Eldritch Horror Theatre

As mentioned earlier, Catherine was not the target.

This place was chosen because a demigod had also chosen it.

Standing outside the door moments ago, Fu Qian already knew he wasn't the only one keeping an eye on Catherine.

The visually striking demigod before him had been closely monitoring Catherine's every move from the very beginning, ready to strike at any moment.

This was exactly why Fu Qian believed she was a crucial cog in the machine.

And the reason he considered this demigod impatient was simple: the blade descending from above was obviously his doing.

Though it was unclear exactly how it worked, the hand he slammed beneath the table was most likely clutching a weapon that had then thrust out through another mirrored surface.

"What should I call you?"

After neutralizing the lethal strike from above, Fu Qian didn't rush his next move. He simply looked at the Mirror Knight, whose posture had grown stiff, and asked the question.

Unable to conceal his shock, the Mirror Knight refused to answer.

"Good question."

Fu Qian didn't mind the evasion. The next moment, he even withdrew his hand.

Seeing this, the other man grasped the unspoken intent and placed his hand on the table.

From this angle, his hand was still surprisingly empty.

"A truly miraculous weapon. Unfortunately, its wielder falls a bit short."

Fu Qian's opening words were thick with mockery. He pointed at the shattered tabletop with a cold sneer.

"Did you really think such a clumsy performance could fool anyone?"

"Would someone patient enough to sit and watch monsters wreak havoc while waiting for a suspicious person to act suddenly lose his temper over an ambiguous answer? That little act of yours just now was an insult to my intelligence."

"I'm honestly curious what kind of people you normally deal with to be this full of yourself."

"So you knew I was nearby all along?"

After a long silence, the Mirror Knight finally spoke.

Though his expression remained hidden, his fiercely controlled tone betrayed his battered pride.

"Yeah. Finding out what you were up to was one of the reasons I came into this restaurant."

Fu Qian answered with absolute honesty, shooting a rueful glance at the floor.

"Of course, the food here is decent enough, too."

...

The Mirror Knight fell silent for another few seconds. Then, a strange noise rang out.

Starting from the eyes, the visor—composed of over a hundred mirror fragments—collapsed and folded outward piece by piece, revealing a fairly young face.

His features were stern and unsmiling. Even though he had been wearing a helmet, his brown hair was cut with meticulous precision, marking him as someone who cared deeply about his appearance.

"Ballard. Grimm Ballard."

Now showing his true face, he offered a cold introduction.

"So, Mister Andiel, you still haven't answered me. Why are you here?"

Despite stating his name, he clearly had no intention of making small talk; it was merely a token gesture of communicative goodwill.

"Didn't I just tell you? I'm an audience member."

Fu Qian smiled, pointing at his own eyes.

"I'm just here for the show. I saw this place was lively and came in. Sadly, you weren't making a move, so I decided to help push the plot along."

An audience member?

Mirror Knight Ballard seemed to realize something.

"An outsider?"

"An outsider."

Fu Qian nodded with utter sincerity.

As he spoke, he repeated his earlier trick, his fingers reaching upward once more.

What was wrong with people these days? Why did they love playing the gentleman on the roof beam so much?

But this time, the thing he caught wasn't an invisible blade, but a sharp claw with a graceful curve.

Tinged with dark red, the pointed claw was clearly the tip of a long, slender appendage.

Though not as bizarre and unpredictable as Ballard's assault, the lethality behind it was astonishing.

Fu Qian had no doubt that if it actually hit him, even his own skull would be pierced straight through.

Furthermore, the timing of its appearance was exceptionally cunning, striking right after he had foiled Ballard's ambush.

In normal circumstances, no matter how vigilant someone was, they would subconsciously let their guard down against a similar trick.

What a pity. The ambusher would never understand what true professionalism looked like.

At this moment, the claw was firmly trapped in his grip, unable to advance or retreat.

Yet, even after being exposed, it still revealed a vicious side.

The next moment, the seemingly indestructible claw unexpectedly split down the middle.

An even longer talon—looking as if it were forged from concentrated blood—shot out from within, driving straight toward Fu Qian's head.

Utterly ruthless. Who knew how many formidable heroes had fallen prey to it!

Amid his musings, the fingers of Fu Qian's raised left hand rapidly elongated, stabbing back along the trajectory of the descending claw.

Those who achieve great things should see virtue and seek to equal it.

In a flash, the deadlocked assassination attempt transformed into a stationary contest of skill.

If it continued, his own head might end up with one hole, but the ambusher would receive five.

The assailant couldn't even back out if they wanted to, because from start to finish, Fu Qian had never released his grip on the claw.

...

Crack!

In a moment hanging by a single hair, the claw caught in Fu Qian's hand forcefully snapped off, leaving only the severed tip behind.

This act of severing one's wrist to survive caused his counter-thrusting finger strike to hit empty air.

"Ah!"

The next moment, a cry of pain echoed from the ceiling above, yet it failed to mask a tone of languid allure.

"That really hurts, you know!"

Along with the provocative complaint, two more claws slowly descended until they touched the floor.

As the claws contracted, the figure they supported lowered to the ground, appearing before Fu Qian and Ballard.

It was an exceptionally striking woman. She possessed full, luscious red lips and slender, soul-captivating eyes.

However, what truly drew the eye was her thick crimson hair.

Its volume went far beyond mere luxuriance; it cascaded all the way down, wrapping around her body in a peculiar fashion to serve as clothing.

Even so, as she moved, her lush curves—even more exaggerated than Catherine's—remained faintly visible.

As for those dark red claws, they were neither her hands nor her feet, but rather skeletal wings protruding from her back. Fu Qian could easily see that one of them was missing a segment.

"To think such a handsome young man could be so rough!"

The moment this queen of severed claws sat down, she stroked her mutilated limb, looking as if she was on the verge of tears.

"Huh? Wasn't it a gift for me?"

Fu Qian's expression was somehow even more shocked than hers. As he spoke, he deftly played with the broken claw, letting it dance nimbly between his fingers.

"You snapped it off yourself, so I thought you were giving me a keepsake!"

This bizarre remark rendered the queen, with all her coy glances and graceful gait, instantly speechless.

Watching the man casually play with her severed limb made it hard for her to suppress the irritation bubbling in her chest.

"If you're willing to keep it, I'm certainly delighted."

Taking a deep breath, she glanced back at Ballard with a resentful pout.

"Ballard, why didn't you help me just now?"

Clearly, the two were old acquaintances.

"Idiot!"

Ballard didn't buy into her act at all. In fact, it was as if some pent-up emotion had finally found an outlet.

"If I had made a move, you might already be dead."

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