Eldritch Horror Theatre

"Where to?"

No matter how mild Fu Qian's tone was, the sudden pivot was far too jarring.

It was so jarring that the Persuader, who had seemed entirely bereft of speech, couldn't help but speak up for his own rights.

Not only was he forced into appearing at the first summons, but his job duties had already been assigned before he could even process the situation.

Even for a Nightmare, this was a bit too bleak.

"Anywhere is fine. Don't worry about us not being able to afford admission."

Fu Qian's response remained as easygoing as ever as he exchanged a glance with the Witch.

She stayed silent, clearly having no objections to the arrangement.

"Aren't you afraid I have ulterior motives, that I might lead you somewhere dangerous... into the traps they laid?"

"Relax. Even if you didn't have ulterior motives, you would still lead us right into a trap."

Fu Qian waved him off, retaining his easygoing demeanor even as his words cut right to the bone.

His meaning was simple: there was no need to worry about subjective malice, because even if the Persuader didn't intend any harm, he lacked the spine to prevent it.

...

The Persuader was visibly struck by this. For a dignified God Corroder, his sense of powerlessness was palpable.

In truth, Fu Qian's remark contained no real malice.

It was an objective judgment based on the current situation. If he didn't believe that, there would have been no reason to summon the Persuader back in the first place.

Their interactions thus far had proved the Persuader was already deeply poisoned by The Prisoners, to the point that his personality had splintered into multiple pieces.

He might be capable of normal conversation right now, but a psychotic break could strike at any moment.

Acting as a guide in this state, he couldn't actively cooperate even if he wanted to.

Whatever route they took would inevitably reflect the will of The Prisoners—which was exactly what he wanted.

One had to learn how to throw the problem back at the enemy.

From the beginning, he had operated under the assumption that his entire exchange with the Witch was being broadcast directly to The Prisoners.

And he was confident they had fully grasped the resolve the two of them conveyed.

Neither side was easily intimidated. Under high pressure, the Prisoner Alliance certainly wouldn't disband just like that, but they wouldn't remain as steady as Mount Tai, either.

Instead of wandering around aimlessly, it was better to hand the guiding duties over to them and see what moves they made.

As he had mentioned earlier, time was short. They needed to act efficiently, and that included forcing the situation to deteriorate efficiently.

And if The Prisoners decided to lead them in circles? That would just mean the pressure wasn't high enough yet.

No matter what the Persuader did next, Fu Qian was confident he could force The Prisoners onto the right track soon enough.

He believed the Witch felt the same way, understanding and supporting this accelerated plan.

"Fine..."

Unfortunately, the person in question still seemed a bit slow on the uptake.

Faced with Fu Qian's overly sharp critique, the Persuader's expression went through a spectacular array of shifts before he let out a cold laugh.

Yet he didn't refuse Fu Qian's proposal. He simply turned around and took the lead.

...

The order of the doors hadn't changed.

True to his word, as he watched the Persuader step into the dense fog, Fu Qian followed alongside the Witch, leaving the room behind.

As they ventured outside and pressed forward, the scene beneath the thick fog looked somewhat distorted, but its overall outline remained intact.

Along the way, even the sequence of the doors matched the upper level perfectly. The chaos seemed entirely confined to the larger door up ahead—and, of course, to the increasingly loud bellowing of an ox.

Clack!

Just as Fu Qian came to that conclusion, the Persuader halted and pulled open the door in front of them.

The reason behind this specific choice was undoubtedly the result of a complex psychological struggle, one that Fu Qian had no intention of deciphering.

But once the iron-black door swung open, the overwhelming bellowing that assaulted them was impossible to ignore.

It really was Sister Ox-Head?

Indeed, the bellowing was deafening, agitating the surrounding fog until it surged like a violent tide.

Amid the roiling mists, the very figure he had just been recalling materialized.

Angled toward them was a woman clutching a massive yellow ox head. She slowly raised it high amidst the deep, drawn-out bellowing, as if praying to some invisible entity above.

Naturally, her appearance wasn't exactly the same as when he'd encountered her during that mission.

Both her clothing and her flesh had withered significantly. As for the ox head, aside from the color of its fur, it hardly looked like a yellow ox anymore.

It was clustered with densely packed horns—easily numbering in the double digits at a glance—jutting out in all directions and twisting together into a bizarre spectacle.

Through the wide-open mouth of the ox, some horns could even be seen piercing outward from within.

And this change in appearance clearly brought a corresponding surge in power.

During that past mission, she had only been able to influence a group of ordinary people to line up and pluck off their own heads. But right now, the Persuader, bearing the brunt of the attack, actually seemed to be struggling to withstand it.

"Looks like someone's blocking the way—"

His body stiffened momentarily before he turned around, tossing the problem back to the ones driving him.

But before he could even finish his sentence, the bellowing that bolstered her presence came to an abrupt halt.

It was like a reenactment of the moment the Witch first appeared. The swirling droplets of fog suddenly seemed to be drained of all momentum, suspended perfectly still in the air.

Sister Ox-Head was caught right in the middle of it. Although there wasn't a single trace of frost on her, she stood frozen in place like an ice sculpture.

Crack—

Before the Persuader could even further emphasize the difficulty of the situation, a web of fine cracks bloomed across the hands of their roadblocker, rapidly spreading across her body and the ox head.

What followed looked like an avalanche.

Countless fragmented pieces of flesh began to cascade downward, instantly collapsing into ruin.

By the time the pieces hit the ground, however, they had completely dissolved into the fog, causing it to begin roiling once again.

"Keep going."

The Witch's voice rang out.

...

Sister Ox-Head had been eradicated in the blink of an eye, and the oppressive pressure she had brought naturally vanished with her.

However, the freshly liberated Persuader didn't even utter a word of thanks. He just stood there, staring blankly at the empty space.

It seemed his decision to lead them here still carried a heavy suspicion of a passive slowdown.

However, such was the nature of the Dark Moon Great Power—it never gave petty scoundrels any room to play their little tricks.

As the spectator with the least participation in the scene, Fu Qian noted that the Witch hadn't even moved. Yet, he was absolutely certain this was the Pope's handiwork.

He had to admit, it was incredibly decisive.

Sister Ox-Head had clearly been judged as a low-value target—one not worth communicating with—and had thus been instantly obliterated.

Making The Prisoners reveal their methods was done to showcase their own methods to The Prisoners. The Witch had clearly understood this perfectly.

And he was certain that this renewed display of resolve had been fully received by The Prisoners.

Clack—

To his relief, the heavily shaken Persuader didn't need any further urging from Fu Qian. He stubbornly snapped back to his senses.

Without a word, he lowered his head, passed through the newly unobstructed space, and pulled open another massive door.

A beam of soul-piercing, deep blue light spilled out from within before they even crossed the threshold.

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