the beautiful hope that the crisis was over.

Unfortunately, the thick fog acted like a true tide, swiftly surging back at an even higher speed.

Among the fleeing survivors, one could clearly spot the police officer who had been standing guard earlier.

Driven by terror, he was sprinting at an impressive clip—until his path was blocked by a massive lump of a snail shell encrusted with fish scales.

More than one head darted out from within it, moving with a speed no snail could ever match.

Bang!

True to his training as a combatant, the terrified officer chose to attack in the face of this deeply shocking sight.

He was even armed with a weapon from The Order.

...

A tangled cluster of lightning erupted from the gun's comically large barrel.

It looked somewhat similar to the attack used by that naked, enlightened lady from The Order, just a bit pocket-sized in terms of power.

Watching this desperate struggle for survival within the Nightmare, Fu Qian silently offered his critique.

Compared to the potentially corrupted individuals in the Plaza, the officer clearly leaned closer to being a native creature of the Nightmare, something used to compose its basic order.

In essence, this raw desire to survive was far purer than that of the majority of the people flooding into the Church at this moment.

And because of his decisiveness, it seemed the officer's ultimately futile struggle had temporarily yielded excellent results.

Under the impact, the things jutting from the snail shell swayed wildly before actually retreating inside.

Dropping his gun to the ground, the officer didn't even think about reloading; he simply skirted around the monster and sprinted for his life.

Fortunately, he didn't encounter any further interception.

Even when his body was engulfed by the fog tide for the second time.

Amidst the increasingly clear sound of the wash, the thick fog had already covered nearly half the Small Town, closing in further on the Church.

By the time it receded again, the dazed officer realized he hadn't been devoured. Overjoyed, he locked his eyes on the Church's Spire and bolted once more.

In fact, the crowd in the Plaza in front of the Church had made the exact same choice.

Following behind Amira's trio, the crowd scrambled into the Church to seek shelter.

Ah—

However, barely half a second passed before someone spotted the scene on the dome and let out a scream.

Clearly, unlike Amira's trio, these people had absolutely no mental preparation for this sight.

For a moment, the crowd began to retreat almost faster than they had rushed in.

But at the same time, another wave of fog crashing in from outside instinctively kept them from retreating all the way back to the Plaza.

Ultimately, the Small Chapel serving as their sanctuary presented a bizarre scene: compared to the meager handful of people inside, a far greater number of gospel listeners stood on the front steps, staring in despair as the Small Town was swallowed wave by wave.

"Welcome."

Fu Qian wasn't about to force them. Pulling his gaze away, he offered a greeting to the three much more devout members of The Order.

"So, do you have any leads on where Excellency Prout went?"

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