Eldritch Horror Theatre

The longbow was shattered.

The mysterious First Generation Dark Moon—the mastermind behind numerous incidents and an ancient higher entity spanning two realms—was seeing its only remaining imprint in the Nightmare collapse at an alarming rate.

Regardless of his rapid flip-flopping, and even if he could temporarily be considered an ally, Excellency Damon Moore clearly still harbored strong resentment toward the corruption eroding him.

Yet this corruption, despite being so deeply hidden, was incredibly fragile, completely unable to withstand the decay brought on by that rain of fire.

Yet, much like an armless sculpture reaching new artistic heights, this figure—despite its ruined face—radiated a holy affection that grew increasingly breathtaking by the second.

So much so that as Fu Qian stood before him, the act of spontaneously taking the Witch's hand felt rather bizarre.

"So that's how it is."

However, the Witch didn't seem to find it strange at all, allowing the Knight to hold her hand.

She turned to look at the Small Doll floating in the void, then let out a soft sigh.

Its delicate lines and desolate colors all began to shift. In that moment, it resembled swirling stars and rippling water.

And in less than a breath's time, Fu Qian witnessed a seemingly familiar scene.

Two Small Dolls.

Just like how the Church and the Full Moon Garden had overlapped earlier, two nearly identical images were now superimposed upon each other.

Even with his sharp eyes, Fu Qian couldn't spot any distinct differences.

However, it wasn't hard for him to deduce where the difference lay—

"I almost took the wrong path. Thankfully, you remained clear-headed."

Sparing no praise for her Knight, the Witch reached out toward one of the images.

The image she selected seemed almost flattered. It instantly blurred, rippling far more violently than before.

Indeed, one was real and one was fake.

The situation was blatantly clear. The Prisoners wouldn't allow the real one to be chosen—

"Quiet!"

But it seemed they had forgotten that Fu Qian still had one hand free.

As he casually reminded them to mind their public manners, a golden flame—thousands of times more dazzling than the rain of fire—ignited along his entire arm.

In his raised palm, acting as the ultimate focal point for this power, a sphere materialized from the void.

...

It was impeccably round.

He wasn't just tooting his own horn—in that moment, even Fu Qian was captivated by its geometric beauty.

Not only was it overwhelmingly more vibrant, but in sheer expressive presence, Excellency Damon Moore's rain of fire wasn't even in the same dimension anymore.

Even though it was made of burning flames, a single glance was enough to feel the surging destruction churning within.

Yet, the interlacing tongues of fire coalesced with exquisite precision into a perfectly formed sphere.

He hadn't intentionally forced this visual spectacle. After all, he was currently in his Mechagodzilla form—any random transformation was already brimming with geometric beauty.

In any case, this incomprehensible interlocking operation seemed to grant the Golden Sphere a load-bearing capacity far beyond common logic.

Mystery, destruction, and searing heat... The Flame of Frenzy belonging to the King of the Abandoned Prison was condensing inside it with maddening efficiency. A Destruction Nova was taking shape.

It was completely impossible to predict when it would detonate. It felt as though it could obliterate everything in its vicinity at any second—until the rain stopped.

The Golden Sphere rolled in Fu Qian's hand, and time seemed to freeze.

At some point, Excellency Damon Moore's fiery temper seemed to have pacified itself. The wrathful, destructive rain abruptly cleared up.

The collapse of the riddled Church, however, was still underway.

Fortunately, as the Witch's fingertips slowed inch by inch, the selected image seemed to lose its tense agitation.

...

Under the overwhelming deterrence of the Golden Sphere, the remaining four prisoners seemed to finally remember that the companion of the person they were trying to drag down was a player renowned for absolute destruction.

Furthermore, the Flame of Frenzy in his hand specialized in attacking the mental plane, and everything before their eyes essentially belonged to the realm of dreams.

If it were truly detonated from within, unleashing rampant frenzy, whether it would compromise the prison's stability was up for debate—but the fate of anyone trapped inside would certainly be grim.

It might have looked somewhat irrational. After all, he could ruin everything, causing the Tyrant to lose all hope of escape as well.

But after a fierce internal struggle, The Prisoners clearly and quickly reached a consensus: they didn't even have the right to gamble on whether the Tyrant was just bluffing.

Their target hadn't been fully dragged into the depths yet. Compared to old inmates like them, their target's connection to The Corridor was undoubtedly far weaker.

If things went south, he would suffer much less blowback, and his chances of finding an escape route amid the chaos would be significantly higher—not to mention that the Dark Moon had already locked onto an Anchor Point outside.

Meanwhile, they wouldn't even be able to hide easily. Since earlier, the fragmented Damon Moore had helped open a pathway, forcing them to confront the Tyrant directly—and that "door" was still standing right there.

It could only be said that this seemingly insane act occurred at a fleeting, perfect moment, producing an unparalleled deterrent effect.

Any later, and the two of them would have been too deeply bound to this place. Any earlier, and the outside Anchor Point wouldn't have been locked, lowering their chances of escaping in the chaos and leaving The Prisoners with enough leeway to gamble on mutual destruction.

Basically, if they didn't want the Tyrant to follow through, they had better stop pulling their petty little tricks.

What followed was a race between two countdowns: whether the Witch could reach it before they fully sank into the Nightmare.

The speed at which her fingertips extended toward the outside grew slower and slower, a clear manifestation of The Corridor's confinement effect taking hold—until it was enough.

At a certain point, the Little Nelgria in the targeted image actually raised her hand on her own, reaching out.

"It is done."

Their fingertips met, and the Witch spoke softly.

...

"Good."

Pulling chestnuts from the fire was officially a success, and Fu Qian was quite satisfied with this outcome.

At this moment of farewell, it was obvious that his old friends were rather reluctant to see him go.

Their reluctance was made evident by the way all commotion abruptly ceased, returning everything to a deathly silence.

It couldn't help but remind him of when he first arrived—how they had all hidden in their rooms, unwilling to show their surging emotions.

"Thanks for the hospitality."

Even someone as cold-hearted as Fu Qian couldn't avoid a faint twinge of parting sorrow.

Giving the Witch a slight nod, he let out a soft sigh by way of goodbye.

As space and time shifted, he tossed the Golden Sphere—which had stopped accumulating power earlier—toward a silver door instead of taking it with him.

It was the gateway belonging to Excellency Serpent of Destiny, which Damon Moore had helped manifest earlier in hopes that they would pay a visit.

Even as its creator, dismantling such a weapon of mass destruction wasn't easy. Since Excellency Serpent of Destiny possessed numerous methods, he might as well accept it as a little souvenir.

At the final moment, Fu Qian seemed to hear a roar directly beside his ear.

...

"There seems to be a slight issue with the coordinates."

Although full of emotion, the roar honestly hadn't sounded very pleasant. Fortunately, the Witch's voice immediately followed.

As for the unexpected turn of events she announced, it didn't sound too serious—in fact, this place wasn't bad at all.

Fu Qian surveyed the small, empty room, his gaze landing on a Deck Chair not far away.

Indeed, this was the special dreamscape suspected to belong to the First Generation Dark Moon.

"Your final move was the right call. That guy hid himself very well and was trying to slip out alongside us."

He looked up. The Witch's complexion seemed paler than before.

"Breaking the blockade" sounded easy enough, but they had been facing the desperate resistance of four higher entities.

However, the Witch clearly didn't treat it as a big deal. Instead, the very first thing she did was validate Fu Qian's actions.

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