Eldritch Horror Theatre

"Are you sure this is necessary?"

Examining the third Sacred Relic, Fu Qian asked casually.

It was about the length of a forearm. Its jagged body was entirely grayish-black, save for a single bright white line along the edge of the blade that extended all the way to a sharp, upturned tip.

The blade and hilt formed a seamless whole. It looked almost as if Turbulence had condensed over it, but a closer look revealed a stark difference—it resembled a piece of bone soaked black in sewage.

The weapon exuded a twisted sublimity he had never seen before; Fu Qian had absolutely no doubts about its lethality.

"No matter how you look at it, you hold all the cards. All you have to do is wait. The moment I lose my balance even a little bit, you win."

"You even said it yourself just a moment ago—the outcome is already set in stone."

"That is a fact. From the moment you swallowed the fragment that belonged to me, you lost any chance of breaking free."

In response to Fu Qian's confusion, the Proxy maintained his excellent habit of answering every question posed to him.

"But the process is not guaranteed. Considering you have displayed an unreasonable amount of stubbornness—even after swallowing a second portion of a Deity's power—I need to accelerate this process."

"But don't worry. I'm not going to raise this weapon, walk over there, and plunge it into your heart."

Before he even finished speaking, the Proxy turned the weapon around and plunged it directly into his own chest.

"To break down your stubbornness at a faster pace, I need to introduce a much stronger sensation."

The blade buried in his chest didn't affect his ability to speak in the slightest. As he talked, he slowly twisted his arm, cutting a curving arc into his own chest.

This was completely different from earlier, when his wound had healed the instant he drew the blade.

The edges of this smooth cut were stained with the same hue as the blade, transforming into a state that resembled glazed glass.

The Proxy didn't stop there. He dragged the short blade further down, carving one arc after another into his torso, as if sculpting a suit of scale armor directly into his own flesh.

"Do you feel it? Our pain."

...

That went without saying.

Even though merely looking down had become exceptionally strenuous, Fu Qian was acutely aware that his own hand was making the exact same motions as the Proxy, despite holding no blade.

Even more bizarre was the fact that, despite his empty hands, he could feel his own chest being sliced open, piece by piece.

Relying on sensation alone, he couldn't even determine if this agony—which far exceeded the pain of mere physical laceration—was a mirrored projection from the body standing opposite him, or if his own chest was genuinely being carved apart.

It was a very clever tactic. The Proxy truly didn't need to step over and stab him.

The nature of his opponent's actions was simple: introduce an exaggerated level of stimulation to destroy the fragile balance Fu Qian was fighting so hard to maintain.

His condition was already teetering on the edge of collapse. The slightest ripple in his senses could trigger a monstrous tidal wave, washing away the very boundaries of his self-awareness.

Now, the Proxy was directly summoning that tidal wave.

Not only was this a sapient will, it was also one that despised wasting time. This mission target was turning out to be quite interesting.

Furthermore, he had to admit—even if this guy was just a Proxy, the level of power backing him was absurdly high.

The nature of this blade was akin to the impurities mixed within the Proxy's body, yet it was actually capable of something to this extent.

"Of course. So you knew all along that I would swallow that fish?"

Yet, even in the face of absolute despair, and even as his voice twisted to sound almost exactly like the Proxy's, Fu Qian stayed true to his excellent habit of being clever and fond of learning.

"I did not know. Not even about the initial fragment."

The Proxy clearly noticed Fu Qian's altered pronunciation and even seemed gratified by it. He showed this by responding with a trace of Fu Qian's own intonation, blurring the lines between their voices until they were nearly identical.

"You are highly perceptive, yet cold-blooded and cruel. After I failed to imprison you using my power, I originally hadn't planned on doing anything more to you. It's just a pity you couldn't control your own madness. To think you actually dared to try and digest a Deity's authority."

'So it really was your doing.' He had wondered why his opponent opened with such an insanely exaggerated killing strike, only to fall back on far more conventional tactics afterward.

Even fully aware that the Proxy's words were just another method to accelerate his mental collapse, Fu Qian still listened with quiet admiration.

'Truly decisive.'

The moment the Proxy realized Fu Qian's threat level had skyrocketed, he immediately abandoned any further entanglement.

"You have no understanding of their relationship to me—neither the fragment, nor the fish you swallowed."

"Did you assume that because the two powers felt distinctly different, consuming the second wouldn't bring about the same negative effects as the first?"

"It's quite a pity. I am the perfect fusion of the Deities' authority. In essence, every shred of that power is 'me'."

"And, naturally, very soon you will be as well."

"Perfect, indeed."

Gazing at the chaotic mess exposed beneath the carved scale armor, Fu Qian sincerely acknowledged the Proxy's fusion abilities, all while deeply aware that his own 'self' was teetering on the edge of death.

His Pseudo-God Incarnation was nearly out of time. The moment it ended, his resistance would plummet, and he would be assimilated into this perfect fusion at an even faster rate.

"I am a bit curious, though. Don't these Deities mind? Are times so tough that they have to share a single Proxy?"

"And that memory Frankie shared earlier—that had to be real. What exactly caused it? I'm confident you know the answer to that."

Even in his current state, he refused to abandon his fine habit of unabashedly asking questions.

"I do know. Don't worry."

Fu Qian's posture of valuing Truth above his own life actually seemed to move the Proxy.

He demonstrated this by plunging the short blade even deeper as he answered, carving a horrifying horizontal gash across his own abdomen.

"Very soon, 'our' curiosity will be satisfied all on its own."

With both of them racing toward the same endpoint, the Proxy's voice had become utterly identical to Fu Qian's.

...

'So this delightful conversation has reached its end for now.'

Fu Qian completely understood the meaning behind his opponent's words. At the same time, he braced against the tsunami of agony brought on by the devastating phantom wounds.

"Alright."

The next moment, he gave a simple response and completely abandoned his resistance.

The sense of self he had been so desperately fighting to maintain instantly shattered. The vast majority of his body, in the truest sense of the word, no longer belonged to him.

He didn't even wait for the Pseudo-God Incarnation to expire.

"Greedy and mad, just as expected—"

But the next moment, the voice echoing within his consciousness—and the thrill of victory accompanying it—came to an abrupt halt.

It was instantly replaced by a soul-trembling terror.

"What is this?!"

And Fu Qian was absolutely certain that this panicked thought didn't belong to him.

The very same power that had been so eager to erode him just moments ago was now frantically scrambling to sever its connection to him, practically shoving his sense of self back into his own hands.

Naturally, Fu Qian refused to take it back.

He knew exactly where this sudden terror was coming from.

'You wanted to devour my sense of self?'

'Alright, you can have it all. Including the life-force extraction that overrides everything else and cannot be severed by any means.'

The Gift of the Pope was exactly that—a gift. If it seemed flawed, it was only because it was being used the wrong way.

"Cut it off! Do you really want us both to die?!"

The furious roars within his consciousness continued.

"Sure, provided you can track down the source of this connection."

Fu Qian replied bluntly, his voice cold and unwavering.

"Find Him."

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