Eldritch Horror Theatre

Blood-red marks surfaced and meandered along the lines of his palm, as if an unseen hand were wielding a brush in the void.

Instead of taking the work Lotte offered, Fu Qian kept his hand open, recreating the Emblem of the King of the Abandoned Prison under his own watchful gaze.

After that recent clash, his refined control over the dream made this maneuver effortless—not to mention the pattern was simple to begin with.

A few seconds later, having finished the recreation, Fu Qian finally reached out to take Lotte's handiwork, placing the two side by side.

"Are there any mistakes?"

Prompted by his actions, Lotte—who had been on edge this whole time—couldn't help leaning closer to carefully compare the two patterns.

Obviously, her untrained eyes couldn't spot a thing.

Truth be told, Fu Qian's equally untrained eyes couldn't either.

The image resting in his palm was exactly the same pattern as the one on the paper—crude and sublime, yet having absolutely nothing to do with the King of the Abandoned Prison.

...

In truth, back when he first demonstrated it for Lotte, Fu Qian had already felt a faint sense of wrongness, as if something were interfering with him.

But to maintain his imposing facade while his control was barely sufficient, he had poured every ounce of his remaining strength into those few seconds. By the time he withdrew his hand, he hadn't even had the chance to look at the result.

The scene before him merely proved how crucial it was to double-check one's work.

The Emblem of the King of the Abandoned Prison, which had been perfectly clear in his own perception, had been forcibly altered.

The motive was obvious. This Emblem, which pointed directly to his true essence, was not allowed to be transmitted within this dream.

Honestly, seeing the alteration with his own eyes didn't surprise him much.

The current situation was clear enough: corrupted by the power of The Corridor—mainly by Alakir—he and the Persuader were struggling to survive as mere pawns.

Alakir didn't object to this. In fact, He was actively expending effort to help them.

Because if they actually succeeded, the fruits of victory would undoubtedly fall into His hands anyway. The two pawns would only get whatever scraps He saw fit to leave them.

The Transcendent power he had so easily manifested in Taylor's dream was proof of that.

The outer form belonged to him, but the inner core belonged to Him.

It was like an investor offering funding just to secure a controlling stake... and you didn't even have the right to refuse.

Upon realizing this, he had halted the violent corruption of Taylor and sent him out.

The Persuader had almost instantly expressed his confusion, but Alakir had shown no means of Chastisement. That seemed to align with the Persuader's claim that the entity had only slightly awakened.

Unfortunately, that was only how it seemed.

In this new dream, when he tried to bypass the Transcendent corruption and seek a way out strictly by transmitting information, he had been instantly met with interference.

...

He had left the Persuader to hold down Taylor's dream while he stepped out to find an alternative route. The thought process behind his recent maneuvers was glaringly obvious.

Given the lesson he had learned from Taylor, and faced with a dreamwalker whose aptitude was far worse, he had firmly decided against expending massive effort to seize control of the dream for violent corruption.

Instead, he had opted to sit back and philosophize, approaching the problem from a purely mental angle.

For him, this was undoubtedly an attempt to bypass the interference.

But to Alakir, this was a waste of time and resources—a purely negative act of rebellion from a pawn trying to break free.

Under these circumstances, He could no longer afford to lie low.

The anomaly with the Emblem was simple enough. Someone else had quietly seized a measure of control over the dream—just as he had—and interfered with its manifestation.

Brother Persuader was still faithfully holding the fort in Taylor's dream; the odds of his hand reaching all the way over here were microscopic.

Entities Should Not Be Multiplied Without Necessity.

Rather than assuming Alakir had other invisible pawns lying around, Fu Qian was more inclined to believe that His own will was far more lucid than expected.

The moment Fu Qian tried his little trick, He had immediately cut off his retreat, personally stepping in to give him a harsh dose of reality.

In fact, the Emblem right in front of him might even belong to Him.

He could, of course, confirm that this hadn't happened on Taylor's end. When he had removed his mask, he had seen it clearly: it had definitely been the original Emblem of the King of the Abandoned Prison.

The reason for the differing treatment likely stemmed from his previous approach. Back then, he had mostly used it to spin conspiracy theories rather than preach, making the risk of Him exposing His active state too early seem unjustified.

On the other hand, Fu Qian had seized control of that dream with incredible efficiency. Had He tried to muster enough control to interfere, it might have dragged the dream behind the door entirely, stripping it of all value.

He was unwilling to be so wasteful.

"No mistakes. You drew it well. It seems you truly possess a talent for faith."

Facing Lotte's questioning gaze, Fu Qian gave a slight nod, finally offering his "preliminary approval."

He made no further attempt to use pen, paper, or words to convey the Emblem's true shape.

Alakir's brazen interference made it perfectly clear that He no longer minded this level of exposure.

Any other methods Fu Qian tried would almost certainly be warped as well. In fact, if pushed, He would probably just shatter this dream altogether.

In fact, Fu Qian could already sense a power rapidly taking control of the dreamscape, making zero effort to hide itself.

This only proved further that the dream had lost almost all value to Him.

After all, such direct intervention would undoubtedly trigger an equally direct backlash. They were likely only a single step away from being dragged behind the door.

"Thank you for the approval... So what should I do next?"

Though clearly pleased by the praise, Lotte also looked a little uneasy. She obviously suspected there was more to Fu Qian's eccentric behavior.

"Simple. Do what you just promised to do."

As if he had long since prepared an answer, Fu Qian stood right up and headed for the door even as he spoke.

Hmm?

Lotte was too stunned to react, but she obviously didn't dare show Venerable Fu any disrespect. She simply watched him leave without asking a single question.

It was only when he casually closed the door behind him and departed that a jolt of horror shot through her.

What she had promised just now—to respect his goodwill... and not disturb others while they slept?

He was going to her sister!

The sudden realization made her want to leap out of her seat. Yet, after a brief internal struggle, Lotte ultimately remained frozen in place, staring silently at the Emblem before her.

...

Fu Qian, of course, did not go to Veil's room—mainly because Veil obviously wasn't there.

Please, follow me...

As the door clicked shut behind him, a figure slipped silently out from behind the beige wall nearby. It was Veil, wearing nothing but a bathrobe.

Her expression was slightly conflicted. Though she said nothing, her posture and gestures clearly conveyed those exact words. Once she confirmed Fu Qian was following, she turned and led the way.

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