Eldritch Horror Theatre

"It really is a unique kind of distortion. Does this trait make you think that after killing Him, He could be made into a book? Why does it feel like the aesthetic doesn't quite match?"

Listening to the Witch's introduction to the Precept Angel, even someone as worldly as Fu Qian found it eye-opening.

At the same time, however, he hadn't forgotten the original purpose of their operation.

"I wouldn't be able to do it alone, but aren't you here too?"

Once she decided to rope him in for help, the Witch was completely unceremonious, directly pointing out Fu Qian's importance.

"In essence, the power of the Precept Angel runs completely counter to the Law of the Stars. Calling it the greatest blasphemy wouldn't be an overstatement.

"And this trait grants Him near-Deity power while rendering Him extremely chaotic. No one actively wants to get involved with Him. He is worthless, yet incredibly difficult to deal with—"

"Oh? Why does that sound a bit like one of the things we saw in the Doll Workshop?"

Fu Qian commented casually, making the connection in an instant.

"It's not surprising. That's exactly where we're going to look for Him in a bit."

Deeply approving of Fu Qian's ability to connect the dots, the Witch pointed at him.

"I remember you mentioning the current correlation between yourself and the Core of Law. If it were just me, killing that guy would bring almost no benefit... But with your support, as long as we add a little something else, I'm fairly confident I can transform Him into a more stable form."

...

Just as he thought. His Misanthropy really did hold a lot of untapped value.

The Witch's explanation lined up perfectly with his own thoughts.

Earlier, upon making contact, he had already discussed the exploration of the Law with the Pope.

It was clear this wasn't just generic guidance. The Pope placed a heavy emphasis on combining theory with practice and had already considered methods of development.

In a sense, by crossing over to this place, he had effectively added another Pseudo-Law Core to the world.

"Besides, you won't need to do anything when the time comes. Just stand by on the sidelines."

The Witch had even accounted for the details, such as the Knight's zero-perception issue.

"Understood. So we set off now? Do we still need a locating method like that bird?"

Although time wasn't pressing, they had already finished both their tea break and the factory tour. Getting back to business made perfect sense.

After all, judging by the sky, they would still have to wait a while for the banquet.

"No need. That place is very easy to find."

Shaking her head, the Witch didn't seem surprised by his enthusiasm. She reached out and grabbed him again.

"However, due to the nature of our target, our landing point might not be very stable. Remember not to move around blindly when we arrive; just let me handle it."

...

It was indeed special.

So where had he ended up? Was this still the mortal realm?

Following the Witch's actions, a familiar sensation washed over him.

When that feeling faded, Fu Qian couldn't help but sigh in genuine awe at the sight before him.

First was the Mist.

It was far thicker than what he had seen in Laerdin. At a glance, it was so dense that two people would probably have to stand nose-to-nose just to recognize each other's faces.

Aside from his vision, Fu Qian wasn't entirely sure if his other senses were affected, but he figured the probability was high.

At the same time, despite the oppressive density, each breath he took held not the slightest hint of moisture. Instead, the air roasted his lungs like molten steel.

However, this matched his previous encounter perfectly, proving once again that they were in the right place.

Now he just needed to find the target, but there was something else wrong here.

Whoosh—

Fu Qian blew a breath of air straight ahead.

Though everything was a chaotic blur, the thick Mist still rolled in response.

But a problem came along with it. The next moment, Fu Qian felt his body decisively sink half a meter.

That was right. He seemed to be standing directly on top of the thick Mist, with absolutely nothing solid beneath his feet.

If he made a major disturbance—like a tidal wave or a tsunami—he felt he would be swept right into The Abyss in the truest sense of the word.

Whoosh—

It was said that the lives of true higher entities were even more exaggerated than the so-called words carrying absolute law.

You didn't even need to speak; things were automatically offered up to you.

There seemed to be an example of that right in front of him.

At that moment, the churning sound abruptly amplified. Fu Qian's newly stabilized body plummeted downward, his falling speed rapidly increasing.

Oh? Has this seat truly become a higher entity already?

It was no longer a normal sense of weightlessness. While silently calculating his falling distance, Fu Qian showed no sign of taking countermeasures, not even manifesting wings to cushion his descent.

After all, the Pope had said it. The situation might be complex, but it was fine as long as he didn't move around blindly.

Recalling this key operational point, Fu Qian turned to look at his left hand.

On his almost fully recovered palm, that smooth touch was still there, falling right alongside him.

This was despite the fact that the Witch hadn't made a single sound the entire time.

Fu Qian stayed silent as well, simply giving his hand a tug toward himself.

Though it was blurry, it wasn't hard to tell that it was a piece of soft flesh laced with fat. It clung to his hand in a peculiar way, creating an incredibly realistic sensation of touch.

There was a reason for her silence: the Witch wasn't there at all.

...

Red and white interspersed—it looked quite nutritionally balanced.

While such a stark visual contrast was certainly bizarre, Fu Qian wasn't in any rush to throw it away, choosing instead to evaluate it fairly.

The Witch had mentioned earlier that the target of this trip was something akin to an amalgamation of numerous distorted flesh and wills. The appearance of such a thing wasn't really strange at all.

The truly shocking part lay in the speed of its appearance.

Almost the instant he arrived, this thing was already holding his hand. There was virtually no transition process to speak of.

The instability of the landing point that the Witch had mentioned was reaching new heights.

It was obvious that even though she had grabbed him when they set off and had successfully brought him here, when it came to the final landing point, the Witch hadn't been in the same place as him from the very beginning.

Yet the physical connection between them had been simulated by a bizarre creation. The process felt incredibly natural, as if it were an inherent attribute of this place.

Furthermore, given his current falling speed, he suspected that the distance between them was still continuously expanding.

Meanwhile, his surroundings remained completely empty, as if he had been thoroughly subjected to banishment.

Theoretically, it wasn't too surprising. The stance the two of them were taking could hardly be considered friendly. As long as the Precept Angel sensed even a hint of them, taking advantage of its home turf to temporarily isolate them from the battlefield and defeat them one by one was undoubtedly a very reasonable choice.

Of course, Fu Qian still didn't move, quietly sensing everything around him.

Slither—

In the end, it was the piece of flesh holding his hand that seemed unable to bear the increasingly deep dive, swimming away into the Mist like a fish.

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