Eldritch Horror Theatre

"I see!"

Fu Qian finally understood why the Witch had reacted that way upon seeing the Pus Stone.

She had long known the fate of this world and had zero desire to interfere.

"Speaking of which, why are you here? Locked in the deepest part of the prison, no less?"

Fu Qian recalled a question he'd had earlier.

"Where else would I go?"

The Witch sighed soundlessly.

"When I was born, the world was already a chaotic, scorched wasteland. It was incredibly dull."

"I wandered for many years. Eventually, I found a trace of Mother's scent here, along with a group of survivors."

"Of course, they were rather terrified of me."

"So, did you meet the artist behind this painting?"

"No."

The Witch shook her head.

"While there were some decently strong people here back then, they were far from capable of that."

"After interacting with them a bit, I realized I wasn't exactly welcome. I later pretended to be caught and let them seal me down below."

"Even though this world is narrow and dilapidated, it's still somewhat more interesting than the outside. So, I stayed here all the way until now."

"No wonder. There are clearly some legends circulating about you around here, and none of them are very friendly."

Fu Qian sighed, turning his gaze back to the painting.

"You mentioned repainting it earlier. Is it really that simple to paint?"

"It was never difficult. The key simply lies in the paint."

"Paint? Don't tell me you mean using your blood?"

Fu Qian looked at the Witch in surprise.

"As a power from the same source, there is no fundamental difference."

The Witch picked up the palette beside her and took a delicate sniff.

"However, it can only be done on this canvas. That is why I said the old world will be destroyed."

"Are you ready? You will be both creator and destroyer."

"Why have me paint it?"

"Who else? Do you think I have any interest in painting with my own blood?"

The Witch gave Fu Qian a strange look.

I'm not exactly interested either, but I have plenty of motivation,

Fu Qian thought to himself.

After all, his mission objective was to eliminate all the Pus of Man.

If the world truly was destroyed like she said, it would technically count as completing the mission.

Fu Qian pondered for a moment, then reached out and took the nearby paintbrush.

"Just a heads up, my art skills are pretty average."

"That's fine. You can experiment as you please. Let me give you some basic materials first."

The Witch waved her hand. The next moment, a pool of crystal-clear liquid appeared on the palette, rippling with countless dark gleams.

"Can I mix in other things?"

"You can mix in anything. You are the creator now."

The Witch revealed an amused smile, seemingly eager to observe Fu Qian's reaction.

Anything...

Fu Qian thought for a long moment, tossed the brush aside, and extended his right hand.

Inside the wound on his palm, the Pus of Man had swollen significantly and was constantly churning.

Under the Witch's astonished gaze, Fu Qian pressed his right hand directly into her blood.

Accompanied by a soundless wail, the crystal-clear blood gradually turned murky.

After a long time, Fu Qian raised his hand. Looking at the inky liquid staining it, he slapped his palm squarely onto the canvas.

In the sky of the Painting World, a dark, hand-shaped radiance instantly appeared. The Seven Lights became the Eight Lights.

"You..."

The Witch's amused expression vanished as she turned to look out the glass window.

A vast, hand-shaped radiance slowly emerged, dominating a large swath of the night sky.

The brilliance was entirely dark red, with only a sliver of light bleeding from its edges.

It was hard to imagine how the residents would react to seeing this sight.

"Why did you do that?"

The Witch stared at Fu Qian's hand.

"The world was going to end anyway. It didn't cost anything to try."

"I was just thinking, since the Seven Lights are channels integrated into the essence of the world, could it be possible to make corruption a part of the world's essence as well?"

Fu Qian looked at her.

"Based on your description, I can understand how you felt when you saw this world.

"Everything goes through birth and death. I also believe there's no need to forcefully interfere, so I don't plan to repaint this world.

"If corruption can also become a part of the world's essence instead of being rejected as an anomaly, then I think this world at least won't be as chaotic during its process of decay."

"Look, there's already a reaction."

Fu Qian showed the Witch his palm.

The black fluid had gradually settled down, no longer giving off the feeling of a living creature.

It began to slowly melt away, turning into an illusory aura of shadow before completely integrating into his body.

In a mere instant, Fu Qian felt the scouring erosion of time. His body rapidly aged a fraction.

Fu Qian shook his arm.

"Actually, it feels pretty good. The negative effects brought by Awakening seem to have disappeared as well."

"The natural cost that came with each sequence before should be the result of syncing too closely with the world, right? The side effect of trying desperately to maintain Eternity?"

"That's an interesting line of thought—making decay a part of the world."

The Witch wasn't in a hurry to answer his question.

"Imagination really is important."

"This way, the Pus of Man is neutralized. The increase in the colorless curse it caused will return to normal, and there's even a new path for Awakening."

"The only price is that awakened ones will become like ordinary people, no longer able to avoid aging. But I think this makes more sense."

"From now on, those people just need to avoid the blizzards."

"It's just that the Seven Lights turning into the Eight Lights might cause a bit of a shock to their faith."

Fu Qian's actions had clearly piqued the Witch's interest.

"I've got it!"

The Witch suddenly pointed around them.

"I can establish a new sect here to represent the faith of the Eighth Light."

"What should I call it... I have to say, what you painted is really a bit ugly. Blood Finger? Dark Moon?"

"Dark Moon sounds a bit better."

Fu Qian chimed in with a deadpan critique.

"I think so too. Then, from now on, this place will be the Dark Moon Church. And I will be the first Pope. Do you have any interest in being a Templar Knight or something?"

"A Dark Moon Knight? That actually sounds pretty good."

[Current mission completed. Containment of 1-019 successful.]

At that moment, a familiar voice rang in his ears, announcing the success of Fu Qian's attempt.

In that short span of time, all the Pus of Man had finished transforming.

Saves time and effort!

Fu Qian was highly satisfied with this batch operation.

"Leaving so soon?"

Sensing something, the Witch looked up at Fu Qian.

"What makes you say that?"

This time, it was Fu Qian who was taken aback.

"Intuition. You seem to carry a lot of secrets."

"Indeed. My business here is finished. I shall wander the four seas; we part ways here."

"Very well, then."

The Witch offered a faint smile. She hopped off the tall stool and gave an elegant curtsy.

"Farewell, mysterious art critic."

"Farewell, nameless Cosmic Pretty Girl."

With their goodbyes said, the scene before his eyes swirled and shifted.

The next moment, the Church, the Witch, and the canvas all vanished. Fu Qian appeared in the Warehouse.

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