Eldritch Horror Theatre

Filters really were important.

Nothing had visibly changed, yet everything felt different.

As the Greatsword drove deeper into the red sand, the entire feel of the Nightmare shifted completely.

In theory, the light had only grown a bit dimmer and the temperature a bit colder.

But at a glance, the scene of decaying corpses in the Dead Sea—originally a vision of extreme distortion and rot—was suddenly overwhelmed by a desolation like standing on Pluto.

The headless Armor kneeling there looked like a human effigy, executed and abandoned in deep space.

As for the executioners, they were undoubtedly himself and the Witch beside him.

Though she no longer held the murder weapon, her relaxed demeanor and imposing presence effortlessly conveyed what it meant to be a Sovereign.

Amidst his silent praise, Fu Qian inspected the heavy helmet in his hand. Stepping forward in the posture of an accomplice, he hung it on the sword's hilt.

Having watched his every move, the Sovereign of this realm, the Witch, finally spoke.

"Can we go anywhere?"

Fu Qian blinked and asked in return, knowing this level of exertion was barely anything to her.

"In a sense, yes. While the mind might be fragile and fickle, it easily blurs boundaries. From here, we don't need a carriage to reach anywhere in Inner Laerdin."

The Witch waved her hand as she spoke.

A strange noise echoed. The red sand beneath their feet began to flow again—and in more than one place.

Fu Qian took a step back, staring at the spot where he had just stood as bulges erupted from the ground like tombstones springing up after a spring rain.

Indeed, they were massive and incredibly familiar. Tearing through the flowing sand were the very stone steles seen all over the Ruins.

The one right in front of him was only an average size; further away, the colossal type carried by the Giant King also came into view.

Though their shapes were similar, their contents had changed.

Some were splattered with blood, others covered in shattered indentations, and a few looked exactly like fossils, displaying bizarre biological patterns...

In the blink of an eye, the surroundings took on the eerie atmosphere of a graveyard.

"This is where we just came from."

The Witch pointed at one of the steles, taking on the role of a tour guide.

"This one should be that psychiatric hospital you stayed in."

After examining it, she gestured to another one nearby.

To Fu Qian, it seemed the Witch wasn't identifying them by reading their contents, but through her perception—like listening for movement behind a closed door.

...

So the transit channels had gone from carriages to this abstract tombstone format? Could they just touch one to teleport over?

Combined with her previous words, the explanation was clear enough to Fu Qian.

This place was undoubtedly fragile; it was a miracle that such a precarious balance had been maintained for so many years.

As for easily blurring boundaries, that went without saying. Wasn't that exactly how Madam Xia took a wrong turn during her Descent?

However, stringing those two concepts together suddenly sparked an idea in Fu Qian.

The Witch's comment about the mind easily blurring boundaries was clearly inspired by the manifestation of this Nightmare.

But hadn't he just been wondering why the sea of mind—a fragile place for a higher entity—could connect to so many places?

Blurring boundaries... Could there be boundaries between other concepts besides just reality and unreality?

And by using a method similar to this one, could they form special channels leading to the Unseen Hill, Akons, the Land of Fallen Gods—or even wherever that entity's body had gone after its blood loss?

Glancing at the Armor partially hidden in the forest of steles, Fu Qian formed a rough theory about the significance of the sea of mind in that entity's ritual: he had needed the sea of mind to help connect to a certain place during the ritual.

In the end, he had discarded this waste product while his purer physical body arrived at that destination.

"As for that one, it should be the Underground Base of the Fallen Stars. So, where do you want to go?"

Pointing at the largest stele, the Witch clearly had no intention of introducing them one by one. Seeing that Fu Qian wasn't particularly interested, she left the choice entirely up to him.

"Do you even have to ask? We're heading back to the West District Church, of course."

Fu Qian simply swept his gaze across the steles before dismissing all of them.

"Look at the time. We've worked hard enough; it's time to clock out and have some tea."

...

Huh?

Clearly, even the Witch was a bit surprised this time.

Obviously, there was no West District Church in Inner Laerdin. That place only existed in the real world's apocalypse and in Painted Laerdin—and the former definitely wasn't a place for tea.

"You're not in a hurry?"

Having pushed for efficient exploration the entire way, the Witch was suddenly curious about the Knight's plans.

Even though he was 'stronger' now, forcing his way here meant he still wasn't immune to certain negative effects that accumulated over time, not to mention his current sensory restrictions.

Theoretically, he needed to move as fast as possible to avoid unnecessary danger, minimizing his time spent here just like last time.

That was why, despite their casual banter and serious discussion about his appearance earlier, she had never slacked off in advancing their main objective.

"I'm not in a hurry."

Yet the Dark Moon Knight genuinely nodded.

"For one thing, I've already accumulated plenty of successful experience. For another, I plan on staying in there a bit longer this time to catch up with some old friends."

Fu Qian was speaking from the heart.

The Nightmare Corridor was a place that had always interested him deeply.

No matter how bizarre it was, and no matter how much a certain bigshot in there hated him, one thing made it impossible to ignore: his ability to perform a Descent here was tied to its power.

What about the former Dark Moon? And the Core of Law that kept bouncing back and forth?

Could the transit channels they used to cross back and forth be similar?

If so, wandering around inside might just help him uncover the secrets of the Long Night.

Thus, from the moment he decided to set out, Fu Qian had already planned his return trip.

Considering his current condition might scare Brother Persuader or His Excellency Arakiel into avoiding him, accumulating a few more negative effects might not actually be a bad thing.

"I see... Then it's time to get some rest. After all, there probably isn't much left to see in Inner Laerdin right now."

The Knight's thoughts were surprisingly unrestrained. After her initial surprise, the Witch slipped back into a lazy posture, raising no objections to clocking out.

Before her voice even faded, the red sand, the stone steles, and the Armor quietly vanished.

By the time the scene re-formed, the lighting was bright.

...

The grand hall, the connected pews.

Before them was undoubtedly the top floor of the West District Church in Painted Laerdin.

"So, have you decided where to get tea?"

Leaning against the main seat, the Witch rested her cheek on her hand. She hadn't even bothered to pull out the Brain Fork before inquiring about their plans.

"Of course."

How could he fail to plan for something like that? The First Apostle immediately nodded.

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