Eldritch Horror Theatre

In theory, his current actions were superfluous.

Unlike the Dragon King, who desperately wanted to reclaim that sliver of Crimson Frenzy, Fu Qian had no plans to kill the entity and take back the Body of the Tyrant.

This was a purely academic expedition; he had never expected to walk away with material gains.

Thanks to his continuous exploration, the academic harvest was already substantial.

For instance, he had confirmed the Dragon King's whereabouts, verified his long-standing theories, and caught a further glimpse into the ruthless cruelty of the First Generation Dark Moon.

Since the alarm had conveniently been triggered, packing up and leaving right now would be perfect timing.

Unfortunately, for a true academic pioneer, that wasn't enough.

How did the saying go? The slight distance between good and outstanding was called details.

His research on the Dragon King might have yielded results, but right now, Fu Qian was far more interested in the apostle.

But—why?

...

Why had Brother Apostle's sequence of actions helped him pinpoint the target?

The fundamental difference between academic research and just clearing quest markers lay in logical consistency.

You couldn't explain away everything you encountered with "that's just how it was programmed."

Every coincidence had its inevitability.

Looking at what had just happened, the core of the entire transformation seemed to hinge on the gesture Brother Apostle had taught him.

Attempting to establish contact with the Dragon King in this special place through a specific gesture.

Even the motive made sense: Brother Apostle had done it to prove he was the favored one.

A heretic like Fu Qian shouldn't have received the Dragon King's response even if he made the gesture.

Unfortunately, things backfired. Fu Qian had succeeded as well, allowing him to witness the Dragon King's miserable state.

And Brother Apostle ended up with a shattered dao heart because he couldn't comprehend it. It all flowed smoothly, but why?

Why was the Dragon King able to hide so well when this was clearly already the Bone Burial Ground? Fu Qian had come here three times, yet he had never managed to discover it.

Why did Brother Apostle know that striking that specific pose would trigger the Dragon King's response?

And most importantly, why had Fu Qian himself received the Dragon King's response after striking that pose?

The entity didn't exactly get along with him, and it was obviously hostile.

To Fu Qian, that crude logic from earlier was far from enough to explain all of this.

As a result, his curiosity about Brother Apostle only grew stronger.

"Wake... up?"

It was gratifying that Professor Fu's tireless enlightenment finally seemed to be taking effect. The previously blank-faced apostle squeezed a sliver of sound from his throat, repeating that final call.

"From where?"

His eyes remained glazed over, though, even gaining a bit more chaos.

"Indeed, from where... Why don't you tell me."

Fu Qian had no intention of elaborating, leaving him to figure it out for himself.

Shhhk—

At the same time, the tail that was almost as long as his torso abruptly doubled in size, transforming into a true Steel-Spine Longwhip. It directly nailed the head of the Dragon King, who had just taken a deep breath, firmly against its own body.

"From where..."

Putrid blood splattered. The wailing reached the pinnacle of madness, to the point where it felt as though countless Dimensional Poison Fangs had spawned from the void in that instant, tearing at flesh and will alike.

Crack—

Not even the Mechanical Dragon King was an exception. Fragments peeled off Fu Qian's body in that moment, and his clear, moon-like eyes rippled with faint light.

As for Brother Apostle beside him, not only was half of his body riddled with holes, but signs of cracking could also be seen.

As for why the other half was spared?

Simple. It was closer to the Mechanical Tyrant Dragon King.

Although Fu Qian hadn't actively taken any defensive posture, a long metallic wing had blocked the space in front of the apostle, shielding him from the majority of the impact.

"From where..."

The latter didn't seem very appreciative, however. He simply stared blankly at the desolate, mutilated corpse and repeated the phrase again.

Drip—

Resounding at the same time were some peculiar movements coming from the Dragon King.

Under the excessively violent release of power, even it couldn't escape unscathed.

The nematodes tangled within its flesh and blood were literally being ground into fine dust.

However, that strange sound didn't originate from them, but from the special individuals among them.

They were similarly crushed to pieces under the impact, but in the moment of their annihilation, it was as if a drop of water had fallen on the space before their eyes. It stirred up gentle ripples, bringing to mind the legendary act of shattering the void—

"I remember... I remember everything..."

This scene finally seemed to bring some inspiration. Brother Apostle's eyes began to brighten.

"I am not its apostle, and today is not that date!"

...

So what date was it exactly? Was the almanac really that important?

Although he could feel the man's emotions, Fu Qian still felt a faint urge to mock his lines.

Moreover, the information revealed in the apostle's words was clearly somewhat extraordinary.

On one hand, there were very clear signs of "waking up." His previous guesses had been faintly confirmed; Brother Apostle seemed to have realized that he was being "bewitched."

On the other hand, the last half of the sentence startlingly brought to mind the scene where he had asked about the date earlier.

Was the exact month and day truly that important? And why was that?

"And you—"

Unfortunately, Fu Qian wasn't given a chance to ask. Right after venting his emotions, the apostle suddenly pointed a finger at him.

"You aren't either!"

Accompanied by his judgment-like tone, the ripples that had yet to completely dissipate suddenly grew violent, and then truly shattered.

Oh?

By the time Fu Qian looked around again, he realized that the Dragon King, who had just been in close combat with him, was completely gone without a trace.

The place was still the same place, and even the crimson bouquets were still there.

Large numbers of Soul Butterflies also crawled in the bloodstains, no longer showing their previous spirituality.

Only the apostle remained standing there with his hand raised.

...

Was it really a dream? Or perhaps a projection of the inner world?

As expected, this guy was the key to the entire incident.

Everything had come to an abrupt halt, but to Fu Qian, it didn't feel all that sudden.

The answer to the previous question seemed to have been found—regarding why he was able to gain an audience with the Dragon King just by making the same gesture.

It was very simple. It wasn't that the Dragon King had acknowledged him; it was the Dragon King Apostle who had acknowledged him.

The reason the Dragon King had remained unseen in the Blood Lake for so many years was most likely because it had hidden itself within this person's spiritual world through a special method.

And although it seemed like they could communicate the whole time, the apostle's state was actually quite poor.

When Fu Qian displayed the Dimensional Poison, he had actually broken through the man's psychological defenses to a certain extent.

Afterward, when the apostle made the gesture to establish contact and Fu Qian mimicked the exact same movement, the man had "believed" that both of them should receive the Dragon King's favor, which was why he pulled Fu Qian into his inner world.

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