Eldritch Horror Theatre

Honma answered the second question much faster.

His response and the shift in their surroundings occurred almost simultaneously.

The empty, pure white void silently melted away like snow.

This stunning transition perfectly complemented his tone of voice.

More importantly, as the white faded, the previous table full of delicacies did not return.

A long table took its place instead—only slightly less white, yet shimmering with a strange luster.

Further back sat chairs, a holy altar, and right in the center lay a massive, deeply familiar Emblem—an exact replica of the Finger Orb in Honma’s hand.

This vast space, where almost everything shared the exact same hue, was clearly a mid-sized religious building.

At a glance, absolute purity permeated every corner, untainted by filth.

Yet the most striking feature was the layers of snow-white drapery cascading from the dome to surround the entire structure.They covered every radial circular window and extended inward, hanging neatly in a specific pattern. They were silky smooth—or rather, they were literally made of silk.

One glance was enough to realize that this surreal, dreamlike scene was composed of countless strands of straightened hair. All were pure white, without a single stray hue.

It gave off the dizzying illusion of a face leaning down to watch over you with a gentle gaze.

Coupled with Honma’s solemn declaration of the ”White-Headed Sanctuary,” the atmosphere had reached its absolute peak.

”Truly impressive.”

It was such a marvelous sight that even Fu Qian voiced his praise.

Aside from posing the question, he had naturally been the one to signal Ji Liushuang to dispel the Heart-Questioning Sword Prison.

He just hadn’t expected the timing to line up quite so perfectly.

His reasoning was simple. Just as Honma’s Ecstasy reached its absolute limit and he answered the first question, Fu Qian noticed that the dreamscape centered around Honma was quietly shifting outside the Sword Prison.

However, much like his own earlier situation, the restrictions of the Heart-Questioning Sword Prison prevented those changes from fully manifesting.

...

The White-Headed Sanctuary?

For the results to be this spectacular was undeniably a pleasant surprise.

No wonder people said that Brute Force Produces Miracles.

Following the abrupt change of scenery, a heavy silence hung in the air before this breathtaking sight.

While admiring the unique architecture, Fu Qian felt deeply satisfied with this development.

His original plan had been to use various conditions to push Ecstasy to its absolute limit, then observe what effect the Finger Orb would have under such extreme circumstances.

Instead, it seemed to have helped Honma transcend himself, actively severing the endless pleasure brought on by temperance. Under that immense pressure, it had directly projected this extraordinary place.

Was this what the cauldrons of the Ecstasy Collective saw when they held the orb? Was this what calmed them down?

At first glance, it made perfect sense.

This place was so flawless and holy that merely glimpsing a fraction of its glory in one’s subconscious would be enough to cleanse the soul.

But that raised an interesting question: why did it work better on those with more severe symptoms?

The parent who had angrily reported the underground gathering had acted out of sheer fury, which spoke volumes about his deep concern for his daughter.

If there had been even the slightest improvement in her condition, it was highly unlikely that it would have escaped his notice.

Did it only offer salvation to a sinner, just as some paths only opened for the Fated?

Wasn’t that standard a little too high?

”This is the place?”

Amid his musings, Fu Qian didn’t forget to verify this with Honma.

”This is it.”

Speaking in the exact same tone as before, Brother Honma surveyed his surroundings. The twisted struggle that had previously marred his face was completely gone, leaving not a single trace behind.

...

”Could you see this place the very first time you touched that orb?”

Clearly intrigued by Honma’s dramatic shift in temperament, Fu Qian offered a faint smile as he asked.

”No... Even just moments ago, I could only see a blurry image...”

Staring at the massive Emblem, Honma’s voice took on an ethereal quality, as if he were slowly merging with his surroundings.

”As for before that... I could only sense the faintest trace of it. I wasn’t even sure if I was actually seeing it...”

”But now I know for sure... This is a truly sublime Sanctum, just like the name that appeared in my mind...”

Sublime. It was a hard description to argue against.

Fu Qian didn’t interrupt Honma’s reverie. Instead, he treated the words as background narration while he reassessed the area.

There was no doubt that this place possessed an extremely high Rank. Even though this was merely a projection, simply standing within it made him—someone at Tier 2—feel as if he were being assimilated by its holy aura. He felt an involuntary urge to surrender to that peace, a tranquility where all worldly desires melted away.

In that regard, the Finger Orb’s effects made far more sense.

Although the orb itself didn’t possess a high Rank, its design alone proved it was connected to this place.

When members of the Ecstasy Collective held it, even the faintest thread of connection was likely enough to quell their seething pleasure.

Considering his earlier suspicions, if the White-Headed Sanctuary truly only saved a sinner, it meant that those with heavier desires were more susceptible to its influence.

As an exceptionally talented member of the Ecstasy Collective, Honma’s desires had been pushed to their absolute breaking point by Fu Qian’s relentless pressure. This, in turn, had provoked a stronger response from the Sanctuary, eventually culminating in its physical manifestation within the dream. Put that way, the chain of events seemed perfectly logical.

But that brought up yet another issue: quelling the thirst for pleasure acted as a direct counter to the Ecstasy Collective.

Aside from discovering the name of the White-Headed Sanctuary, Fu Qian had stood on the shoulders of giants—namely, Professor Chang. Yet, after taking her research a step further, was his conclusion fundamentally any different from hers?

Not only did this artifact appear relatively harmless, but it actually seemed beneficial for elevating one’s spiritual state.

That was going to make for one awkward mission report once he got back.

”Classmate Liushuang, what do you think?”

Never one to forget the purpose of his trip, Fu Qian smoothly punted the question to his assistant.

”This place...”

Only this time, his assistant’s reaction was a bit slower than usual.

Ji Liushuang hadn’t uttered a single word since leaving the Heart-Questioning Sword Prison. Now, as she muttered to herself, her voice also carried a faint, ethereal quality.

Possessing a Lucent Sword Heart, her perception was inherently clear and completely pure. Stepping into a place like this, she already exhibited signs of losing all her worldly attachments, entering a state where all four elements are empty.

”...Something isn’t right.”

However, forcing her gaze away to look at Fu Qian’s face, she took a deep breath and shook her head. She willed herself to reject that profound, unburdened freedom.

”Why is that?”

”You told me once: seeking clarity amidst turbidity, not turning oneself into clarity.”