Fu Qian had actually done something very simple just now—two consecutive Lucid Dreams.
The legendary Harmonic Sanctuary clearly lived up to its reputation. Compared to Amira and the others, the Sanctuary Madam escorting him was far sharper.
Once he confirmed she could detect even the slightest trace of a Blood Crusade activation, Fu Qian held off on rushing to use a Lucid Dream.
Naturally, he wasn't in a hurry to resort to violence, either.
He was attending a gathering full of distinguished guests. How could he display the majesty of the Dark Moon if he snuck in using such simple, crude methods?
In the end, his cooperation lasted all the way to the containment cell.
The moment the Sanctuary Madam finished her mockery and sealed the door shut, Fu Qian took advantage of her momentary satisfaction and relief, silently inviting her into a dream.
The rule to end the dream was also very simple: she just had to believe the person inside the cell was already gone.
...
It took less than a minute. Without even needing to search for a logical explanation, the Sanctuary Madam already believed this conclusion.
Upon returning from the dream, she undoubtedly rushed to open the door and check.
What greeted her was a face full of Commandment Residue, along with another Lucid Dream triggered by the sudden impact.
With her guard up, the difficulty of pulling her into a dream would naturally increase. Therefore, Fu Qian used a classic combination: lowering her intellect and putting her to sleep.
And with the previous setup, the visual shock of the Commandment Residue wouldn't seem so abrupt.
Fu Qian didn't even set an overly difficult end rule for her, maximizing the approach of silently nourishing all things.
The final result was that the Sanctuary Madam personally opened the cage cast from Law she had just locked, releasing the Dark Moon Apostle who walked through Nightmares.
...
When Fu Qian stepped onto the first stair, the Sanctuary Madam returned to reality for the second time.
Without disappointing him, she indeed maintained a certain degree of elegance.
She neither screamed in panic nor searched frantically.
After freezing for a few seconds, she gritted her teeth, "locked" the door properly, and sprinted away like a gust of wind.
Her response was undoubtedly rational. How could a character who managed to slip away right under her nose be found through a blind search?
Locking the door to prevent the minute possibility of being tricked, then heading directly to notify the person in charge, was the safest and most efficient response.
It also showed the courage to take responsibility.
She truly possessed the demeanor of an orthodox faction.
While silently praising her, Fu Qian walked up the stairs with an equally imposing demeanor.
The wooden stairs, having weathered countless years, made absolutely no sound beneath his feet.
With every step he took, his body and face quietly changed.
Crimson eyes and pale skin. By the time he finished walking up this flight of stairs, Fu Qian had completely taken on the appearance of Herbert.
Without breaking his stride, he silently reached out, pulled down a night-sky-colored curtain, tied a casual knot, and draped it over his body.
On one hand, Herbert was much taller, making Anke's formal suit no longer a good fit.
On the other hand, the very next moment, Fu Qian's body suddenly expanded as Resplendent Tyrant was activated.
...
For a brief moment, the carpet beneath his feet seemed to grow even softer.
Sensing this change, Fu Qian didn't even glance down. He simply adjusted the makeshift cloak and, without altering his rhythm in the slightest, stepped onto yet another flight of stairs and continued upward.
The building was old, but it was incredibly tall.
As he ascended, the surroundings grew increasingly silent.
But this didn't mean it was harder to be discovered.
For the believers of the Stars, the higher parts of the Church clearly symbolized the nobility of contacting the Stars. Therefore, the scarce few human traces he sensed clearly belonged to entities on the same level as the Sanctuary Madam.
So, the area he was currently passing through could actually be considered forbidden grounds of The Order.
And even if he remained unnoticed for now, once the news of the important prisoner's disappearance was reported, they would join the others in tightly cordoning off this building, making the trip back down much more troublesome.
But that didn't matter.
The night of the full moon, at the summit of the Holy Temple.
Fu Qian was quite confident in his judgment regarding the meeting location.
The tastes of that group of self-important giant bats were simply too easy to deduce.
Aside from standing atop the highest peak, what other place could give them the thrill of feeling that all living beings are mere ants?
The increasingly soft carpet seemed to prove this point as well.
Stepping onto another stair, Fu Qian looked at the figure standing not far away in the Corridor.
...
"Herbert?"
A face full of wrinkles, dressed in casual clothes, yet wearing a uniquely styled hat.
The man standing there silently was arguably the oldest member of The Order he had seen so far.
He also appeared to be the wisest, actually opening his mouth to call out his name directly.
The door next to him was left ajar; this man had just come out from inside.
He had even been there for a while. Back when Fu Qian was still on the floor below, this man seemed to have foreseen his arrival, walking out to wait quietly.
"A pleasure to meet you."
Being blocked without warning and having his identity exposed right away, any other infiltrator would have likely triggered their emergency plans and retreated immediately.
However, Fu Qian greeted him with a smile, his footsteps showing not the slightest hesitation.
Naturally, they didn't speed up, either.
As a Dark Moon Apostle, even when en route to a banquet, how could he rush in a flurry and disregard his composure?
Though he didn't say much, this reaction made his stance distinctly clear.
So much so that when the tall-hatted elder opened his mouth again, it wasn't to call out to anyone, but to spit out one giant dandelion after another.
Indeed, that was the most fitting description Fu Qian could think of.
Entirely blood-red, with their tails all connected to a slender stalk. Resembling both a pattern and a natural organism, they were clusters of thorns bundled together according to some special rule.
The spikes arranged in a sphere on the outermost layer were obviously extremely sharp, and blood was even dripping from them—his own blood.
Given that they were forcibly squeezed out of his throat, one could even see the mangled, riddled wounds plowed into his mouth.
And this brutal creation, swaying through the air just like dandelions as its stalks extended and twisted, surged forward in a dense swarm.
If Fu Qian didn't stop, he would inevitably crash headfirst into it.
And he could sense that they weren't simple needles; ordinary physical resistance would likely be utterly meaningless.
Fu Qian did not stop.
Closing in steadily, he merely untied his cloak and casually tossed it into midair.
His right sleeve, which could already be called ragged, was completely ripped apart the very next moment. A giant spiked arm, clustered with countless freezing crystals, punched straight through the thicket of thorns and tore apart half of the tall-hatted elder's body.
This was the result of the elder doing everything in his power to dodge while hanging by a single hair.
Aside from saving his own life, the other change it brought about was that the cluster of thorns originally under his control regressed and dissipated before it could even touch Fu Qian.
As Fu Qian casually caught the falling cloak, the elder, who had barely managed to stabilize himself, actually didn't launch a new attack. Instead, his ruined throat convulsed as he let out a beast-like wail.
Calling for backup? Very decisive.
In admiration, Fu Qian simultaneously opened his mouth and unleashed an even more berserk gospel.
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