Eldritch Horror Theatre

”Emperor Rob, is it...? This world already has its master.”

The true essence of the Sword Pavilion was actually... mushrooms?

Such a bizarre sight seemingly stirred memories of the past for the interim spokesperson of Apocalypse, prompting him to mutter to himself and sigh the name of an old friend.

However, having long occupied the lofty heights of Transcendent Tier 2, he naturally wouldn’t be easily shaken.

The next moment, Fu Qian turned around and picked up the shortsword that had previously left him with only one hand.

It still retained its heavy, archaic style. Its former sharp edge had long been concealed, replaced by a resilience where great skill requires no artifice—snap!

With a crisp crack, the upper half of the shortsword went flying at the flick of Fu Qian’s finger.

”Even the variety is slightly different.”

Mimicking his previous action, Fu Qian brought the remaining half of the broken sword to his nose and sniffed. He let out another quick sigh of amazement, his gaze sweeping over all the other weapons.

”Never mind. I might as well go meet an old friend directly... Who says there’s no path forward in Apocalypse?”He didn’t actually snap the rest of the collection one by one. Tossing the broken sword aside, Fu Qian didn’t spare it another glance and activated Blood Crusade.

Everything was normal. Walking through alternate dimensions posed absolutely no problem.

But by the same token, that connection hadn’t weakened in the slightest either.

It wasn’t surprising. There was no way the shielding effect could be better than the Warehouse’s.

”Professor Fu, Your Excellency, are you going in to take a look today?”

Other than that, when Fu Qian arrived outside and deactivated Blood Crusade, he was quickly spotted by the gatekeeper.

The gatekeeper was as respectful as ever, acting exactly as if this was the first time today he had seen Elder Fu out for a stroll.

”Thanks, but I have some business over at the Academy.”

With a gentle smile, Fu Qian didn’t neglect Apocalypse’s manners. Thanking the man, he drifted off into the distance.

...

The person was alive, his mind was active, and even his Transcendent Rank was fine—his body odor was just a bit strong.

During that brief greeting, a series of conclusions had already been drawn; he hadn’t even needed to pluck the man’s head off to take a sniff.

After his previous two experiences, Fu Qian was getting into the swing of things. He could easily distinguish the different mushroom scents in his surroundings.

And the final conclusion was that there were no exceptions.

Every blade of grass, every tree, every brick, and every stone—there wasn’t a single place that didn’t bring to mind the tangled mycelium within.

As for the polite gatekeeper, one could almost see spores falling profusely from his head.

It wasn’t strange. It had been said before that Master Yuhun possessed a multitude of methods. Back during the Akons incident, the power of so many higher entities had reemerged precisely because of him.

Now, not only had he banished Fu Qian outside the Real Academy, but casually dragging a few higher entities over to spectate was also a very normal operation.

It was called an inner demon, but no one ever said it couldn’t be eliminated through physical means.

Dragging out a group of higher entities to gang up on him until he died, or beating him until he fled, were clearly acceptable ways to win this round.

In short, it was far stronger than Anjing’s Summoning Technique. Throughout the entire process, Fu Qian seemingly never had a chance to touch his opponent, forever doomed to scramble through one temporary file after another.

At the same time, the injuries sustained in these unreal places remained on his body without the slightest discount.

Of course, there was still a minor question: would those malicious higher entities trail him all the way into the temporary files?

After he brushed past a few more pedestrians, the long-unseen Apocalypse Branch came into sight.

Appraising the building under the warm winter sun—arguably the most modern and least artistic in design among the four branches—Fu Qian could clearly pick out the window where Professor Rob used to burn the midnight oil running experiments.

It was hard to say whether this special power was truly directly related to his Mushroom Sword, or if it was just some sort of formal coincidence.

At the same time, from this angle, he didn’t see any particularly horrifying scenes either.

The weather was excellent, still bearing no relation to the previously mentioned impending snow. At a certain moment, Fu Qian reached out his hand, as if to touch the radiance cast by the sun—Riiip!

With a casual tug, that clear sky was torn open directly, like a massive oil painting being ripped apart.

...

No question about it, the Fungal Emperor had still followed him here.

Just like during the Akons incident, when that crying sound had followed him all the way.

Faced with a sight that would almost certainly drive anyone with a slightly more fragile mind insane just by looking at it, Fu Qian drew his conclusion without delaying for a single second.

It was obviously not some simple corrosive parasitism or the like; that was merely the most superficial manifestation. The very essence of the world was changing alongside the Descent of the power behind the mushrooms.

For example, behind that torn sky, it wasn’t even empty space.

”Looking” out through the small gap, Fu Qian seemed to see densely packed mycelium, woven together in an inconceivable manner.

The sky was not empty, and all things possess spirit indeed.

Beneath the dull facade, everything was one entity. He could even seemingly feel the concept known as destiny flickering across the mycelium.

This was the truth of the world, and the core where the mycelium entwined seemed to be precisely his original destination.

”It’s only been a few days, and my old friend has indeed mastered a divine art.”

Yet Professor Fu remained free and easy. Nodding in satisfaction at that moment, he completely ignored the torn void and continued hurrying toward Professor Rob’s laboratory.

However, right at that moment, the square floor tiles beneath his feet acted as if they had been startled, unexpectedly interlocking and rotating like dominoes.

The resulting Dislocation transmitted to the foot stepping on them in a bizarre manner. Under the strange and astonishingly tremendous force, Fu Qian seemed to hear his own shin bones creaking.

And just as this step finally landed anyway, a nearby streetlight let out a teeth-aching shriek of tearing metal. In an instant, it had twisted itself into a hound with long, slender limbs and lunged straight at him without hesitation.

Truly, all things possess spirit.

Fu Qian casually met it with an Air Bullet, his footsteps never stopping.

Astonishingly, however, this attack—which even a Demigod would have to handle carefully—caused absolutely no hindrance to the hound’s movements. In a flash, it had lunged right before his eyes.

At the exact same time, a heavy impact landed on Fu Qian’s body, packed with tremendous force.

Was this the power of destiny he had felt just now? Refracting attacks onto others?

Miraculous indeed—but this was also why he had used an Air Bullet just now.

Finding it deeply amusing, Fu Qian activated Blood Crusade just before the hound’s fangs and claws could touch his skin.

Sizzle—

Yet, at the very moment he crossed paths with his attacker, a massive sword seemingly cleaved through dimensions and appeared directly within the blood domain—crashing head-on into a surging mass of tentacles.

The higher entity belonging to the sword path had been waiting for him for a long time.

Although things had been very peaceful over at the Sword Pavilion since his return this time, true professionals were never blindly optimistic.

Amidst his sigh of realization, more tentacles erupted from Fu Qian’s body in an endless torrent.