Eldritch Horror Theatre

Its flow was still warm.

Fu Qian was already standing at the edge of the hall, sparing him from taking the brunt of it.

But as the vanguard Knight, how could he let the Pope touch such a profane substance?

Before the blood even hit the ground, Fu Qian had already taken a step forward, blocking the Witch behind him.

He even reached out and caught the day's first spray of arterial blood.

"Yes, yes... just like that!"

His action seemed to thrill Liang Shangjun, who laughed maniacally from his high vantage point.

"Touch it! Feel it! This isn't just ordinary blood! This is something those idiots never had the right to see!"

'Could you fix your terrible habit of offering zero actual information when you speak?'

Despite Liang Shangjun's passionate delivery, he still failed to win over his audience.

Fu Qian shook his head inwardly, though he didn't forget to rub the blood between his fingers.

He had to admit, although the color was vibrant, the coagulation factor was incredibly strong. He could even feel gelatinous clots in the liquid.

Not only that, but even with his current Tier 2 strength, the blood flowing beneath the skin of his own palm seemed to feel this call to stagnate, growing sluggish and heavy.

This heaviness even spread throughout his entire body, as if he were turning into stone—or perhaps a stele?

'Truly astonishing. Could this be the legendary power of cholesterol?'

Fu Qian marveled to himself.

Jokes aside, this substance undoubtedly possessed a very high Rank.

Without restoring his true Rank, he might not be immune to its influence.

But that wasn't the only interesting part.

At the very beginning of this Nightmare journey, when they first entered that peculiar hospital, he had discussed the concept of Nightmare pillars with the Witch.

Although boiling blood disease inflicted immense torment on both the Nightmare's Natives and its intruders, it remained the very foundation of this realm's existence.

The blood before his eyes—or rather, what it represented—seemed to be a similar concept. It was the very foundation of this Nightmare.

And naturally, one couldn't help but wonder about its connection to the "blood loss" accumulating within the two of them.

"Do you feel it? Do you? Heh... Those fools have no idea what's waiting out there, yet they delusionally try to clear the passage and crawl their way out."

Liang Shangjun's laughter echoed on, laced with undeniable schadenfreude.

...

The voice came from the other side of the dome. After smashing open a gap with his head, Liang Shangjun had quickly scurried out of sight.

Right now, he clearly gave the impression of revealing his true colors—completely dropping the act.

This, in turn, answered the earlier question of whether he belonged to the extreme faction or the Conservative Faction: he was the Extreme Conservative Faction.

He was terrified of the "blood" outside. His claim of being a fellow seeker of the sea of mind had merely been an act. His proactive appearance had indeed been a misdirection.

By comparison, it sounded like the Stele-Bearing King from earlier was the true fellow seeker, yearning to reach beyond the Ruins.

"Is that so? But when I made my move, they were indeed carrying their steles all the way up here."

However, Fu Qian wasn't one to overlook details. He immediately pointed out the contradiction, gesturing toward the shattered chain links on the ground.

"It doesn't matter—good riddance! You have no idea how exhausting it is to stop those idiots."

Bringing up the massacre only seemed to please Liang Shangjun; he was more than happy to see them dead.

"They barely have any brains left, yet they constantly try to climb higher... Scurrying up here time and time again, desperately trying to clear a path."

Struggling to contain his emotions, Liang Shangjun crawled in circles along the dome, his voice and movements frantic with anxiety.

"You don't know how impossible it is to reason with them... You don't know how much effort it took to change their minds, tricking them into using more of their steles to barricade the exit instead!"

"And because they don't always listen, they periodically move some of the rubble away, meaning the breach is never truly sealed."

...

So the Stele-Bearing Kings had originally come to clear the rubble, but ended up as the ones fortifying the barricade instead?

Depending on whether Liang Shangjun's deception succeeded, they were constantly flipping between the two roles?

Life truly was full of endless possibilities.

In that case, those anthropomorphic tombstones below that all faced the same direction—were they driven by the same longing?

How perfectly abstract. It truly fit the description of something suspected to be the remnants of the sea of mind.

As he listened to Liang Shangjun's frantic rant, Fu Qian remained entirely unfazed by the creature's anxiety.

Through rapid analysis, he gained a deeper understanding of the blurred boundaries between individuals and objects in this realm.

It was easy to picture the scene: this strange creature hanging from the dome, endlessly chattering at the passing giants.

After all, he had just tried the exact same trick on the two of them.

This same blurred boundary was evident even in the illusion Liang Shangjun was currently displaying.

He hadn't actually shattered the dome. The scene playing out before them was merely a simulation.

'There are terrifying things outside! Whatever you do, don't open the door! If you don't believe me, let me open it and show you!'—no matter how deranged he was, no one would ever try to convince people with logic like that.

"As a character akin to the Natives of this Nightmare, he has materialized his own fear and shared it with us."

"Achieving this is normally quite difficult. You could say this is yet another testament to the unique nature of this Nightmare."

The Witch, who had remained silent for some time, casually offered her own assessment.

With Fu Qian blocking the front, not a single drop of blood had stained her wide hat brim. Even so, staring at the blood pooling at her feet didn't hinder her from evaluating the danger within it.

"Although it is only an illusion, the power attached to it is highly unusual. It should be deeply connected to the 'blood loss' accumulating in our bodies. I suspect it might be the core foundation of this Nightmare."

"He's right to be afraid. If they were to venture outside and face the true power behind this illusion, they might genuinely be unable to withstand it."

"Of course, this is merely a preliminary deduction. The illusion is fraught with interference, and the sensation is simply too weak."

Undoubtedly, her thoughts showed that great minds think alike, perfectly mirroring Fu Qian's own.

"You hear that? It's too weak! Try a little harder!"

Listening to her, Fu Qian immediately yelled up at Liang Shangjun, who was still scurrying in circles.

"Are you sure?"

He even froze in his tracks, his tone thick with disbelief.

"Haha... Since you insist!"

Seeing Fu Qian's expressionless face, however, he quickly recalled the lesson he had learned earlier. Abandoning his pointless questions, he erupted into maniacal laughter.

Mid-laugh, he directly gouged out one of his own eyeballs and hurled it into the thick flow of blood.

As the eyeball bobbed and rolled in the blood, it kept staring fixedly in Fu Qian's direction—and then came more eyes.

Like a spilled cup of passion fruit juice, the bloody tide instantly sprouted eye after eye.

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