Eldritch Horror Theatre

Had all the currently known Nightmares simply been mashed together like modeling clay?

Interesting.

It was easy enough for Fu Qian to picture what the Witch was describing, yet he still found the reality of it to be quite the spectacle.

Ever since his rampage at the Other Shore of the Stars, he had anticipated this. With the collapse of the Law, the Nightmares drawn by Laerdin's reappearance were bound to be affected.

Now that his assumption had been proven right, it was clear there was no going back.

The recreated Laerdin had already been reduced to a painting. Even without that core, the gathered Nightmares still refused to disperse, fusing instead into one massive, unique entity.

The situation had suddenly become much more lively. He had to admit, he was very curious about exactly how they had merged.

More importantly, though, this made exploration much more convenient.

The Witch's point was easy enough to understand.

Any Nightmare that had managed to persist until now undoubtedly contained some lingering Transcendent Tier residue.

Now that they were fused together, it was highly likely that those residual powers were bleeding into one another.

As a result, if any of them truly harbored traces of the Dark Moon, those traces would very likely manifest in the other areas as well.

It was like mixing a bunch of different sodas together—you only needed to take one sip to know if there was full-sugar cola in the batch.

"I see. Let's head out, then."

With that in mind, Fu Qian immediately agreed to the plan of taking a stroll outside.

"Alright."

However, the very Witch who had proposed this plan did the exact opposite a second later, leading him deeper into the courtyard instead.

...

"The Nightmares aren't just stitched together like puzzle pieces on a map?"

Her actions looked quite strange, but as a former Dream Dominator, Fu Qian still retained his vast knowledge on the subject even if his perception was currently compromised. He knew perfectly well that dreams had far too many counterintuitive aspects.

Following her into the equally gloomy courtyard, he glanced at his surroundings and tossed the question out casually.

"Exactly. If you can't find the correct passage, just walking in the same direction will get you nowhere."

The Witch waved her hand casually as she spoke.

"Of course, we could try to force our way through if we really wanted to. The power sustaining it has its limits, after all. But doing that would affect the stability of the dream."

Following her gesture, three vicious dogs that had sensed their arrival and crept out from the deep shadows swiftly scrambled back, pressing themselves flat against the ground without daring to move a muscle.

"There's really no need for that."

While agreeing with her logic, Fu Qian took a moment to study the nearly identical coat patterns on the three dogs.

The similarity wasn't because they belonged to the same breed. There was another reason for it—fire.

Their natural coats ranged from yellow to brown, but the dark streaks crisscrossing their bodies weren't off-colored fur. They were scorch marks.

And they were from a fire burning inside their very bodies.

Boiling blood disease.

The disease that had inflicted such immense agony on the members of the Same Pants Club apparently didn't just target humans.

Judging by the stains around the dogs' muzzles, they had likely eaten something infected and contracted it. A distinct, charred odor also hung in the air.

"A very unique pestilence. The minds dragged into this Nightmare suffer considerable agony."

Following his gaze, the Witch casually offered her assessment.

"The Itchy Crotch Club. That's what I call them."

Fu Qian couldn't help but briefly reminisce about his old acquaintances.

"Given how they were dragged into this, I imagine they must have had at least some level of mental preparation for this kind of suffering."

He was, of course, referring to that particular enthusiast group of twelve who had pooled their money to buy a pair of pants.

A pair of pants made from the skin of an infected patient.

"And the torment they're enduring—that should be the very foundation of this Nightmare's existence, shouldn't it?"

Fu Qian had already formed some guesses about the origins of this place during his last visit, so he took the opportunity to confirm them with the Witch.

"Correct. If the pestilence is eradicated, this Nightmare will disappear along with it."

The Witch signaled that his guess was correct, coming to a halt in front of a black horse-drawn carriage as she spoke.

Was the suffering of one group the very reason for another's existence?

Fu Qian sighed inwardly. He wasn't the least bit surprised by the Witch's intent to use a vehicle. When it came to finding the correct path to other Nightmares, what could be more logical than taking a carriage?

During his last mission, the members of The Order had even mentioned that this very carriage could actually transport patients in from the outside world.

Studying the two silent horses at the front, whose quiet snorts were the only sounds they made, Fu Qian took a step and climbed aboard.

...

It was even a refrigerated carriage.

Though it looked somewhat like a coffin from the outside, the interior was fully equipped.

The only issue was the temperature—compared to the outside, the carriage's interior was quite frigid.

From front to back, the entire cabin was evenly coated in a layer of white frost, making it look exactly like a refrigerated transport vehicle.

Of course, Fu Qian knew that this clash of classical and modern sensations was actually the Witch's doing, rather than the patients requiring cold storage.

Perhaps she had no intention of easily disrupting the dream's stability, but having boarded first, the Witch clearly hadn't minded giving the interior a slight renovation before taking her seat.

As soon as Fu Qian sat down, the carriage door swung shut automatically. The vehicle then lurched into motion, driving out through a side gate in the courtyard.

"So, what is your honorific name in this current state?"

Even though they had indeed plunged headfirst into the Mist, the carriage rocked and bumped as if rolling over a solid road. He could clearly feel the acceleration and the turns, as if they were truly traveling down a main thoroughfare.

Of course, this was simply a byproduct of finding the correct path.

In Fu Qian's estimation, if they had just walked out the gate on foot, they most likely wouldn't have found this road.

Listening to the sounds of their advance, the Witch sitting beside him made full use of the time to confirm a few more details with him.

"King of the Abandoned Prison."

Fu Qian naturally answered her clinical questioning with complete honesty.

"Never heard of it. But when you were manipulating your flesh earlier, your presence felt different from before. How exactly did you achieve this state after going back? Does it have anything to do with the Dark Moon you mentioned?"

The Witch frowned and shook her head, indicating that she likewise had no knowledge of such a god.

"It does. The reason I first established a connection with this form was because, upon advancing to Tier 2, I chose to don the Divine Skin of the King of the Abandoned Prison."

Fu Qian pointed at himself, holding nothing back.

"From what I've gathered, there's good reason to believe He was besieged during the Long Night by several entities—including the Dark Moon—which ultimately led to His fall.

"With the help of an old friend, I managed to relive the events of that era—only this time, They lost, and I managed to make that Skin even more complete."

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