Eldritch Horror Theatre

These final preparations naturally had their purpose.

When Fu Qian appeared beside the long table, ripples seemed to wash through the entire Warehouse.

Almost instantly, he tossed the two masks aside.

Amid a violent fit of coughing, he hacked up chunks of shredded flesh onto the floor.

Even separated from his body, the flesh retained its vitality. It writhed and stretched into long strips, trying to converge into dislocated circles.

The next moment, Fu Qian snapped his fingers and activated the Decree of Return.

The strips of flesh instantly grew sluggish, rapidly dissolving under the Warehouse’s suppression.

The eerie patterns spreading across his own body slowed in tandem.

A few seconds later, the Warehouse seemed to adapt to the sudden change, settling back into silence.

The reason was simple: the effect of the Pseudo-God Incarnation had ended, and his rank had dropped back to demigod.Fu Qian collapsed heavily into the Chair.

He never harbored any delusions of killing a Tier 1 with a demigod rank.

Thus, from the very beginning, his plan had been to maintain the Pseudo-God Incarnation state the entire time.

However, even though his current SAN Value was enough to pay for it eighteen times, this ultimate move—which cost ten SAN Value points to use—had a cooldown period, just like the Delusion Step Ring. It couldn’t be sustained indefinitely simply by burning through SAN Value.

Surviving that cooldown window, therefore, was a crucial part of his plan.

Fu Qian’s countermeasure was straightforward: he would just take off the mask right before the duration ended.

This was exactly why he had insisted on checking in today.

How could he not exploit a godly skill like time-stopping?

...

Of course, this action wasn’t entirely without risk.

Facing an opponent who also possessed a Deity Tier rank, he had to consider the possibility that his connection to the Warehouse might be severed.

Fu Qian had prepared a contingency for that as well.

He had tested it long ago. Under the effects of the Eternally Lucid Mind, he could still return to the Warehouse by removing his mask.

If an unexpected situation truly arose, this practically invincible Hearthstone tactic was absolutely worth a shot.

At this moment, due to the pollution, his connection with the Red Moon wasn’t completely severed. Under the Warehouse’s filter, however, it was negligible.

As for why he hadn’t used the Decree of Return to control the pollution until now—it was simple. His goal had never been to flee for his life.

Resting his eyes, Fu Qian felt every minute change in his body and his items.

Minute by minute passed. By the time he opened his eyes again, the wounds left by the Mark of Old Days had completely healed.

The mutations in his body had mostly reversed, though naturally, the eerie patterns symbolizing the Red Moon remained.

That was enough.

Standing up from his seat, Fu Qian walked over and retrieved the two masks.

This trip to Ye Island originally didn’t include deicide on the itinerary.

But since he had run into one, he might as well go with the flow.

Over the past few months, it was obvious that the Warehouse was in rather poor condition.

Not only had it been disrupted more than once, but ever since he reached the demigod level, it hadn’t provided a single prompt regarding promotion—even after he had killed a God of Clamor.

This was exactly what he had told Yasui Tokiyuki earlier: it had no effect.

Fortunately, he was as open-minded as an empty valley, so he didn’t care much about such things.

If the Warehouse was temporarily weakened, he might as well rely on himself to ascend. By killing a Tier 1 in peak condition, he could see if he might uncover a catalyst for advancement.

How did that saying go? Yesterday, I was proud of the Warehouse; today, the Warehouse is proud of me—wait, no. Yesterday, I made the Warehouse feel I had utility; today, the Warehouse makes me feel it has utility.

The adult world was better off laid bare.

[SAN Value -10]

Fu Qian activated the Pseudo-God Incarnation once more.

He almost forgot—there was one last thing.

Instead of rushing to put on the mask, Fu Qian slipped the Delusion Step Ring off his finger and tossed it straight into his mouth.

He was a sage, after all.

If there were restrictions, he would just learn it himself.

That was the basic professionalism of a scientific researcher.

...

When he reappeared on the Half-Step Moon, a brilliant comet was shining overhead.

Faced with this gorgeous sight that one could never tire of, Fu Qian still paused to admire it—even though he was its direct target—until a freezing chill tore through the vine net and engulfed everything.

The familiar cascading waterfall of ice surged outward again, centering on where he stood.

Not only were the vines shredded, but even the monsters standing a bit too close were heavily wounded or killed by the blow. Along with the corpses Fu Qian had created, they were hurled far into the distance.

Yasui Tokiyuki frowned slightly, as if sensing something amiss.

The tortoiseshell shield reappeared around him, effortlessly blocking the ice storm.

Wait, it hadn’t blocked it completely?

The next moment, feeling an unexpected frost, Yasui Tokiyuki noticed the sharp, black-and-red claw right in front of him.

The unshakeable shield was like paper before it.

Blood sprayed into the air.

This unforeseen ambush had finally left a direct wound.

But that was all. Almost simultaneously, Yasui Tokiyuki’s body blurred into a streak of light, instantly appearing in midair.

It looked like teleportation, but unlike Fu Qian’s direct spatial deception, it relied on controlling the environment to push his speed to the absolute limit.

Yet as everyone knew, Blink and extreme speed were never the same thing.

In midair, Fu Qian’s figure materialized almost exactly when Yasui Tokiyuki did.

The armor Yasui Tokiyuki had just summoned—made of countless mirrored surfaces—was pierced through in a single strike once more.

By sacrificing its permanent attributes, Delusion Step no longer had a cooldown.

An eerie scene ensued. Amid the ice storm, a streak of light darted wildly up and down, doing everything it could to shake off pursuit. Yet, every single time, it crashed straight into a sharp claw thrust out from different angles.

As blood scattered again and again, an illusory river suddenly manifested, drowning everything in its surroundings.

It resembled the legendary River Styx. Although it had no physical water, wherever the black currents swept past, the monsters Yasui Tokiyuki had manifested seemed to instantly undergo the erosion of endless time, decaying into ash.

Even the stones on the ground suffered the same fate.

And Yasui Tokiyuki, caught in the middle of it, finally used this to break free from the pursuit.

Retreating in instant alarm, Fu Qian stood outside the river’s reach, tore off his own left arm, and tossed it aside.

Having been tainted by just a single drop, his left arm had rapidly withered and rotted.

Even after ripping it off just now, with his immense regenerative abilities, he was temporarily unable to regrow it.

This thing was vastly stronger than those assorted monsters and demons.

...

Cough, cough!

To shake off Fu Qian, Yasui Tokiyuki had practically plunged his own body into the river water, and it was obvious this hadn’t come without a price.

Amid a violent fit of coughing, the newly ascended Tier 1 visibly aged in the blink of an eye.

However, his movements didn’t stop for a second. While coughing, he threw out a transparent statue.

The rapidly dissipating river water surprisingly began to churn once more as the statue swiftly absorbed it.

The next moment, a three-headed, six-armed figure, colored like ink jade, stood blocking Yasui Tokiyuki. The aura that had originally belonged to the River Styx now flowed around its entire body.

”I retract my previous assessment.” Yasui Tokiyuki finally stopped coughing, looking at Fu Qian with an indescribable expression.

”Nepheli was right. Your origins might be just as special as Ariel’s.”