Eldritch Horror Theatre

He was a little curious about what had just exploded inside Brother Taylor's head.

Although it had started out as a cost-free experiment, the bizarre sight in his palm undeniably hinted at something terrible.

The Corridor's corrosion ran far deeper than a simple worm-like arm.

Not only were his abilities sealed, but his very nature of existence now resembled that of a proxy.

The difficulty Brother Persuader had mentioned about leaving an Imprint was one thing, but it seemed that even if he managed to leave one behind, it would most likely bear the trace of the "insect."

It wasn't entirely surprising. Back during his first encounter with Brother Persuader, the mission summary had noted that Nightmares were channels for a Higher Existence's Descent. The insect and the child back then had been manifestations of that very truth.

However, this undoubtedly made the situation even more dire.

There was already the highly suspicious Persuader spying from the sidelines, ever ready to pluck the fruits of victory.

Now, the entity that consistently manifested through the concept of the "insect"—undeniably the true evil god of this Nightmare—had added yet another link to the food chain.

Even within the Nightmare, the Transcendent effects he had managed to replicate through his high degree of control had been entirely imbued with the essence of the "insect."

Even if he managed to use this to spread corruption and leave an Imprint on the dreamwalker, whoever ultimately breached the barrier would most likely not be him.

Yet, outside of this twisted power, he seemingly had no other means of spreading corruption.

This predicament bore a striking resemblance to the "Divine Corrosion" ability Brother Persuader had once introduced himself with—different tunes played with equal skill.

...

"Preposterous!"

The atmosphere within the Nightmare was equally grim.

Fangs, sharp claws, bat wings—Taylor had finally recovered his wits and unreservedly unleashed his Blood Clan traits, practically boiling with murderous intent.

The Gulade Family obviously wasn't going to surrender without a fight—nor would they foolishly throw themselves into a hopeless battle.

Wary of his opponent's continuous bizarre displays, Taylor unleashed his full aura but refrained from launching a direct assault.

"Heh... Taylor Gulade..."

As he called out the name, Dayun Mingwang finally lifted his gaze from his hand.

"Not bad. Pity it's already too late."

In a single breath, Dayun Mingwang slipped right back into the Charlatan Realm.

"On that day, the Gulade Family was swallowed by an immense darkness. Even Annalise could not stop it..."

"And it was only the beginning. The darkness in Shangjing is still growing, swelling, and it will eventually descend from the heavens..."

Amidst this solemn declaration, the Emblem on his mask glowed a vibrant red, as if ready to drip blood.

"All you can do is submit. Submit to this Power of Calamity..."

"What do you mean, 'that day'—Ambor?"

Triggered by this hint, even someone as dense as Taylor experienced a sudden flash of insight, finally reaching complete enlightenment.

"His death was a conspiracy! A conspiracy aimed at Gulade!"

"Heh... the methods hardly matter, so long as that future arrives!"

Making no attempt to deny the accusation, Fu Qian let out a textbook villainous laugh.

"Even Gulade itself is entirely irrelevant."

As he spoke, he pressed a hand to his face and slowly peeled off his mask.

...

You...

In that instant, despite his mental preparations, Taylor was struck by another heavy blow.

It was indeed Jiang En. There was absolutely no mistaking it.

Only, that once young, sharp face was now as coarse as sandpaper.

It was dotted with patches of black and yellow chitin, contracting and pulsating rhythmically like insect hide.

"Everyone will experience this enlightenment, finding their rightful place on the chain of Transcendence..."

The fanatical declarations continued without pause.

"When the time comes, you will truly realize how laughable the Blood Clan's so-called pride is, and how crude your so-called elegance really is."

"...You are nothing but a madman unwilling to accept defeat."

The Blood Clan obviously couldn't stomach insults; Taylor was already gnashing his teeth.

"A great existence...? You underestimate the Blood Clan a bit too much. I guarantee you will never see the day your so-called darkness descends!"

"Is that so?"

Taylor's imagination was truly running wild. Spurred on by the hints, not only did he fail to question the authenticity of the face, but he easily connected the dots between numerous plot points. He had even concocted an entire mental journey to explain Northern Jiang En's fall from grace.

Seeing this, Fu Qian didn't hesitate to add fuel to the fire.

"Then tell me, what day is it today?"

...

The moment the words left his mouth, Taylor froze. He jerked his head to look around, and for a split second, all of time and space seemed to teeter on the verge of collapse.

'Bastard!'

Without even waiting for him to speak, Fu Qian seemed to hear a furious roar echo in his mind.

"This..."

Ultimately, Taylor couldn't manage to force out another word.

As Taylor stared back at Fu Qian in sheer disbelief, the Illusory Eye—the symbol of his immersion as a dreamwalker—shattered with a loud crash.

"Care to take a seat?"

With his business partner having successfully departed, Fu Qian felt no sense of loss. He merely stared into the empty space before him and asked the question.

Naturally, he wasn't talking to the victim on the bed behind him—that fellow was clearly still dead drunk.

As the dignified Dayun Mingwang, it was only natural to have a vast and varied circle of acquaintances to converse with.

Brother Taylor might have left, but wasn't the God Corroder still around?

That had been one of his goals in the first place—to go through the effort of maintaining this dreamscape even after the dreamwalker had awoken.

"Your line of thinking... is completely incomprehensible!"

As it turned out, Dayun Mingwang still held some prestige.

In the quiet room, broken only by the soft snoring behind him, Fu Qian waited patiently for a mere thirty seconds. The door Taylor had just closed was pushed open once more, revealing a figure with a strikingly unusual bone structure.

"Brother Persuader seems to have some complaints about my recent methods?"

Showing no surprise whatsoever, Fu Qian gestured for him to take a seat, nodding as if consulting him for advice.

"Even I must admit that you performed exceptionally well up until the end. But why ask him a question like that?"

The Persuader didn't decline the polite offer. Though he didn't actually sit down, he walked right up to Fu Qian, continuously airing his grievances.

"Forcing a dreamwalker to question their current point in time—anyone knows that is the easiest way to shock them awake! Why sabotage your own hard work?"

"Haha! Brother Persuader, you truly are cold on the outside but warm on the inside! You claim I am beyond saving, yet you constantly monitor an old friend's well-being. It warms my heart."

Faced with this harsh interrogation, however, Fu Qian laughed cheerfully.

"...Because you sensed me nearby? You would rather ruin the illusion than let me profit from it?"

Unfortunately, the Persuader clearly didn't appreciate the sentiment. He coldly voiced his assumption.

"Otherwise, with your level of control over the dreamscape, you could have forcibly kept him here at the very end. Don't tell me you weren't aware of that?"

"You truly misunderstand me."

His smile finally fading slightly, Fu Qian stared at the Persuader and let out a long sigh.

"Besides, are you so sure there would be any point in keeping him here?"

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