Eldritch Horror Theatre

Were the occasional surging tides in the Shattered Deity Burial Ground actually connected to the Long Night from a thousand years ago?

Considering the numerous Divine Entities that had fallen during that history, it didn’t entirely surprise Fu Qian.

The strange part was that, despite his Rank being one Layer higher, he could barely feel the tides Su Gao described.

Was her perception really that strong, or was there some other special reason?

He had initially pursued this trail to catch a glimpse of a thousand-year-old mystery.

He hadn’t stopped Su Gao from taking this final risk partly out of respect for her principles, and partly because he had considered her unique constitution.

The Echo in the Long Night might bring her some special benefits.

She would also, of course, serve as a perfect observation subject to help him understand the reality within the Long Night.

That’s right—Classmate Su Gao’s role as a volunteer was still ongoing.

Still, actually seeing such a stark contrast was somewhat surprising.Fu Qian could, however, sense some of the chaos Su Gao had mentioned.

This night was far less peaceful and quiet than it appeared on the surface. Even though the scenes in the child’s dream had looked exaggerated, the level of hostility here was clearly much higher.

For the simplest example: having sat here for only a moment, Fu Qian had already noticed more than one ”fragment” of the night sky.

It wasn’t literally shattered into pieces, of course. Rather, the stars in different areas seemed to follow entirely different rules of motion.

Everything had fallen into total disarray.

To use an analogy, it was like reaching into a tank of water filled with floating ice and stirring it. The water might still look clear, but the crushed ice had actually already sliced the surface apart, with each piece spinning on its own.

If an astrologer or the like were here, they would likely cough up blood and die in under three seconds.

In contrast, the description of ”tides” was a bit abstract—but they seemed to truly exist.

At this moment, the cracks originating from Su Gao’s palm were already spreading at a staggering speed, and they were far finer and more chaotic than before.

In the blink of an eye, the earlier metaphor about the floating ice was perfectly mirrored on her body.

Tiny fragments of White Porcelain across her skin collided and spun, converging into swirling vortexes as if to fight against the crashing tides.

Beyond that lay pain, Dislocation, fragility... Fu Qian was no abstract master, yet in that moment, he still interpreted a multitude of negative concepts from this rhythm.

She wasn’t just perceiving more than he was—she was also enduring far more.

These turbulent fragments were even continuing to drive her body toward a total breakdown, such as her eyes.

Su Gao kept her head bowed in the same staring posture, yet Fu Qian could already see drops of blood falling into her palm.

”I think I see more.”

Yet Fu Qian still made no attempt to help.

Classmate Su Gao had indeed brought him new gains, and at the same time, her own gains didn’t seem to stop there.

Under the physical mutations, she had actually entered a state of special calm, which could be heard in her already slightly altered voice.

”Describe it.”

Fu Qian prompted casually a moment later, just like his previous requests to his volunteer.

...

”It’s everywhere. A stormy tide floods all places, and I can hear a chorus of voices...”

”The starry sky, the mind, The Abyss, all sorts of inconceivable places... Nothing is spared, and nothing is immune to shattering...”

Su Gao was always this cooperative. Even as she murmured, she raised her other blood-drenched hand to clasp her shattered limb.

”This is a true apocalypse, but all wills are struggling... I suppose that’s why the Long Night still eventually passes...”

Sensing all this clearly brought her considerable agony; her voice was already trembling by the end.

’You’re doing the same.’

While committing every word to memory, Fu Qian looked at her two hands—a contrast of crimson and white—and replied silently in his mind.

There wasn’t just shattering; this body was also putting up a stubborn struggle.

A tiny but resilient will was desperately tugging at the chaotic porcelain fragments, trying to impart a sliver of order upon them to maintain the concept of self amidst the shattering.

But as the cracks spread completely, not a single intact piece of her body could be found to serve as an Anchor Point, making this persistence increasingly difficult.

Blood not only dyed the porcelain pieces crimson, but flowed so heavily it could no longer be caught, spilling straight from her palms.

Su Gao still didn’t move, nor did she make another sound, making one wonder if she even still possessed the ability to speak.

In Fu Qian’s eyes, even though she had just been speaking moments ago, the overwhelming chaos meant she might not even be able to perceive her surroundings anymore.

”I don’t know if this will be useful.”

Fu Qian finally responded a moment later.

Taking another step forward, he lifted her two clasped hands while pinching a pristine white Ring.

The White Ring, a reward he had received in a mission related to the person before him.

Compared to Su Gao’s current state, its Rank was undoubtedly far too low by now, but the benefit was that it remained completely intact.

If put on, perhaps it could provide a tiny artificial Anchor Point to help maintain her self?

The only minor problem was that the White Ring’s size was based on his own hand.

Sizing it up, Fu Qian nimbly slipped it onto that White Porcelain thumb.

...

”Thank you... I feel a lot better.”

The effect seemed immediate. Still maintaining her unchanging posture, Su Gao actually spoke up softly to thank him.

And what she said appeared to be the truth.

With the not-so-high-Rank White Ring placed on her hand, this body’s sliver of persistence for order truly seemed to gain an extra Anchor Point.

From that thumb outward, the shattered porcelain fragments were being slowly tugged and realigned, making the ring act as a sea-calming divine needle—but it was still far from enough.

Faced with her thanks, Fu Qian didn’t make a sound.

This Long Night clearly had some specific targeting toward Su Gao. Expecting such a small prop to completely turn the tide would be far too naive.

Under the endless washing tides, this feeble Anchor Point would—at best—leave him with a thumb-shaped relic once the person in question completely shattered.

Still, this process wasn’t entirely without gains. Even shattered to this degree and attempting to reassemble, the scene he had seen on the Doll he pulled out to dispel the curse after his last return from the Bone Burial Ground still hadn’t appeared—countless tiny bodies of various forms acting like mechanical parts to collectively form a complete Doll.

The fragments on Classmate Su Gao were just fragments, showing not the slightest sign of transforming into that twisted thing.

There appeared to be a fundamental difference between these two similar-looking creations.

This conclusion alone could be called a major harvest for this trip.

Of course, it wasn’t his final harvest. Aside from the White Ring, he still had plenty of other props.

[SAN Value -10]

Fu Qian directly activated Pseudo-God Incarnation and grasped at the empty air. A moment later, an elegant, slender Longsword had appeared in his hand.

’Ah, Sword Three Short of One, it turns out you were with me all along...’

”Mr. Fu, can you still hear my voice?”

Just as Fu Qian recited that line in his mind, Su Gao, having received no response for a while, also asked in a voice that was barely audible.