Eldritch Horror Theatre

Chapter 1636: Not Polite Enough

They say low temperatures improve operational performance. Amid the biting frost, the group's reactions seemed to prove the point.

By the time Fu Qian finished his elegant, unhurried greeting and set his head back in its proper place, the others had clearly figured something out.

"Ill Omen!"

Unsurprisingly, the first to speak up was Hao Ke, with his sharp danger intuition.

Unable to control his volume, he took an involuntary half-step back, abandoning his advance to check on the injury.

In truth, there didn't seem to be any need.

While that Frost Lance had been utterly terrifying, it clearly hadn't been aimed at a vital spot. It had merely brushed past Qiu's shoulder.

Even so, a layer of white frost coated the surrounding area, leaving her temporarily paralyzed amid the crystalline chill.

"Those who offend a Deity's Favored One shall suffer the Punishment of Decapitation..."

Clutching her frozen shoulder with her other hand, Qiu repeated a phrase from her memories—and in doing so, successfully jogged everyone else's.

"Are you trying to say, Excellency... that the power Ill Omen used to kill those people has appeared on Qiu?"

Given this sudden turn of events, even Brother Decent—who had been the calmest among them all along—stared at Fu Qian in existential disbelief.

"Not bad. Quick reaction."

Though he was still making minor adjustments to the angle of his neck as if striving for perfect alignment, it didn't stop Fu Qian from validating their deduction.

"But not polite enough."

He wasn't finished speaking. The next moment, seemingly satisfied that his head was perfectly set, Fu Qian raised a hand, and another Frost Lance howled through the air.

"Downs—"

Unsurprisingly, the sudden attack elicited another scream.

The messy-haired man reacted the fastest, roaring at Brother Decent.

Unfortunately, at such close range, a shout was the best he could do.

The turn of events was so jarringly fast that Brother Decent, still reeling in shock, took the hit squarely and was sent flying backward.

This strike hadn't been a warning shot; it was aimed directly at his chest.

...

"I'm... fine!"

However, the man whose true name was Downs displayed considerable toughness. The moment he hit the ground, he rolled and propped himself up to report he was alive.

Though his strained voice wasn't terribly convincing.

One glance revealed that half his body was coated in frost, and the shattered ice crystals had even carved bloody lines across his cheek.

But regardless, at least it hadn't blown a hole straight through his chest.

Thanks to his quick reassurance, his three teammates immediately halted in their tracks.

Amid their shocked and furious glares, Excellency Grimshaw maintained his easygoing posture, acting as if the sudden killing blow he had just unleashed had nothing to do with him.

"Apologies, I was the one being impolite just now. I shouldn't have tried to be clever and test you."

Even more absurdly, Downs, having caught his breath, scrambled to apologize first.

Clatter!

The very next moment, he reached beneath his shredded coat, pulled out a thin, iridescent scale-like object, and tossed it to the ground.

It was small, exquisite, and spindle-shaped, resembling a scale from some unknown creature. Only now, clear cracks marred its once-smooth surface.

That was what had blocked the strike, saving him from the fate of a spear through the heart—with the attacker's cooperation, of course.

Both his apology and his actions proved that Downs was keenly aware of this fact.

At such close range, wouldn't it have been simpler to aim for his head if he really wanted him dead?

The attacker had struck the exact spot where he was protected, and even the force had been precisely calibrated to be blocked.

Rather than chalking it up to luck, anyone who wasn't hopelessly naive could see it was far more likely the attacker had deliberately pulled his punch.

This was a warning—a direct response to his earlier question.

"That previous incident was kept strictly classified. So when Your Excellency mentioned the Punishment of Decapitation, my immediate assumption was that you had been there."

Now breathing smoothly, Downs spoke faster than ever before, frankly laying bare his thought process.

"I apologize. I was receiving Your Excellency's guidance, yet I still impolitely offended you."

"You didn't offend me. You were just being impolite."

But the target of his probing quickly corrected his sincere apology. Fu Qian shook his head slightly as he spoke.

"Because you are wasting time."

...

Usually, people's stated reasons for attacking someone weren't entirely credible.

Yet Excellency Grimshaw's behavior from the beginning until now carried an irrefutable persuasiveness.

Hao Ke and the other two exchanged glances. Having quickly grasped what had just happened from the brief exchange, their initial agitation melted into silence.

Realizing the anomaly that had manifested on Qiu and its connection to Ill Omen, Downs's seemingly casual question was, upon closer thought, clearly an attempt to fish for information.

Since the details of that incident had been strictly classified, if Grimshaw had naturally played along with the question, it would have inevitably raised suspicions that he had been present at the scene, sparking endless speculation.

But Excellency Grimshaw had clearly seen through his intent the moment he spoke. Neither annoyed nor defensive, he chose to use a direct physical reminder to highlight the current priority.

He was acting from an absolute position of superiority—a fact that was terrifying upon deeper reflection.

Yet, it was precisely this dominant posture that made his targeted actions against the Shadow seem perfectly reasonable.

This man was far from an ordinary transcendent; he clearly knew far too many hidden secrets.

Trying to use conventional logic to deduce why he seemed so familiar with the previous incident was simply childish.

It appeared the only correct way to deal with him was to honestly prove their own worth.

Especially in such a bizarre situation.

"So the reality is, for some incomprehensible reason, I now possess the same so-called Sacred Law Protection that Ill Omen had?"

Among the group, whose state of mind had finally undergone Sublimation, Qiu—who had recovered some emotional stability—was the first to speak.

"And Yuri triggered it, which is why she—"

Staring at the decapitated body of her friend, her face remained pale as paper.

"Yes. Just as I did moments ago."

Her incredibly hard-to-accept theory was instantly confirmed by Fu Qian, who even gestured to his own neck.

Beyond a single red mark, a layer of fine ice crystals covered his skin.

It looked exactly as if the head he had cleanly popped off moments ago had been flawlessly frozen back into place, without impairing its function in the slightest.

"But why would Yuri attack me...? I can't think of a single reason."

Even with the facts laid bare before her, Qiu simply couldn't bring herself to accept them, subconsciously searching for holes in the logic.

"And there were two people at the scene. The other person seems even less likely to attack."

"Even if we take a massive step back and assume they were indeed killed because of me, and were even killed at the exact same time... that still doesn't explain the question we've had from the very beginning. Why didn't I notice anything at all? Why did I just walk away as if everything was completely normal?"

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