Eldritch Horror Theatre

For a split second, Fu Qian thought he saw a brilliant firework.

The Small Doll clearly failed to withstand his powerful blow. It instantly disintegrated, scattering bizarre patterns of flesh and blood in all directions.

A moment later, this firework—reeking of chaos and blasphemy—crashed into an overwhelmingly brilliant curtain of light.

At the center of this barrier stood Ariel, his eyes as pure as a saint's.

The surging white light was so dense it flowed like fire, instantly suppressing the chaotic filth.

Severed from its connection to Fu Qian, the curse lost its vessel and was swiftly purified without a trace.

"What are you doing?"

It all happened in a flash. By the time the light receded and the room returned to normal, Wehle was staring at Fu Qian, his tone laced with unconcealed killing intent.

Beside him, Ariel remained silent, but his gaze was just as fixed on Fu Qian. The oppressive aura of a Divine Emissary radiated from him without restraint.

Aside from purifying the Residue of the Divine Blood Curse, it had completely dispelled the Descent environment Wehle had just created for Raven Feather.

As a result, the landlord, the Old Man, looked as though he had abruptly disconnected. He stared blankly in their direction and hadn't spoken a word.

"I suddenly couldn't maintain the balance just now, so I had to go with the flow. Anyway, as long as the corruption is separated from me, it's fine, isn't it? It doesn't matter where it goes, right?"

After glancing around, Fu Qian finally offered his explanation.

"You expect me to believe that? Everything was perfectly fine, and suddenly you couldn't maintain it?"

Wehle wasn't so easily fooled. Even after hearing the explanation, his killing intent didn't diminish in the slightest.

The very next moment, he raised his cane and tapped the air once more. A disturbance—similar to the previous one, but far more intense—rippled outward, instantly enveloping the entire room.

Fu Qian was absolutely certain that this wasn't just to stabilize Raven Feather's condition; it was already a barrier erected to stop him from escaping.

"You had better think of a far more reasonable explanation, otherwise—"

Before Wehle could finish his threat, the landlord, the Old Man suddenly stepped forward and grabbed Fu Qian's arm.

Faced with this sudden move, Fu Qian blinked beneath his mask. He ultimately made no attempt to dodge, allowing the man to seize his arm.

"Being too clever for your own good is a terrible habit."

The Old Man lifted Fu Qian's hand right up to his own face.

By now, the hand had returned to its physical state. It was no longer covered in those mind-bending patterns; the curse appeared to have been completely dispelled.

But upon closer inspection, faint, nearly transparent patterns could still be seen winding across the surface of the skin.

"If a curse of this caliber could be so easily and completely transferred by a Proxy Bearer, why would I have ever troubled myself with it?"

"Right now, even though the majority of the curse has been cleansed from your actual body, its root remains. You've merely delayed what was just happening."

"I refuse to believe you haven't sensed this. So... what exactly are you trying to do?"

Finishing his sentence, the Old Man stared coldly at Fu Qian, and silence once again descended upon the room.

"Become a demigod."

In the face of this suffocating, lethal threat, Fu Qian delivered his answer without a second of hesitation, his laughter laced with unvarnished madness.

"You're absolutely right. I knew that operating in reverse like this meant the curse couldn't be completely purged."

He addressed Raven Feather first, then turned his gaze toward Wehle.

"But you were wrong about one thing. In my 175 years of life, I actually did manage to brush against that threshold."

As he spoke, Fu Qian abruptly tore off his other Glove.

Under their watchful eyes, his entire left hand took on a profoundly deep, pitch-black hue. Simultaneously, his five fingers seemed to lose their bones, elongating inch by inch until they twisted into writhing tentacles.

But the most striking detail was the scattering of starlight glinting across the surface of the dark tentacles, looking as though it were growing from deep within the flesh. These pinpricks of light were connected by indescribable lines, giving the pitch-black tentacles a bizarre, unfathomable appearance.

Witnessing this, Raven Feather, who was standing the closest, suddenly had countless blood vessels bulge beneath half of his face. They burst in rapid succession.

"My apologies."

Fu Qian apologized with utmost courtesy, even taking two steps back, yet his tone remained feverish.

"If I'm not mistaken, this is the Mythical Form, isn't it?"

He stared at his left hand, looking utterly obsessed.

"It may be incomplete, but I've been waiting for this moment for far too long."

"I had assumed my hopes of advancing to become a demigod were already shattered. I never expected that combining the curse with a demigod's brand of consciousness would produce such a miraculous effect."

"I will not let this opportunity slip away. That's why I chose to preserve this state."

"And before my body breaks down again, I will ascend and become a true demigod—"

"You really should have explained this to us beforehand."

After that exaggerated, theatrical performance, Wehle's tone finally softened slightly.

"I'm afraid that wouldn't have been possible, would it?"

Fu Qian instantly shut down the possibility.

"For tomorrow's operation, a stable, reliable Tier 4 is a far better fit than a Quasi-Demigod. I understand that perfectly well, which is exactly why I knew you would never agree to it."

"But please, rest assured. I have complete confidence in my current condition."

"In the short term, I can absolutely maintain a perfect balance."

As he spoke, as if to demonstrate control over his own state, the Mythical Form on Fu Qian's left hand gradually receded, reverting to the appearance of a normal human arm.

"If you still think I'm a liability, you're more than welcome to dispose of me and find a replacement."

Slowly slipping the Glove back on, Fu Qian handed the right to pass judgment over to the three men standing before him.

...

Thud!

A few seconds later, the landlord Old Man went limp and collapsed to the floor, completely unresponsive.

It appeared the demigod Raven Feather had chosen to simply pack up and leave.

And that gesture was undoubtedly a clear enough answer in itself.

Wehle and Ariel exchanged a glance. A moment later, Wehle raised his hand and snapped his fingers, instantly dissolving the barrier that blanketed the room.

At the same time, he extended his hand, revealing the remaining Talisman resting in his palm.

"I hope you remember your duty."

...

'Are they seriously this easy to talk to?'

Keeping his composure as he plucked the Talisman from the man's palm, Fu Qian couldn't help but feel secretly astonished.

Although he wasn't intimately familiar with the Origin Council, judging from his previous encounters with them, it was hard to imagine this group caring about any sort of camaraderie among colleagues.

Yet, considering what he had just pulled, Fu Qian couldn't shake the feeling that Wehle was being far too lenient.

With that thought in mind, Fu Qian tucked the Talisman away and smoothed out his clothes.

"Don't worry. I'll be taking my leave now."

"Where are you going?"

Wehle immediately frowned.

"The Phoenix Palace."

Fu Qian let out another light chuckle, borrowing someone else's line.

"To familiarize myself with the environment for tomorrow's operation."

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