Eldritch Horror Theatre

Almost the moment he crossed the threshold, the Thorn Gate snapped shut behind him, dissipating the Lucid Dream along with it.

It was obvious the Red Moon had absolutely no desire to maintain contact with that place in any capacity.

Naturally, Fu Qian had no complaints about this.

Given the massive commotion he’d just caused, if that setup really belonged to the Night Watchers, a response was guaranteed—and they wouldn’t be slow about it.

After all, once a trap was sprung, the trappers would immediately come to secure their catch before it could escape.

Now, though, they were probably going to need a serious brainstorming session to figure out exactly what had just happened.

All in all, a massive success.

Fu Qian didn’t rush to inspect his spoils. Instead, he tossed the egg aside, immediately deactivating his Mythical Form while triggering the Decree of Return.

Thanks to his sheer efficiency, the Pseudo-God Incarnation still hadn’t worn off, though his current appearance was undeniably wretched.

Bathing directly in that toxic pool had subjected his entire body to the same devastating condition his legs had suffered during his first exploration.Even with his Mythical Form active, he looked much like that flock of rotting Flesh Phoenixes. Barely any flesh remained on his face.

Worse, when dodging that special ambushing bug at the very end, his upper torso had been grazed by a necrotic ray, dissolving a massive chunk of his left ribcage.

The next moment, Fu Qian reached down and plucked a stowaway insect from his few remaining ribs.

Having suddenly arrived in a completely alien environment, the bug was clearly terrified, curling up tight and losing all of its previous vigor.

Even so, it couldn’t fully conceal the soft teeth lining its sharp, narrow maw.

”Welcome to—”

Fu Qian didn’t rush to exterminate it. Instead, stretching his ragged cheek muscles, he flashed a hideous, welcoming grin.

Sadly, he couldn’t even finish the greeting before the bug was reduced to a fine paste, slipping through his fingers as if diced by countless blades.

Fu Qian felt the exact same sensation across his own body.

His flesh, blood, bone, and skin were caught in a veritable bladestorm, expertly and meticulously butchered away.

Given how deeply the corruption had set in, he lost over half his body weight in an instant. The agonizing thrill of the process went without saying.

The results, of course, were undeniable. The grueling stalemate was instantly broken, and the corruption fiercely resisting the Decree of Return melted away like thin snow under a blazing sun.

A purge he had estimated would take hours was largely finished in half a minute.

”Thank you.”

The moment he regained his capacity for speech, Fu Qian offered his sincere gratitude.

There was no doubt about it—from the pest control to the bone-scraping surgery, it had all been the Red Moon’s doing.

It hadn’t complained about him wandering into dangerous places and dragging filth back home. It simply reached out to help.

Through impossibly precise bladework, it had subjected him to a physical purification, dissolving the corruption directly.

Given the Red Moon’s current state, Fu Qian hadn’t originally been optimistic enough to expect this.

Now, all he had to do was wait for a slow recovery.

At this point, the Pseudo-God Incarnation finally ended. Fu Qian didn’t push himself any further, finding a relatively flat rock and taking a seat.

”Child...”

Only then did the Red Moon’s voice ring out again, brimming with a pity and emotion even thicker than before.

Yet, as this tender care reached his ears, Fu Qian felt a numb prickle across his nonexistent scalp. An ominous premonition swelled in his chest as he looked down at his hands.

...

Sure enough!

A heartbeat later, a seemingly familiar red thread abruptly materialized across his ruined palm.

The thread slithered and coiled, desperately stitching the torn flesh of his hand back together.

Considering the extreme bone-scraping detox he’d just undergone, even with his slight recovery, less than seventy percent of his hand remained.

In no time at all, a haphazard crisscross of red stitches marred his skin, looking like a swarm of blood-red centipedes crawling across his flesh.

And that was just a microcosm of his entire body.

In the blink of an eye, identical stitches had spread everywhere. At a glance, he looked like an Abomination rocking an eight-pack.

Honestly, I just needed a little more rest...

Fu Qian sighed internally, but didn’t voice the thought.

He had guessed this might happen a moment ago, but the Red Moon had moved far too quickly.

Walking around like this was bound to give small children nightmares.

Jokes aside, Fu Qian didn’t actually mind his new look too much.

Its sense of proportion was a little extreme, but the Red Moon undoubtedly meant well.

It called him ”child” every time, after all. Thread in the loving mother’s hands, stitching up the rebellious son.

”Thank you. I’ll absolutely do it again next time.”

After offering his thanks once more, the rebellious son, Fu Qian, picked up the egg he’d tossed on the ground right in front of the Red Moon.

At this proximity, that profound sense of Transcendence—where even time lost all meaning—became increasingly intense.

Even contained within the egg, the metallic fluid seemed to pulse. It grew increasingly frenzied as he brought it closer, radiating a desperate urge to fuse with him.

In that regard, it truly was a mutual attraction.

Unsurprisingly, the Red Moon offered absolutely no reaction to the object.

Just as he’d predicted, since the Blazing Rainbow knew about his relationship with the Red Moon, it never would have laid its trap without factoring that in.

When it came down to this binary choice, the Red Moon likely had no way to help him directly.

...

”Whether it’s the Crystal Sun or this Metallic Bird Blood, I’m honestly a little curious how they were woven out of thin air...”

Raising the fractured egg as close to his face as possible, Fu Qian shook his head and murmured to himself.

He didn’t mind the Red Moon’s inability to help in the slightest.

As an adult, handling your own problems was a baseline requirement.

Right now, his greatest curiosity was actually a question he had been pondering for quite some time.

In his summary of the Pseudo-God Ritual, it had been noted that the Divine Trait associated with a False God hadn’t originally existed, but would manifest shortly because of his presence.

Assuming it was birthed from nothingness, was there any special significance to the two locations where these traits had appeared?

Theoretically, since they were mutually drawn to each other, wouldn’t it make sense for the trait to spawn as close to him as possible?

The only logical conclusion was that they couldn’t just be nurtured into existence anywhere.

Based on what he already knew, both locations seemed tied to the fall of a Divine Entity. He wondered if that was the determining factor.

That naturally brought up another question.

If the item currently in his hands wasn’t a Divine Trait born because of him, but rather something that had existed long before, then why had it been down in that Blood Lake?

That flock of Flesh Phoenixes had felt like entities of an incredibly high Rank. What was their connection to this thing?

It was all very curious... and he had absolutely no leads.

But that didn’t mean he was completely out of ideas. The simplest answer was that whoever had laid the trap in the Blood Lake undoubtedly knew far more about this than he did.

Seeing the metallic blood in the egg practically trying to crawl onto his skin, Fu Qian pulled it back a bit.

It wasn’t time yet.

”Goodbye.”

Rather than waiting for his wounds to finish healing, he simply stood up and walked back toward the door he’d come through.

Unsurprisingly, the Red Moon didn’t respond.