Eldritch Horror Theatre

What was this, the White-Hot Knight?

Fu Qian was absolutely certain nothing had been in that spot a moment ago.

The sudden attacker felt as though he had stepped out of some inconceivable spacetime, passing right through the veil Fu Qian had just mentioned.

Although it lacked the outrageous mechanics of His Excellency the Prison Archangel's Instant Thousand Strikes, this light-speed five-thrust combo was still terrifying.

It wasn't just fast; its destructive power was absurd.

Fu Qian knew that if he hadn't triggered Blood Crusade the instant he sensed something was wrong, even his Body of a Pseudo-God wouldn't have been able to withstand the blow.

The proof was the gash left across his chest despite his timely dodge.

The strike carried no flashy visual effects—just pure destructive force.

Its intensity was so absurd that it almost bypassed his outer physical flesh entirely, penetrating straight to his fundamental self.

The reason it was so staggering was simple: his opponent clearly wasn't at a disadvantage in Rank.

Indeed, the figure that unleashed those five thrusts radiated an undisguised, oppressive pressure.

This suspected second Knight who had appeared so precisely was almost certainly at Tier 2, matching Fu Qian.

This mission was turning out to be rather thrilling.

Amid these musings, Fu Qian carefully sized up this High-Tier Transcendent.

He stood a full head taller than Fu Qian even in his Resplendent Tyrant form, and his excessively gaunt frame made his limbs appear unusually long.

But the sword in his hand was even longer.

Held in his left hand, the nearly man-sized Greatsword had a pure white hue—one that transcended the category of mere light—roaming across its surface, making it look somewhat unreal.

Those five rapid thrusts had just come from it.

Beyond that, the newcomer's entire body gave off almost the exact same impression.

Despite his unusual proportions, his still majestic frame was completely encased in a layer of silver-white Armor.

Unlike the conventional style of such protective gear, the metal gave off a silken texture. Paired with its exquisitely intricate patterns, at first glance it looked more like formal attire than battle armor.

The helmet didn't even have a place for eyes.

All in all, the visual impression was vastly superior to the Pestilence Knight from before.

He just wasn't very talkative.

After losing his target in that single strike, he didn't stay in place to shout threats. Instead, moving like a phantom with nearly imperceptible speed, he slashed continuously at his surroundings.

...

His target wasn't Fu Qian.

Standing perfectly still, Fu Qian was absolutely certain of this, and could even roughly guess what his opponent was trying to do.

Crisscrossing the area, the ridiculously long sword—coupled with that white hue seemingly bleeding out of it—slashed through every direction in just five strokes.

After doing all this, his movements stopped abruptly as if devoid of inertia. Adopting a stance that almost resembled a salute, the White-Hot Knight pointed his Greatsword in this direction once more.

He still couldn't see Fu Qian, but it seemed Fu Qian couldn't leave either.

Watching his opponent's actions without making a sound, Fu Qian silently marveled while letting his chest wound heal.

Although he hadn't actually tested it yet, Fu Qian was fairly certain that a barrier now covered everywhere the Greatsword had just slashed.

That action hadn't been a venting of frustration over losing his target, but a deliberate attempt to trap his hiding prey.

In stark contrast to his previous colleague, the White-Hot Knight was ruthlessly taciturn, seemingly turned into a pure killing machine.

And with every swing of his blade just now, it felt as if a Dislocation in spacetime was taking place.

As a result, his perception was now almost completely confined to a cubic space formed by the massive, intersecting planes carved out by those five strikes.

This White-Hot Knight clearly lacked the ability to strike across dimensions, but that didn't mean he was without countermeasures; he had actually used this method of drawing a circle on the ground as a prison to trap him right here.

A prison that could restrict him even in his Blood Crusade State.

And it seemed the only way to leave was to eliminate him first.

He just wondered if he simply never went out, whether the knight would proceed to execute a millimeter-level slicing of this space.

And if he truly did that, what the consequences would be.

Of course, a rectangular prism had six faces. Right now, the only unsealed area was right beneath his feet.

But he couldn't forget that his mission objective was to find someone.

As the final layer of the prison, unless Virgo, La Nina, had dug a tunnel to hide even deeper, fleeing down there would have little meaning.

An interesting trick. Truly a pleasure to meet you.

Observing his current predicament, Fu Qian offered a slight bow to return the salute, even knowing his opponent couldn't see him.

And in the next moment, he canceled Blood Crusade altogether.

Just as expected.

Almost instantly came another white five-thrust combo. The opponent truly had not a shred of desire to communicate.

Fortunately, Fu Qian hadn't held any expectations of that either, throwing a punch of his own at the exact same time.

You might be tall with long legs and peerless swordsmanship, but this seat's ordinary punch is equally blind. Please, have a taste.

Besides, while both of them had clearly opted for a physical attack-stacking route, this Fu had never neglected his Health Bar either.

...

Thwack—

The tactile sensation was rather peculiar.

The White-Hot Knight had clearly maxed out his agility. Even while his attack was charging forward undaunted, he still didn't forget to subconsciously dodge.

Unfortunately, against his opponent, such a response still lacked sufficient sincerity.

At the same time his own chest was laid completely open, Fu Qian's fist also pierced through that gorgeous, thin Armor, and the body beneath it.

Sparkling.

That was Fu Qian's immediate sensation.

The Armor was by no means an empty shell; there was genuinely someone inside.

It was just that he got the feeling this White-Hot Knight's body was no longer a flesh and blood structure in the conventional sense.

Although he could still feel skin and bone, and the tactile sensation was still fundamentally different from iron or stone, the basic building blocks composing them felt as if they had undergone some fundamental mutation.

It was as if the structure was clearly still intact, but every individual cell had turned into crystal-clear, translucent sand.

Truly fascinating. It was a pity he only had time to experience this tactile sensation for a brief instant.

After his body was pierced straight through by this punch, the White-Hot Knight was so fast that he didn't even give him a chance for a Visceral Attack.

While leaving a horrific wound on Fu Qian's upper body, he decisively abandoned his subsequent pursuit, directly executing a horizontal sweep to force him back.

It was obvious that even with only combat instincts remaining, this outcome of trading injury for injury was still something he did his utmost to avoid.

But it didn't matter. If you won't follow up, this seat will.

Without fully retracting his fist, in the next moment hundreds and thousands of tentacles exploded directly from Fu Qian's body, their surfaces studded with bone-white fangs and jagged barbs.

With the buff of Dimensional Poison, every single corner of this space was flooded.

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