Eldritch Horror Theatre

A double negative made it easier for people to believe the "truth" they ultimately discovered.

This was why, upon realizing the prisoner possessed a conscious mind, Fu Qian hadn't applied the flame enchantment to his first two strikes.

The perfect scenario would be for the prisoner to know the White-Faced Man intimately. With enough underworld experience to see past simple appearances, he might spot the details that proved Fu Qian was an imposter.

Even better if he took a hit and experienced it firsthand, successfully verifying that suspicion.

Following up with an enchanted strike would then help him realize there was another reason for the anomaly, prompting him to overturn his own conclusion.

Ultimately, this would lend maximum credibility to the White-Faced Man's identity and the spreading golden flames, greatly increasing the chances that this information would reach the Night Watchers.

And from the looks of it, the execution had been flawless.

The proof was in that furious turning strike. While it nearly cleaved the Plain Knight in half, the prisoner used astonishing agility to dodge into the attack's blind spot without seizing the chance to counterattack.

The sheer lethality seemed to have shocked him, yet he didn't flee. Instead, he stared intently at the burning blade and the bizarrely twitching halves of the knight.

Aside from finding a prisoner determined to uncover the truth regardless of the danger to his life, there was another harvest from this trip.

Beyond using the golden flames for misdirection, he absolutely had to test whether striking these things with them would yield any special effect.

That peculiar feeling had never faded, yet even now, he still hadn't found the exact danger the Red Moon had warned him about.

And from what he had seen so far, this group of astonishingly strong tin cans really did seem utterly ordinary, making it impossible to understand the source of their combat prowess.

Without activating his Mythical Form, his time limit in this place was fast approaching. Before leaving, he had always planned to burn them with this special flame—which supposedly originated from the King of the Abandoned Prison—to see how they would react.

Now, he could only conclude that a person really needed to maintain their curiosity; the sight before his eyes was genuinely wondrous.

...

On the cross-sections of the arms, the waist, and that massive torso, he could see something resembling flesh and blood. It was even twitching.

This might not have been too extraordinary on its own, but the cross-sections of the giant shield and the armor were exactly the same.

The material that had looked like metal in every way just moments ago now seemed to have shed some wondrous plating. It writhed exactly like the body, creating an extreme sense of dissonance.

In just an instant, the exact nature of that dissonance was answered.

The flames' influence continued to spread around the incision. As a larger area of the "plating" peeled away, the originally normal surface of the armor turned horrifying.

Uneven and multicolored, it was made up of miniature bodies overlapping and clinging to one another.

He could easily distinguish humans, cattle, sheep, snakes, fish, and birds within the mass... as well as even more deformed bodies belonging to the Transcendent Tier.

They weren't simply piled together. They were connected in a bizarre yet exquisite manner, like an intricately constructed machine.

A flesh-and-blood substrate, yet a machine structure—or perhaps it should be called one hundred percent wetware?

So what exactly was this thing? If it represented the authority of some Deity, wasn't it a bit too sinister?

His gaze swept over the severed railing nearby. Confirming it displayed the exact same phenomenon, Fu Qian vanished from the spot, causing a long tentacle aimed at his back to strike empty air.

As thick as an arm and the color of human skin, the tentacle had probed out from beneath the prisoner's clothes.

Obviously, after observing for a while, the prisoner had decided to make a move.

Although this move evoked a sense of mutual appreciation, he had already had his fill of fun for today. They would have to save their next encounter for another time.

Carrying this minor regret, Fu Qian once again entered the Blood Crusade State. As he endured the sensation of being torn to pieces while crossing toward the entrance, the thoughts surfacing in his mind were not just of that final bizarre sight, but also of his own Mythical Form—the Mechanical Tyrant.

When he first donned the Divine Skin, he had marveled at the eeriness of that form. Operating through countless gears and parts in a state distinct from a biological organism, it felt like an ancient Divine Entity replicated through cold machinery.

Even though it was vastly different from the scene he had just witnessed, it inevitably sparked some indescribable associations.

Was there some fundamental similarity between them?

...

Not bad. It hadn't failed.

As he rapidly took stock of this trip's harvest, the furious tide rose once more.

Fu Qian successfully passed through the circular door in the wall and returned to the junction.

The Decree of Return was activated, and the Armor was summoned once more.

Although the latter faintly showed signs of breaking down, Fu Qian maintained this maximized protection and plunged headlong into Liliana's Hideout.

By the time he reached the door leading to the Half-Step Moon, his Pseudo-God Incarnation had been over for almost three seconds.

Fu Qian stood before the door for an extra second, memorizing every single change in his body before stepping inside.

Phew—

On the Half-Step Moon, the dreamscape dissipated almost instantly, and the Armor vanished with it.

At the same time, Fu Qian pulled off the Emissary Mask.

With a long exhale, the dim Warehouse appeared before his eyes.

Taking his seat, Fu Qian activated the Mythical Form that he had left unused throughout his entire exploration.

The King of the Abandoned Prison descended once again. Only this time, the perspective of the Deity spreading Calamity was turned on himself.

His body, already under immense pressure, felt even heavier supporting the Mythical Form.

However, Fu Qian remained incredibly patient. Entering a meditative trance, he quietly visualized the layers of Illusory Eyes across his body, not letting a single one slip past his scrutiny.

Finally, Fu Qian locked onto a concept so dim it was almost impossible to grasp, and the corresponding Calamity Eyes rapidly snapped open.

Firelight burst forth. The Calamity, accumulated to its peak, detonated, igniting almost the entirety of Fu Qian's body.

It lasted for about two seconds. In the instant before the golden flames extinguished, he reached toward the back of his head. By the time he pulled his hand back, he had dug something out.

It was the size of a palm and intricately shaped.

Beneath a few drops of blood, it was astonishingly a lifelike replica of himself.

Looking closely, he could see that this heavy Doll's body was just like what he had seen moments ago—formed by the intertwining of countless tiny bodies of various shapes.

The biggest difference from the Plain Knight was that these bodies didn't possess all sorts of colors. Instead, they were a uniform white.

Unfortunately, the moment it was dug out of his body, the Small Doll began to collapse, turning to flying ash in less than a breath.

It seemed he had finally found the danger the Red Moon had warned him about. That special feeling was because something was parasitizing him.

Even though the crisis appeared to be resolved, Fu Qian maintained his lifting posture, recalling the scene he had witnessed earlier.

White, but not the bone-ash white on his face; rather, it was as delicate as porcelain.

If he remembered correctly, didn't Classmate Su Gao's Doll also grow out of her body?

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