Eldritch Horror Theatre

The Old Lady was indeed deeply familiar with this place.

Not only had they avoided making any wrong turns along the way, but even the lit room a short distance ahead was curtained so tightly that an ordinary person would never have noticed it.

During her many nightly treks, she must have seen it more than once; she already knew it was here.

Her reason for lighting the lantern was simple: now that she had brought him here, she clearly had no intention of going any closer. She was just leaving him a light before they parted ways.

It was very considerate. Unfortunately, he seemed to have given her a bit of a scare.

"You're hurt?"

Turning around, the Old Lady looked him up and down before letting out a sudden gasp.

Oh?

Noticing that her gaze was fixed on the multiple wounds covering his body rather than on his face, Fu Qian felt a sudden stir of realization.

He waved a hand, signaling that he was perfectly fine.

Given his surgical expertise and rapid recovery, the wounds were already barely visible. It made for a fairly convincing lie.

"That's good... Here, take this."

After a moment of hesitation, the warm-hearted Old Lady handed the lantern over, taking the opportunity to spare a few extra glances at Fu Qian's face.

"Are you... an outsider?"

The very next moment, realization seemed to strike her, and she gave a sharp start.

...

Did she really not recognize him?

In truth, the moment the lantern was lit, Fu Qian had worried he might scare the Old Lady—not because of his injuries, but because of his face.

That was why he had slightly disguised his voice earlier.

His sudden appearance was eerie enough; there was no need to let his identity as an outsider put even more psychological pressure on her.

Yet her immediate reaction upon seeing him in the lamplight struck Fu Qian as rather bizarre. All his earlier efforts to disguise himself had been completely pointless—she didn't know who he was.

This wasn't entirely impossible. For instance, in that Healing Dreamscape, her pointing the way for him might have just been a detail casually invented by Dorian. Perhaps it had never actually happened.

Dorian certainly had the motive to do so. After all, the entire theme of that dreamscape was to coax him away from the darkness, tempting him to stay there until he became completely lost in Hilaria's embrace.

Planting such a familiar detail would have made the illusion much more convincing.

But—what if that wasn't the case?

What if he really had arrived in Akons as an outsider, asked the Old Lady for directions, and then headed to the clinic for treatment?

If so, the fact that she didn't recognize him now carried truly terrifying implications.

After all, that would mean it was the backstory assigned to him by the Warehouse.

"Why do you ask? Does Akons get a lot of outsiders?"

Masking his racing thoughts, Fu Qian didn't immediately confirm her suspicion. Instead, he casually countered with his own question.

"Not often. It's been a very long time since I last saw an outsider."

A strange look crossed the Old Lady's startled face. The name Akons seemed to make her somewhat uncomfortable.

However, she quickly steadied her emotions and gently shook her head while studying Fu Qian's face.

"But your face is completely unfamiliar."

...

She really didn't recognize him.

Even her comment about not seeing an outsider in a long time practically ruled out the possibility that his appearance had simply been altered.

The Old Lady's answer made Fu Qian increasingly aware of just how peculiar this place was.

"You're right, I am an outsider. But judging by your reaction just now, I take it I shouldn't be using the name Akons?"

He frankly admitted his identity and expressed curiosity about her reaction.

He had expected a devout believer making a midnight pilgrimage to be a little more thrilled to hear that name.

"This place hasn't gone by that name in a long time. Of course, I don't care for the name Cold Mountain, either."

Strangely, she didn't seem all that emotionally affected by the fact that the name Akons had fallen out of use.

"In any case, you'd best not mention it to anyone else."

"Understood. Thank you."

So they renamed it Cold Mountain after their faith collapsed? he mused. Catchy enough, I suppose.

Keeping his thoughts to himself, Fu Qian didn't press her any further and finally accepted the lantern.

"Outsiders don't usually come this way. You ought to go find Dorian."

The Old Lady clearly appreciated good manners. Although she had already lost interest in talking and was preparing to leave, she still offered one final piece of advice.

She clearly couldn't fathom why Fu Qian had come out here.

"I'll do that shortly."

Fu Qian smiled as he accepted her suggestion, readily accepting good advice.

...

The Old Lady finally vanished into the darkness. Exhausted by her efforts, she limped slightly as she walked, completely abandoning any thought of heading to the edge of the town.

Watching her go, Fu Qian reached up to pluck a clump of blood from his shoulder, then pulled another from his waist.

Out of consideration for the Old Lady's psychological endurance, he had refrained from digging them out right in front of her, allowing them to accumulate slightly.

Knock, knock!

After briefly dealing with his wounds, he didn't waste any time. He strode straight to his destination and knocked on the door.

Inside was undoubtedly that dejected guy, hunched in the exact same posture he had held inside the Church.

Knock, knock, knock!

When no response came, Fu Qian wasn't surprised and simply kept knocking.

In theory, the Old Lady's advice hadn't been wrong.

Given her unusual reaction—namely, not recognizing him at all—his most pressing priority should have been heading back to Dorian to test and confirm a few things.

Although the wailing echoing through his mind hadn't changed in intensity, its effects were visibly accumulating. Heart Strike was occurring more and more frequently.

Under these circumstances, he theoretically should have weighed the pros and cons of wasting time visiting the rest of the congregation.

However, Fu Qian didn't hesitate. He still chose to drop in on this taciturn fellow.

The reason wasn't that he had much to discuss with the man, but rather because of something else inside that room.

Even before the Old Lady had lit the lantern, Fu Qian's perception had already detected something strange lingering behind the curtains alongside the owner of the room.

Now that he was standing right outside, that feeling was even clearer.

Resting right beside the dejected guy was something faintly shaped like a sword. It was holy and icy, and carried a very high Rank.

That such a Holy Artifact, one so obviously at odds with the atmosphere of Cold Mountain, was just sitting out in the open truly defied imagination.

Unfortunately, the man inside still made no move to answer the door, as if he had already severed his ties to the mortal world.

"Open up, it's the outsider."

Fu Qian didn't mind his silence in the least. He simply unleashed another barrage of rapid knocks.

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