Eldritch Horror Theatre

In truth, it wasn't just Akasha and her companion; even the demigods who had charged halfway forward were just as bewildered.

Seeing Fu Qian sitting there with half his neck missing, his flesh softening and knitting back together strand by strand, almost everyone silently pondered the sequence of events.

Even Fu Qian was staring at his right hand, deep in thought.

With the Visceral Attack concluded, the details of what had just transpired blurred in an instant. He couldn't even remember what his target looked like.

The only certainty was that, adopting a rather wicked posture, he had utterly annihilated a "hero" named Ballard.

"The Prophet apologizes for the rudeness just now and wishes to speak with you again."

Akasha suddenly spoke, looking at Fu Qian with a serious expression.

After she spoke, her brow visibly relaxed a fraction.

"Sure, then I'll wait for him right here."

'Truly worthy of the Prophet. To have "figured things out" so quickly despite missing an entire character.'

The bewilderment of Akasha, her companion, and the other demigods was easy to explain—under the effect of the Visceral Attack, they had completely forgotten Ballard.

Because of this, they couldn't immediately figure out how the recent conflict had started.

And the reason Akasha looked so relieved was that this bizarre situation now had an explanation: Yuan Fang believed the Natives had initiated the conflict.

This made perfect sense. For one thing, he didn't appear to have any reason to attack; for another, even with half his neck missing, he hadn't fought back.

Such sincerity in their cooperation was moving enough to shake heaven and earth.

As for why the Natives were suddenly so hostile toward their partner, the reason was also easy to guess. They thought his attitude was ambiguous and suspected him of letting an outsider who had already stepped into the trap escape. Driven by impulse and anger, they had attacked.

Fortunately, Yuan Fang had stopped them in time, preventing a tragedy.

Indeed, in Fu Qian's view, it was highly probable that the Prophet had issued a remote command just now, prompting Akasha and her companion to stay their hands.

Otherwise, it was hard to imagine how the two would have stopped so cleanly.

As for why Yuan Fang was coming now?

A group of his people had acted on impulse and nearly killed their partner.

Even if only for the sake of their secret plot, he had to show up and properly placate him.

Of course, Fu Qian hoped that wasn't the only reason.

...

As it stood, whether it was pollution or corruption, the reason this mission had appeared was because his patient had been subjected to some unknown influence that caused a problem with her mental state.

The mission brief described her as "fundamentally deep and tranquil," yet now she was acting up and getting "restless."

This restlessness was so intense that she had to rely on an external force to point the way—namely, himself as the task runner.

This was no easy feat.

The mission brief was simply too vague.

The target, her state, and the problem—so far, these could only be deduced in fragments through constant testing and summarization. It was a hundred times harder than diagnosing a pulse by suspended threads.

And now, with her condition unclear, he had to rely on these limited elements to attempt a treatment as quickly as possible.

Because the patient could become incurable at any moment.

...

Fortunately, as an expert in mental pollution who understood that prolonged exposure to poison makes one a doctor, Fu Qian had quite a bit of insight into this area.

In his view, for an entity akin to a world will, it was hard to imagine anything being able to completely deceive her.

Internal conflict mostly stemmed from self-doubt.

If she was troubled, it was highly likely she had begun to question her original self—the so-called difficulty of staying true to one's original intentions.

In other words, it wasn't that she was powerless to resist the restlessness. Instead, she didn't necessarily view this restless state as wrong; she might actually believe her original self was what was wrong.

To address this situation, what he needed to do was help her correct her biases and reforge her original intentions.

As for how exactly to reforge them... a role model seemed like a viable method. Like Ballard, for example.

Although, fundamentally speaking, Ballard was nothing more than the physical manifestation of a symbol within this chaotic realm.

His death and even his disappearance were trivial matters. He was nothing but a relic meant to be buried with the old era, and it was hard to say whether he could affect anything.

Yet in the fate-dominated Unseen Hill, this entity—who could barely even be considered "alive"—represented the ultimate condensation of a certain heroic concept.

So what if his fate was predestined?

In countless films and television shows, during those impassioned, stirring scenes, a critical viewer could clearly tell who was taking the stage, how they were acting, how the story was being told, and even where the zipper on the monster suit was.

All these details let you know it was just an act.

Looking back years later, you might even find it childish and ridiculous.

But none of that contradicted the "hero" they were trying to portray. He believed that, as a world will, his patient wouldn't be so narrow-minded.

From the scene that had just played out, she should be able to extract enough material for a role model, prompting her to reexamine her doubts about her original intentions.

So, young one, do you still believe in the light?

...

That was right. This was the true meaning behind Fu Qian's exchange with Ballard just now. The entire process had also been a "conversation" with his patient.

In Fu Qian's view, when reduced to scratching an itch through a boot, this was perhaps the method capable of generating the highest impact on her right now.

And Ballard hadn't disappointed him.

Faced with an absurd and ridiculous fate, he had quite literally burned himself away until not a single trace remained, gladly accepting that destiny as if it were sweet nectar.

The reason Fu Qian had called it an "honor" moments ago was precisely because of this.

Everyone had their limitations. As for those who could fully savor and uphold their original intentions within those limits, Fu Qian didn't believe anyone had the right to sit before them with a sense of superiority.

...

"I am truly very sorry about what happened just now."

Following the incident, Fu Qian's treatment appeared to be of a rather high standard.

Yuan Fang, who clearly rarely left his quarters, hadn't raised any objections after Fu Qian relayed his request through Akasha. It didn't take him long to arrive at the dining hall.

And the very moment he sat down, he offered a sincere apology.

"It's fine."

Fu Qian didn't even look up. Faced with a table full of fine food, he ate with great relish.

The bodyguard duo clearly had no appetite, simply sitting silently to the side.

"According to what was said before, was this meeting also destined by fate?"

Fu Qian was still a polite person at heart. After eating his fill, he finally wiped his mouth, looked at Yuan Fang, and asked.

He didn't know if it was just an illusion, but despite such a "misunderstanding" having occurred, Yuan Fang actually seemed quite cheerful.

"It is."

Yuan Fang nodded decisively.

"Including my gratitude to you. I am absolutely certain."

"Just a moment ago, I saw more. That beautiful future has become much clearer."

The smile on his face was genuinely from the heart.

"I must thank you for your cooperation."

So it was still a future blessed by the Flame Blessing?

Fu Qian nodded, his expression completely impassive.

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