Eldritch Horror Theatre

The cold wind howled.

Despite having become a human radar, Fu Qian didn't head straight into town to start a massacre.

He chose to retrace his previous route, making his way to the Old City.

Given the speed of the flesh transformation, he still had plenty of time.

There was one thing he wanted to figure out.

Feeling the Key in his pocket, Fu Qian headed straight for the snow-covered Spire atop the Church.

...

A few minutes later, Fu Qian leaped down from the Church roof once again.

In the darkness, the stained-glass window he hadn't had the chance to inspect last time was still dazzlingly bright.

Up close, the surface of the stained glass seemed covered by a transparent veil.

Fu Qian reached out, his fingers brushing against what felt like a hidden boundary.

He pushed with a bit more force, and the stained glass slowly swung inward.

After waiting two seconds to ensure no attack was coming, Fu Qian squeezed himself inside.

There really was something here!

The scene behind the stained glass left even Fu Qian slightly amazed.

Behind it lay a completely independent space.

It wasn't large—perhaps only ten square meters or so.

The furnishings inside were just as simple. Beneath the window, which took up almost half the wall, stood a massive easel.

Next to the easel was a tall stool holding a few paintbrushes and a dried-out palette.

There was nothing else.

Fu Qian stepped forward. On the easel rested a completed painting.

Its contents appeared incredibly complex, but the most striking feature was the seven colorful rays of light in the sky.

It was an exact match for the view looking out the window from this angle.

This is...

The next moment, Fu Qian sensed something unusual and pulled the Starlight Key from his pocket.

The Key, already crystal clear, was now shining brilliantly, radiating rings of light.

Fu Qian merely glanced at it before tossing the Key onto the nearby stool and returning his attention to the painting.

The painting was clearly ancient.

Not only was it generally faded, but the bottom right corner had warped as if rotting, turning a stale yellowish-brown.

Parts of it had even begun to peel away.

Sss!

This place looked familiar... it seemed to be the exact spot he was standing in right now!

Upon realizing this, Fu Qian couldn't help but draw a sharp breath.

After staring at it for a long while, he suddenly turned toward the Key on the stool.

"Whatever you might think, honestly, this is a pretty terrible painting."

"Especially the Seven Lights up there. They look like they were slapped on at random. A kindergartner could draw better than this..."

"The linework and brushwork are completely amateurish too..."

...

"You took quite a while to find this!"

Just as Fu Qian finished muttering his critique, a voice suddenly echoed from the Key.

The next moment, the light upon it gathered, outlining a pale silhouette.

The Witch, wearing a pointed hat, sat on the edge of the stool and studied the painting in front of her with great interest.

"I had no choice. After all, as a member of the Monitoring Team, I still have cases to solve and killers to catch,"

Fu Qian replied casually.

By now, he was practically certain that this was the place the Witch had wanted him to find.

When he had visited earlier, the veil over the stained glass had likely acted as a shield, preventing the Key from sensing what was inside.

That was why the Key hadn't reacted back then.

But once he stepped inside, the shielding no longer worked.

The Witch scrutinized the painting for a long while before finally shaking her head.

"I also think it's poorly drawn."

"Even though it was painted with my Mother's blood."

What?

Fu Qian shot her a glance.

Considering the Witch's true form, her Mother had to be an extraordinary entity. And this was actually painted using her blood?

"Speaking of which, do you understand now why I asked you to find this?"

"Let me think."

Fu Qian stared at the painting.

"You aren't trying to tell me that the people outside have been living inside a painting this whole time? One painted with your Mother's blood."

"Spot on!"

The Witch's tone was completely flat.

"However, it might differ from your ingrained concepts. To us, the concept of a Mother is more akin to a root or a seed, rather than a matter of direct birth."

"In fact, I've never even met her."

"By the time I was born, the outside world had already been destroyed."

"Although the specific process is unclear, basically, this world encountered a catastrophe involving all sorts of powerful entities."

"And at the very last moment, someone hunted down one of those powerful entities and used her blood to paint this world as humanity's final refuge."

"What miraculous power!"

Although he had already guessed some of it, Fu Qian still let out a heartfelt sigh of amazement.

"Yes. It's a pity that too many years have passed, and blood eventually rots."

"Is that why natural disasters started appearing here?"

Fu Qian pointed to the bottom right corner of the painting.

"Natural disasters are just one of the symptoms."

One of the symptoms...

Fu Qian instantly realized something and raised his right hand toward the Witch.

"The Pus of Man as well?"

"Get that thing out of my face!"

The Witch revealed an expression of utter disgust.

"But you're right. That is also a symptom of the rot."

"Then what about the colorless curse? I remember you saying before that the Pus of Man and the colorless curse were opposing forces."

"Before I answer that, I have a question for you. Why do you think that person painted seven such ugly rays of light at the end?"

Why specifically paint the Seven Lights...

Fu Qian looked at the smears of color in the sky.

"To give people faith? So they could Awaken and enter a sequence?"

"Correct! That was exactly the purpose."

"As for the root cause, to put it plainly, this is a painted world after all, fundamentally different from the Real World."

"If ordinary people want to survive here long-term, they must truly integrate into the painting; otherwise, they'll easily be rejected."

"So the colorless curse is a manifestation of being rejected?"

Fu Qian immediately understood.

"Yes. For those unlucky ones who are rejected, their very existence slowly vanishes from this world."

"The Seven Lights were born to solve this problem. They are the channel for integrating into the Painting World."

"As long as someone can Awaken using the Seven Lights as a foundation, regardless of which path they take, it is equivalent to perfectly synchronizing with this world."

"From then on, not only will they not suffer from fading, but they can also share in its prolonged life and power."

"This was originally a very good design, but as I just said, given enough time, blood rots."

"Many years have passed. Not only has the loss of foundational power grown increasingly severe, but entering a sequence has also become harder and harder."

"Even those who have already synchronized are affected by the world's rot. The Pus of Man breeds inside their bodies, which in turn accelerates the loss of power."

So it was actually like this...

Fu Qian instantly connected everything together.

"Is this irreversible? Is there a solution?"

"There is!"

The Witch gazed at Fu Qian, showing neither sorrow nor joy.

"Paint another one."

"But the original world will be destroyed in the process, and all these people will die."

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