Eldritch Horror Theatre

Confidence did not mean underestimating the enemy.

Only by tailoring the approach to the situation could he maximize his gains while keeping costs and risks to a minimum.

Take the current situation, for instance. Even though the Precept Angel was clearly on its home turf, it had practically no chance to escape.

Through clever design and passive resistance, he had let his own situation deteriorate to an absurdly critical degree in a very short amount of time.

However, this also meant the Precept Angel had appeared right in front of him with astonishing efficiency.

Under these circumstances, the only hidden risk of this operation—that the Precept Angel might be scared off, forcing them into a game of hide-and-seek—had been almost entirely averted.

The result was even better than if it had gone straight for the Witch. After all, this was the Lightless Night; in that scenario, there might not have been such a perfect opportunity to unleash it.

And as things stood now, it seemed he still wouldn't have to lift a finger.

"Your clothes are torn."

This night of absolute darkness, invoked as an authority of the Dark Moon, was clearly meant to do far more than merely trap a target.

The Witch had manifested from within it at the first opportunity, honoring her earlier promise that she would handle things.

Though the focus of her greeting was a bit strange.

"It doesn't matter. This makes me look less like a manufactured artifact."

Given the total lack of visibility, Fu Qian naturally couldn't see where his clothes were torn.

But as he always said, one's mind couldn't afford to be rigid.

He simply reached out and patted himself down, quickly locating the damage and gouges.

Fu Qian clearly didn't mind the newfound damage.

"Fair point. It makes it seem even more valuable."

His reasoning had evidently convinced the Witch. In the darkness, he could almost picture her giving a slight nod.

"The Precept Angel seems to have gone awfully quiet."

Fu Qian turned his curiosity to this new question.

He had to admit, it was rather unusual.

The moment the darkness had enveloped the area, their target hadn't lashed out in a frenzy like a caged beast caught in a trap.

Instead, the lightning, the dragging force, the searing heat... all the oppressive sensations from earlier had vanished in an instant.

The entirety of the dark expanse sounded utterly silent.

It was as if their prey had already vanished, leaving the trap-setting hunters entirely fooled.

"It is searching for us. I provided a bit of concealment."

The Witch offered a calm explanation.

...

Just as he thought.

It felt like the Lightless Domain was just as much of a home turf for the Dark Moon.

Aside from the absurd ability to manifest directly from within it, the concealment effect he had witnessed before was being effortlessly replicated.

Fu Qian mentally evaluated the situation upon hearing the Witch's explanation.

And with that, the Precept Angel's behavior was easy to understand.

Even if it was driven by a chaotic instinct to slaughter, that didn't mean it wouldn't choose to remain quiet under these conditions.

His earlier concerns about the target escaping had apparently been entirely justified.

Of course, that raised another question: just how long could the Witch maintain this Lightless Prison?

"That should do it. Hold this for me."

Fu Qian's curiosity was quickly satisfied.

As the Witch whispered those words, Fu Qian realized something had been pressed into his hand.

It was freezing to the touch and quite heavy. Falling back on his earlier trick, he felt its surface and found it genuinely had the shape of a book.

Interesting. A slight chill in the dark of night seemed perfectly normal—but being this freezing was another matter entirely.

Even as Fu Qian examined the object, it felt as though not just the item in his hands, but everything around them was rapidly plunging into an eternal freeze alongside the darkness.

...

It felt seemingly familiar. Back in the previous Nightmare, when the Witch had frozen that shattered sea of mind, a similar phenomenon had occurred.

But it was only similar; the scale was leagues apart.

Compared to what was before him now, the impact he had felt back then couldn't even be considered a light frost.

This had long since transcended the realm of ordinary cold. To Fu Qian, it felt almost as if the Lightless Darkness was infecting other concepts entirely.

It was a state of absolute, deathly stillness, as though space and time had reached the end of the universe.

Even without being the direct target, Fu Qian could still feel himself being dragged into its effect.

Specifically, even his usual face-sculpting trick didn't seem quite so responsive at the moment.

Fu Qian even suspected that some transcendent items of a slightly lower Rank might simply lose their effectiveness entirely.

Was this why even the Pope had needed some preparation before casting it?

The Witch hadn't taken action very often since he had met her. Paying no mind to his own slight discomfort, Fu Qian found the display incredibly eye-opening.

Of course, while monitoring his own condition, he didn't forget to pay attention to the object he had been asked to hold.

Crack—

And the conclusion was that it was a very good thing he was holding it.

The object clearly belonged to the category of transcendent items he had just thought about, and its current state seemed to be proving his deduction right.

Under the brunt of the impact, not only had it fallen into that same deathly stillness, but Fu Qian almost heard the sound of it fracturing.

It was as if its original structure was being forcibly ripped apart, like flowing water rapidly solidifying into ice crystals...

Even the act of gripping it in his hands couldn't halt the transformation.

On the contrary, he seemed to have joined in the process himself.

It was as if a rhythm originating from his own body had merged into the turbulent resonance echoing through its crystalline structure, working together to reshape its foundation.

As for how he could suddenly perceive all this when his inspiration was sitting at zero?

Simple. It was purely tactile.

Just like the fracturing of the book, the turbulent resonance of this reshaping could genuinely be felt through the hands pressing against it—and he could also feel that another hand was now resting on it.

"The results seem quite good."

Who else could it be? A moment later, the Witch's voice drifted over.

...

"It is done."

The ancient, deathly stillness of the darkness hadn't actually lasted very long.

They had barely held the book together for half a minute before the Witch's voice rang out again.

Along with her words, the Lightless Night abruptly came to an end, vanishing without a trace.

"That's quite a transformation."

Judging by the Witch's words, the plan had been a success.

Fu Qian naturally looked down at what he was holding and let out a heartfelt sigh of amazement.

Even though he hadn't seen what it looked like before, it definitely hadn't looked like this.

First of all, it truly was a book. A quick glance at the cover revealed a classic red-and-white color scheme.

Fine, hair-like threads intertwined and nested together, outlining a beautifully eerie pattern.

More importantly, the material of the cover felt like real skin. It possessed none of its previous icy stiffness; instead, it felt soft to the touch, even carrying a faint trace of warmth.

Wasn't this reshaping a little too extreme? Had she literally skinned His Excellency the Precept Angel?

Still marveling at the thought, Fu Qian raised his head to look forward.

Fading away alongside the darkness was the Mist before his eyes.

And there, within his much clearer field of vision, a figure that shared those same red-and-white hues—but with a far more exaggerated visual impact—appeared.

It looked like countless tiny, textured spheres. Joined by their intricate patterns, the spheres clustered together like stars, combining to form one massive star...

Which then combined into an even larger one...

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