Eldritch Horror Theatre

“Thank me for what?”

Reunited with an old acquaintance, Fu Qian didn't resort to the silent treatment. He played along with a reply while sizing up his surroundings.

"Thank you for helping me understand the meaning of self-abandonment. You did very well."

"My prior understanding was correct. This is a place only you could unlock."

Master Yuhun was clearly suffering the exact same burning.

His hair scattered into ash, and fiery trails traced across his clothes. Even his exposed fair skin was peeling away layer by layer, from the outside in.

Only the leaf in his hand remained vibrantly green, while he seemed oblivious to the flames, his voice calm.

"You aren't wrong about that now, either."

Although their reasons for reaching this conclusion existed on entirely different dimensions, Fu Qian still sought common ground while reserving differences, continuing his relentless search.

It seemed Fu Qian's actions had finally elicited Master Yuhun's confusion.

After a brief pause, the latter offered a kind reminder—or perhaps just curiosity.

I wasn't actually sure I could find it—not bad.

Thinking this, Fu Qian reached out and picked up a Tiny Bell from the ground by his feet.

Eternally Lucid Mind.

...

In that exchange just now, not a single moment could have been wasted.

Every opportunity to strike had been won at a staggering price and was almost impossible to replicate.

It was to the point that he hadn't even tried stabbing anyone with his sword to drain their blood, much less retracting the Bell after using it.

But gratifyingly, this item that had repeatedly worked miracles was finally recovered.

As for why it could still be found?

One only needed to understand why that transformation had just occurred.

First, with Master Yuhun's help, he had resonated with the past history of the Abandoned Prison.

However, because of his actions in this "remastered edition," the subsequent developments had deviated far too outrageously. It officially became a false branch of history, which was then forcibly terminated, unable to be maintained.

Master Yuhun's power of imagination looked a bit like the Warehouse at first glance, but in the end, it lacked the authority to manipulate worldlines.

In fact, thanks to his extensive work experience, back when he was trapped in the apocalypse, Fu Qian had considered a similar escape method. For instance, directly killing the Mother of Gospel should have allowed him to return to "reality."

But that entity was very cautious, and since he had a less strenuous method available, it had only served as a backup plan.

But this concept was one of the reasons why he had been so ruthless toward the Dragon King just now.

The life or death of such a powerful entity was obviously an extremely important element to history.

If the execution caused too great a conflict with history, it would very likely allow him to break free completely.

It was just a pity that even with him acting so ruthlessly, the assassination night remained stable. In the end, he still had to rely on the chain of suspicion to resolve it.

For this very reason, there was good cause to believe that during the original assassination night, the Dragon King had very likely also died, which was why no conflict occurred.

Sure enough, the frontline easily became cannon fodder, no matter how high their level was.

In short, the historical exile shattered, and he officially broke through the obstacle to arrive at his destination.

And the reason he still searched for the item he had discarded in history was that he recognized the difference between Master Yuhun's power of imagination and the Warehouse's genuine Space-Time Authority.

As his "inner demon," the devastation Fu Qian suffered in exile would indeed be retained without any discount. This was also the core logic behind using it to "refine" him—but what about ownerless transcendent items?

Was there even the slightest chance they could survive?

Facts proved that being a little optimistic wasn't bad—it was even quite good.

Putting the Bell away, Fu Qian picked up a paper cup near Master Yuhun. There wasn't a single scorch mark on it.

The power of the Ten Thousand Fools was terrifying to this degree. It was just a pity that the wine had still completely spilled out.

"You're right."

With a soft sigh, Fu Qian actually accepted Master Yuhun's suggestion and canceled his Mythical Form.

After sniffing the scent in the paper cup, blood gushed from a wound on his hand, filling it up once more.

He didn't feel the urge to vomit, which meant the three-hour negative effect period hadn't even arrived yet.

...

"It looks like you still refuse to give up. I admit, your performance is truly shocking..."

"But precisely because of this, you should also know that as long as I arrive here too, you won't have any chances left. This place cannot serve as an Anchor Point to support your existence."

Just as Fu Qian took a small sip, Master Yuhun looked at his broken body and expressed incomprehension toward this stubbornness.

"And you were guaranteed to arrive, weren't you?"

Although Master Yuhun remained seated, Fu Qian showed no intention of coveting the throne. The next moment, he simply sat on the ground, holding the paper cup and looking up at the sky.

What a pity. Before, there had been no shadow to drink with, and now even the Dark Moon was gone.

Dying on the night of the assassination meant he lost, but surviving it to enter the true Abandoned Prison would bring his opponent in as well.

This kind of development was far too normal.

Don't forget that even this encounter was based on the Master's Idealist Authority, and absolutely nothing could sever the bond between them.

Fu Qian didn't think there was any way to avoid this kind of harvest-reaping behavior.

"Of course. I came to accept this gift from you."

"Melia" had lost nearly half her skin, yet she still displayed the absolute composure of an idealist, remaining perfectly still.

"I actually thought you would risk your last bit of strength to try and kill me just now."

Not only that, but he even made a joke, blinking his tiny remnant of an eyelid.

"Would it be of any use?"

Fu Qian still didn't look at him.

"I can't say it would be completely useless... After all, this isn't a puppet, but a true part of me that will also perish.

"In fact, because I restricted Melia's Rank to Tier 2, the rate of perishing here might be even faster than yours."

Master Yuhun's response sounded astonishingly honest.

"But don't worry. The venue you chose is very suitable; the answer will definitely be found here... King of the Abandoned Prison. Among the many titles I have held, it's not the most bizarre.

"So, in order to prove to you who the King of the Abandoned Prison is, even if Melia dies, there will be others to continue sitting here until you thoroughly perish as well. For example, Ramon."

Following Master Yuhun's soft introduction, another figure unexpectedly manifested out of thin air beside the throne.

Dressed entirely in black, his attire was even more refined than Melia's. On his relatively ordinary face sat a meticulously trimmed mustache, though his eye sockets contained dark red pinpricks of light.

Another Tier 2.

"Because of our special connection, we will only endure a single share of the burning between us. Even if you want to kill us, you can only do so one by one—if you think you can still manage it."

Upon being introduced, Ramon even took off his hat to salute, radiating elegance. And sure enough, his body showed no signs of burning.

"There is also Abomination, Boethiah, Typhon—"

Before Fu Qian could respond, Melia continued pointing to the other side. One figure after another manifested; some weren't even humanoid.

"Oh."

Yet, just as he pointed to the last one, Fu Qian suddenly spoke up.

"...You know them?"

With the entire left half of her gums exposed to the air, Melia still expressed surprise.

"I suppose I do now."

Fu Qian sighed, looking at the Parchment in his hand.

It truly was a rather nice item.

When setting pen to it, not only could he directly detect eligible targets nearby, but he even got their names.

"Quite a few people came. I'm very gratified."

Musing aloud, Fu Qian's finger, dipped in the bloody wine, flew across the Parchment to complete the final stroke, and he delivered his last words to Melia and the rest.

"But I'm sorry, you are facing the immortal King of the Abandoned Prison. No power can change this, and any effort on your part will only make you realize it."

You aren't the only one with the power of imagination.

The Record of Recollection allowed its writer to join in any state of existence they had previously experienced, as long as it was below Tier 2.

For instance, during his time in the Sacred Night Capital, when he swallowed Eternity: no matter what kind of distortion he endured, his state would always regress back to himself.

It could even carry eleven additional people, which meant the current quota was more than enough.

Let's start another round, bear witness to true immortality, and realize the essence of an inner demon.

...

[A message came from the withered leaf...]

At a certain moment, the ending written on the fragmented scroll was being rapidly polished.

Meanwhile, the King of the Abandoned Prison leaned against the dilapidated throne, facing the desolate burning of a thousand years in the gloom all alone.

[In the distant Abandoned Prison, its master finally returned after thousands of years, once again becoming the king of the displaced ones.]

[The Flame of Ill Omen was extinguished by His will, returning to His mighty power.]

[And the people who had been abandoned by the gods in the Long Night, and who had also abandoned themselves, even after suffering a thousand years of scorching fire—their flesh and blood that had turned to sand still trembled as before, rejoicing as before.]

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