Eldritch Horror Theatre

When your stats were high, your options multiplied. Taking a convoluted route was just disrespectful to yourself.

While it was nowhere near a full-force strike from the King of the Abandoned Prison, it was still enough to make the mighty heavenly dao entity in the center of the Lake tremble.

"Just who exactly are you?"

Fu Qian made it halfway around the remaining semicircle before the Angel of Death finally spoke again. It wasn't an answer—just an emotional outburst.

"So, how far along are you?"

Conversations were a two-way street. Fu Qian didn't even bother reintroducing himself, casually meeting the question with one of his own.

"Almost done... I'll be finished before you can kill them all."

Sounding as if he were speaking through gritted teeth, A Wei finally fired back, refusing to show weakness.

True to his word, new discordant figures emerged from the Mist.

They didn't just block his path. Most actually shot straight up from the bottom of the Lake.

It wasn't surprising. Reckless, self-important adventurism always came with a price.

In a scheme this comprehensive, the opportunists who gambled on slipping through the door first had definitely been factored into the equation.

All their rushing had accomplished was letting the Angel of Death dominate them faster than everyone else.

But a demigod was still a demigod. Even as puppets, they were a cut above the rest.

Unlike the floating specters bound to predictable patrol routes, these retained their combat instincts, actively working to surround and intercept him.

Furthermore, the Death Boundary clearly granted them immunity, showcasing A Wei's absolute control over the Unseen Hill.

"That is pretty fast."

Taking in the scene, Fu Qian nodded at A Wei's progress report and casually threw another punch.

Boom—

It turned out the demigods couldn't handle a compliment. Right after he praised their combat instincts, the one who stepped up to precisely block his path let out a roar and began transforming on the spot.

As a result, before the massive maw on its chest could fully open, it had a fist shoved down its throat. Unable to stomach such a meal, it exploded into a cloud of ash.

'Hmph. Even body horror needs a little taste. That mouth lacked any aesthetic appeal.'

Scoffing inwardly, Fu Qian kept walking without missing a beat.

It was no wonder A Wei was so confident. A moment later, Fu Qian noticed another figure sprinting toward them from the direction of the Prophet Building. A rather familiar figure.

...

Holler?

Familiar in a grotesque sort of way. Running on all fours with sharp claws sprouting from his back, it was the exact same final form the Wanderer from the bar had taken.

If anything, his condition looked slightly better than when Fu Qian had left him.

Just as he had noted before, the man's regenerative abilities were quite impressive.

But this wasn't a good sign. Coming from that direction instead of out of the Lake meant Holler likely hadn't gone through the door.

That meant even the demigods who hadn't walked right into the trap were starting to crack under the pressure.

There was also one specific detail: Holler was running over all alone.

Crystal, who had been furiously trying to heal him earlier, was nowhere to be seen.

Smack!

Swatting aside a winged creature with a casual backhand, Fu Qian kept his eyes fixed on Holler, continuing his march toward the starting point of his circuit around the Lake.

His unwavering pace made it look as if he couldn't wait to give an old friend a proper send-off—perhaps even more than one.

As he drew closer, he could clearly see the clown lounging on the Deck Chair, now perfectly mimicking Yuan Fang's posture.

He was leaning back like a corpse, the exact same black fluid now weeping from his eyes.

'Is this what happens when you disrespect leadership?'

Rather than being turned into a living corpse to join the siege like the others, it looked like he had simply been executed. Given the skills the clown had demonstrated earlier, it felt like a bit of a waste.

But from A Wei's perspective, it made perfect sense.

An uncontrollable, neurotic loose cannon who had already betrayed them mid-battle? It was best to snuff him out immediately.

As a suddenly appointed leader, it never hurt to be cautious.

"How far along?"

Reflecting on the cruelty of their struggle, Fu Qian casually turned two more attackers to dust before finally returning to his starting point. Holler was now just inches away.

Yet, as his gaze fell upon the clown, his first reaction was to check the progress with A Wei.

"Almost done. Ten—"

This time, the answer actually provided a breakthrough.

After repeating his grand promise, the Angel of Death actually gave him a number.

Oh?

Fu Qian finally turned to look.

"Nine—"

In response, A Wei merely counted off another number in a cold tone.

Within the Mist, the demigods and specters began to subtly form a tightening encirclement.

'Interesting.'

Sweeping his gaze over the area, Fu Qian confirmed that Amber was also noticeably absent from the horde crawling out of the Lake.

'Did she really run off somewhere else to search for people? Is that why she didn't get hit right out of the gate? That seems a little too coincidental.'

"Eight—"

While Fu Qian pondered the implications, A Wei's emotionless countdown continued.

With total victory apparently at hand, A Wei couldn't even be bothered to throw out any more threats at an opponent whose actions made absolutely no sense.

He had circled the entire Lake, yet nothing had happened.

All those clever theories about how the ritual worked suddenly felt rather embarrassing.

And in the face of this countdown to failure, his opponent, despite possessing terrifying strength, showed absolutely no intention of rushing in for a desperate final clash.

Nor had he made a move against Sophia, or attempted to destroy the core of this Unseen Hill.

"Seven!"

Not only that, but Andiel had already nonchalantly taken a seat back on the Fright Box, casually swatting away the lunging Holler.

"Six—"

The behavior was just too bizarre. So much so that after gritting his teeth to spit out the next number, A Wei finally seemed to hesitate.

"Five?"

Not that it mattered. Fu Qian helpfully supplied the next number for him.

The Angel of Death remained silent, however, and the advancing demigods seemed to falter in their steps.

"Too mediocre..."

Taking it all in, Fu Qian let out a light sigh and offered a critique he had used once before.

Stopping the countdown with five numbers left might have looked strange, but to a professional, it was glaringly obvious—the countdown was only ever meant to reach six.

A fake countdown? He had pulled that trick back in the Nightmare Corridor. Trying it on him was simply wielding an axe before Lu Ban's gate.

As for why it failed?

"Are you talking about me?"

His excellency the Angel of Death was clearly wondering the exact same thing.

The critique he had once used to judge the Lord now sounded remarkably grating to the ear.

"Yeah—what do you think?"

Fu Qian's response was completely matter-of-fact. He didn't even bother paying attention to A Wei as he added the second half, turning his head instead to look at the clown beside him.

"Indeed, far too mediocre."

And in a truly bizarre twist, the remark actually received an answer. The clown, his eyes shrouded in pitch black, slowly sat up.

Visit and read more novel to help us update chapter quickly. Thank you so much!