Eldritch Horror Theatre

It wasn't just people and morals—given enough Insight, absolutely anything could be held hostage.

For Fu Qian, regardless of how fierce the incoming threat seemed, the moment his opponent chose to double back, one assumption was practically confirmed: he was still in the Etched Intellect state.

It really wasn't easy to get a glimpse of the place where the Academy had met its catastrophic end all those years ago.

Although he currently lacked Transcendent Perception, his opponent certainly didn't. He had essentially used that fact to reach his conclusion.

And it wasn't the only conclusion. Theoretically, his earlier maneuver had carried a massive risk.

For one thing, if he had guessed wrong, he would have essentially set off fireworks to bid his opponent farewell.

After that, apart from locking on and bombarding them with Calamity, he would have had almost no other way to restrain his opponent.

Furthermore, even if he had guessed right, the Etched Intellect was an incredibly fragile state—calling it paper-thin wouldn't be an exaggeration.

And his series of actions just now had been increasingly brutal. Any single misstep could have torn everything to shreds, costing him this chance to meet his colleague.

And the thrill was even sweeter now that he had guessed right. His gamble had paid off.

The blackmailed target had enthusiastically helped confirm his theory.

It really had been a test of patience. If he had wavered and chosen to give chase, his opponent would have likely just fled entirely.

But now... well, at least he didn't have to worry about paying for property damage.

Surveying the utter devastation around him, Fu Qian mused that the upkeep for such ancient architecture would probably be unreasonably expensive—especially since he had wrecked the place quite thoroughly.

As for the "architectural conservationist" beside him, Fu Qian could only tell from the faint afterimages that its massive bulk hadn't shrunk in the slightest. Only the lower half of its humanoid torso stood visible; the rest remained submerged out of sight.

"Unforgivable sin!"

In response to Fu Qian's friendly greeting, the entity had actually answered.

...

'You really have the nerve to say that looking the way you do?'

Its tone wasn't just hostile; the enunciation was perfectly clear, carrying the absolute weight of a death sentence crashing down on his head.

Having his warm greeting met with such a response left Fu Qian momentarily indignant.

'Who cares about sin? We're all doomed to hell anyway. Do I really need you to remind me?'

The real issue was how it even had the nerve to say that.

Even if he could only see its shadow, it didn't stop Fu Qian from piecing together the contours of the portion visible before him.

The final conclusion was that while it sported the legendary wings of an Angel, absolutely nothing else about it could be considered holy.

Quite the opposite. Deformed, filthy, twisted... the few details he managed to capture seemed like the most direct physical embodiment of those very words.

The massive wings connected to a grotesquely swollen torso, while the arms protruding from it were withered, terrifying, and numbered far more than two.

Even the silhouette of those wings looked grotesque up close. Instead of tightly arranged long feathers, they swayed unsteadily, looking more like elongated strips of flesh stitched onto them.

It could practically be called the antithesis of those legendary, sacred beings. The term "fallen" was truly well-deserved.

Yet here this deformed abomination stood, splaying its monstrous claws as it passed majestic judgment upon him.

It was enough to make him wonder just how awful his own outward appearance must be right now to warrant such a reaction.

'Wait a minute...'

However, as someone who excelled at self-reflection, Fu Qian suddenly realized where the problem lay. Finger Pulp?

To keep his opponent from slacking off after turning back, Fu Qian had never deactivated the halo. It was still sweeping across the surroundings.

Naturally, in such a short span of time, it shouldn't have severely affected an entity of this Rank.

'Is this a case of dying ugly being fine, but losing your integrity being unacceptable?'

Even though it was already an unrecognizable, filthy abomination, did it still find this depraved act too vile to stomach?

In that moment, Fu Qian truly felt his own pettiness for judging by appearances—Sizzle!

The sudden shift before his eyes only seemed to validate the thought.

Accompanied by an indescribably bizarre noise that sounded like grinding metal, Fu Qian noticed that the Crimson Storm enveloping the area had actually changed color.

...

'Seriously?'

If the creature had been backed into a corner and unleashed an ultimate attack to deal another heavy blow to his SAN Value, Fu Qian would have considered it a far more common turn of events.

Yet not only had the opponent completely forgotten to do that, but it also appeared to have joined the storm rather than trying to destroy it?

Since he had obtained the Commandment Residue, he had seen it get completely crushed before, but this was the first time it had mutated on the spot.

In the blink of an eye, streaks of gold seemingly bled into the crimson red, shifting the hue into a legendary golden-orange.

And it wasn't just a change in color. While Fu Qian was absolutely certain that Finger Pulp's effect was still active, there was clearly something new woven inside.

It was as if new clauses had been added to a set of rules.

And these new clauses were extremely unfavorable for him, the lawmaker.

Fu Qian reached out, trying to grab the lampstand he had dropped earlier.

Just as he suspected, his fingers passed right over it, grasping nothing but empty air.

'An alternative form of exile?'

'Because I committed an unforgivable sin, I get an automatic life sentence of imprisonment?'

'I suppose that makes sense.'

Coming to that silent conclusion, Fu Qian couldn't help but sigh.

Honestly, even before reaching out, the mere sensation of standing there had given him a faint hunch.

It was remarkably similar to using Blood Crusade—his ability to interact with the surrounding world seemed to have been prohibited.

He was only standing there right now out of inertia. If he wanted to, he could easily phase right through objects, much like the Fallen Angel before him.

But they didn't even have the chance to repel one another. At the exact moment he reached to pick up the lampstand, one of his opponent's deformed arms had pressed down in the exact same spot, yet neither had interacted.

In short, he appeared to be moving freely, but he was essentially trapped in an alternative prison.

As for why an unforgivable sin only resulted in a life sentence?

This was exactly why he had found it so reasonable earlier.

If the opponent could have easily crushed him to death without worrying about other repercussions, why would it have run away in the first place?

Even if it were truly capable of executing him, could this Fallacy Spacetime actually endure the strain without collapsing entirely?

He couldn't forget that the entity's sole reason for doubling back was to maintain its existence for a little while longer. To put it bluntly, it was using every possible method to reduce his interaction with his surroundings and stop him from causing further chaos.

Given all that, this method of dealing with him was highly appropriate.

Of course, understanding his opponent's choice was one thing, but that wasn't the main issue. In the blink of an eye, the Commandment Residue had mutated, and the new contents were now restricting him in turn.

Didn't that suggest to a certain extent that, just like him, his opponent could manipulate certain special authorities?

Like his own Misanthropy—the symbol of the False Law's essence.

And the corresponding true Law's Existence Core, which had only just returned not long ago.

Was this Angel truly an incarnation of justice, equipped with the authority of judgment?

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