Eldritch Horror Theatre

It even automatically called for backup? The Dragon King truly couldn't be underestimated.

For Fu Qian, let alone this ravaged husk that had been trampled for a thousand years, even a perfectly intact Dragon King wouldn't pose much of a risk to deal with.

Yet, typical of a veteran higher entity, it showed off its vast connections even by accident.

So much so that, as its opponent, he now faced a problem.

Namely, after taking care of the Dragon King, would he have to deal with the Night Watchers as well?

Despite keeping a low profile throughout this scientific expedition, Fu Qian felt it was only a matter of time before the Night Watchers noticed him.

But now, the Dragon King's sudden transformation practically amounted to flipping the table.

In the worst-case scenario, it wouldn't be surprising if the upper echelons of the Night Watchers dropped by for a team-building exercise at any moment.

More crucially, the Dragon King he had taken such great risks to see seemingly lacked any ability to communicate. It retained nothing but the instinct to keep itself "intact"—and perhaps a hatred for the Tyrant?

"Has it always been like this?"

The only comforting thing was that its transformation speed wasn't much faster than Sailor Moon's.

So much so that by the time the coagulated, rotting flesh began to cover its front claws, Fu Qian was already chatting with the man next to him.

...

Brother Apostle, having finished coughing, didn't seem to react.

To be precise, he turned a deaf ear to it. He simply stared at the divine might of his object of faith, completely intoxicated.

But this was exactly why Fu Qian took the initiative to strike up a conversation. One had to look on the bright side: compared to a moment ago, at least his eyes were open now.

"Being this earnest is useless. See, I still received more gifts, and I wasn't rejected either."

Furthermore, Fu Qian kept the conversation going, every word piercing the heart.

At this point, Brother Apostle's train of thought seemed clear: you claim to be the legitimate one, but if you call out to the Dragon King, will it answer?

That's right, the meaning behind that gesture just now likely lay exactly in this.

Just like praying for rain, both sides tried to greet the Dragon King. If the Dragon King gave no response on his end, he would naturally lose the contest.

As for the Dimensional Poison, it would thereby be successfully branded as a stolen item.

Unfortunately for him, after all that, the Dragon King was actually far more enthusiastic toward Professor Fu despite the identical greeting.

...

You call this enthusiastic?

Thanks to Fu Qian's active ice-breaking, Brother Apostle finally seemed to react, turning his head to look over.

Sadly, he remained silent, so Fu Qian could only try to dub his lines for him.

Moreover, although his eyes were open, it was obvious they were completely unfocused, glazed over as if he were sleepwalking.

"Heh, don't believe me?"

Professor Fu, however, was already quite satisfied. He immediately continued his one-sided verbal output, entirely oblivious to the fact that he was bullying someone.

Cough... cough, cough...

Brother Apostle still didn't make a sound. Instead, another string of heavy coughs rang in his ears.

They weren't even his own coughs.

At that moment, the person covering his mouth was astonishingly Fu Qian. Right after speaking, he had clamped a hand over his lips.

As the more favored apostle, the intensity of his coughing was even more miserable.

For instance, compared to the bloody mist the other man had coughed up, the scarlet seeping through Fu Qian's fingers even carried a trace of gold.

A constantly dancing gold, like fire.

"To think that one day, I would be forced to use this blasphemous power..."

Not only was his posture dripping with style, but as he stared at the substance he had spat into his hand, the edginess of Fu Qian's dialogue was also off the charts.

"A rotting corpse manipulated by conspiracy actually dreams of defiling the Golden Throne with a curse..."

The next moment, he looked up at the Dragon King. Confirming that the entity was finally about to finish transforming, Fu Qian pointed a finger at it, his imposing aura peaking.

"Remember what I told you when we first met? Did you think just anyone could sit in this seat?"

Rip—

Along with this earth-shattering question, Fu Qian pressed his bloodstained hand against his chest. Then, his entire body tore open in an exaggerated manner, his flesh twisting and splicing together.

Red blood and golden fire surged into the sky simultaneously. The transformation he hadn't finished earlier initiated once more.

...

Speaking of which, he had quite a history with Brother Dragon King.

That last line about their first meeting naturally referred to the Battle of Dragon Peak.

The giant dragon that attacked back then might not have been the Dragon King, but considering it was part of the latter's pyramid-scheme ritual, rounding it up to count as a meeting didn't seem entirely wrong, did it?

By that calculation, he and the other party had already gone back and forth fighting over this seat several times.

It is lonely at the top... I am a man indifferent to fame and fortune by nature, but since you insist on pressing me so bitterly, we might as well see who the real Dragon King is.

Boom—

Waves of blood surged. At a certain moment, Fu Qian abruptly raised his hand, and two ferocious giant claws clashed together.

...

When it is difficult to keep a low profile, you can consider switching to a different way of being high-profile.

As mentioned earlier, the policy risk brought on by the Dragon King's transformation would easily expose them to the Night Watchers.

And in response to this situation, short of leaving immediately, there didn't seem to be a good way to evade it.

Since that was the case, he simply wouldn't evade it.

The Night Watchers might see it, right? Then let them see a good show.

As everyone knows, a "Dragon King" was already an incredible subject, so what about "The True and False Dragon Kings"?

That's right. Of the two giant claws clashing together, one was ferocious flesh and blood entwined in scarlet, while the other gleamed with a deep blue luster, covered in spikes that looked as if they were cast from refined steel and alloys.

And the latter was connected to Fu Qian's rapidly expanding body.

Wing membranes spread over a mechanical skeleton and dark gold patterns, scales on the body interlocking like layers of metal plate armor, and long horns with lines so sharp they seemed to cut with just a glance...

Having completely finished his transformation, the mysterious visitor in the Bone Burial Ground had astonishingly turned into a behemoth just like the Dragon King.

Aside from his extra pair of wings, their bodies also formed a sharp contrast due to their completely different textures.

Strip by strip, segment by segment—overly perfect curves, impeccable angles, and surfaces as smooth as mirrors.

At a glance, not only was it almost impossible to believe this was a creature of flesh and blood, but one could even faintly sense a crystalline translucency.

In comparison, it was truly hard to say how much regal air his opponent possessed.

Filthy, decaying, its long wings rotted straight through in some places, with clusters of nematodes entwined around the inner bones.

The blood threads known as the Scarlet Angel were torn out in clumps.

However, the moment they touched the mechanical dragon body, they were vaporized by the boiling golden fire upon it.

"Do you still not understand?"

Fu Qian, who casually blocked the Dragon King's attack, wasn't in a hurry to strike back. Instead, he let out a giant dragon's roar toward the apostle who had been sent flying by the shockwave.

"Your faith has long since fallen, and the covenant you made was even stolen—"

At that moment, Fu Qian seemed to be diving into a dream, going through untold hardships to awaken a slumbering soul.

"Awaken. Do not continue to intoxicate yourself in that rotting embrace."

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