Eldritch Horror Theatre

An unsolvable situation might not be absolute, but neither was a solvable one.

Fu Qian had never been naïve enough to think reality was like playing house—that every predicament guaranteed a loophole just waiting to be found and easily exploited.

Even before setting out, he had predicted this would be a clash of knowing when to stop.

Both sides, each harboring their own motives, were testing the waters. They wanted to expose as little of themselves as possible while uncovering the maximum amount of their opponent’s secrets.

That judgment remained unchanged. However, given the immense stakes involved, the definition of ”knowing when to stop” could be stretched to an extreme.

The other side, for instance, had played a trump card right out of the gate without a second word.

One Tier 2 charging at the front while another Tier 2 lurked on the sidelines. In theory, a situation like that was nearly unsolvable.

Killing them outright would be simple enough, of course—even killing both of them.

But he couldn’t forget that this abruptly appearing Tier 2 practically confirmed the worst-case scenario he had mentioned to Chief Yuan—the Conservative Faction wasn’t the only one behind this incident.

If he used a bloody approach to resolve this, it might not matter to him, but Chief Yuan—having just taken up the heavy burden of rooting out the mole—would likely never get the chance to present Kelin’s head to the Council.To proceed with the original plan in this situation—which meant maximizing the concealment of his identity as Grimshaw—a risky gambit was almost mandatory.

And the very definition of a gamble meant success was never guaranteed, no matter how confident one felt.

...

He had indeed formed some earlier speculations regarding how the Time Cage operated.

That irresistible method of accumulating damage seemed unreasonably powerful, even for a Tier 2.

Theoretically, given enough patience, the entity could use it to kill almost anyone.

A sneak attack from the shadows or a head-on clash—no matter the method, as long as it inflicted damage on the target, it could directly activate Instant Hell Strike to amplify the injury...

Unless one’s Rank was so much higher that their attacks and Health Bars existed in entirely different dimensions, it was hard to imagine how anyone could counter it.

Faced with such an outrageous ability, the first question that came to Fu Qian’s mind was how the cage activated.

Because there was a very specific detail here: back when the Prison Archangel first revealed its methods, the fish had been eaten a full twenty-nine times.

In contrast, when it heavily injured Yuan Shan by exploiting the information gap—her ignorance that the damage could accumulate—it had only repeated the cycle eleven times.

If the number of loops could be chosen freely after the damage was dealt, that discrepancy would have only one explanation: it had shown mercy, merely using the attack to put pressure on him.

But what if that wasn’t the case?

Even under the premise of keeping Yuan Shan alive, Fu Qian didn’t think Kelin needed to be so conservative as to limit the scale to just a single arm.

So, despite it being only a minor anomaly, another speculation naturally surfaced in Fu Qian’s mind: the Time Cage had to be activated in advance.

Simply put, if the Prison Archangel wanted to use this move, it was akin to submitting an application beforehand: what time to start, what time to end, and how many times to loop.

Once submitted, it couldn’t be changed.

What it had to do next was coordinate its actions with this plan, inflicting damage during that specific node known only to it in advance, thereby creating the effect of Instant Thousand Strikes.

During their standoff just now, even though he clearly hadn’t taken any damage, the clash had still repeated nine times. That was proof.

As for why it had only looped nine times after finally forcing him to strike, instead of maxing it out to a number higher than its initial twenty-nine-loop display of dominance?

This seemingly unreasonable point perfectly explained why it had only looped eleven times for Yuan Shan. It also exposed the greatest secret of this move, leading to his second conclusion: the damage accumulation applied to the caster as well.

Eating a fish didn’t matter; the higher the number of loops, the more it could intimidate its audience and create a tense atmosphere.

When it came to a real fight, the inherent unpredictability of life-and-death combat meant the Archangel wouldn’t want to suffer extra damage itself. To ensure maximum control over the situation, setting a conservative number was the most logical choice.

Of course, these conclusions were only solidified after his risky gambit. When he first decided to counterattack, he’d had nothing but a few speculations.

So if his theory was proven false, losing an arm or a leg would be the least of his worries; the true risk he was taking was with his SAN Value.

Back in the Dungeon, every hit from that beam-like attack had drained a full 5 points from his SAN Value.

If the damage accumulation didn’t actually affect the opponent, allowing it to clash without fear—or if it did, but the entity chose mutual destruction anyway—then even if Fu Qian tried his best to dodge, taking just one or two hits would make his final losses hard to predict.

This was the risk he had mentioned earlier, the gamble without any absolute certainty.

The core reason he had still chosen to execute it was simple: calculated expectations.

Although it wasn’t a massive amount, he still had a three-digit SAN Value. Combined with the Rank increase from his Pseudo-God Incarnation, the probability of covering that risk was quite high.

It was right after completing this split-second calculation that he had taken action.

And now, he had his results.

Though it wasn’t the final result just yet.

...

It was apparent that while Wen Li might normally be amicable, she was extremely strict when managing her subordinates.

After ordering the others not to disturb them, not a single person had come over to check, despite the continuous, massive commotion.

Of course, this was a good thing for the servants. He still couldn’t detect a single trace of its aura, but His Excellency the Prison Archangel could reappear at any moment.

With the enemy in the dark and him in the light, it seemed to have resumed a battle of patience.

It was just a pity that, as everyone knew, when it came to making people lose their patience, he had always been a professional.

”Max out your defensive posture. Don’t stop unless I tell you to.”

Glancing at the silent Yuan Shan, Fu Qian issued the cold command. Right after she wordlessly wove her black ribbons into a solid sphere, he seamlessly activated Blood Crusade.

Now, he was in the dark too.

...

Time ticked by, minute by minute. The night seemed especially quiet.

The Prison Archangel’s willpower appeared to be remarkably resilient; there was still no sign of it showing itself.

”Not bad.”

Observing from within the Blood Domain, Fu Qian didn’t hold back his praise just because they were on opposing sides.

It was obvious that an opponent so skilled in concealment wouldn’t easily believe he was truly gone, judging him by its own standards—even if it hadn’t displayed any attacks capable of tracking him here.

It was even possible that it had a direct way of detecting him due to the pending purification status on his body.

Of course, that didn’t mean the situation would remain at a stalemate. After offering his praise, Fu Qian raised his hand and directly removed Emissary.

Even after returning to the Warehouse, he seamlessly activated the Imprint on his wrist once again.

Here, try detecting me now.