Eldritch Horror Theatre

The Dark Moon Cult’s return from the shadows made it clear that the Witch had adopted a different style than during its founding days.

Instead of taking center stage as the Pope, she opted to maintain a deeper sense of mystery.

In that regard, a location like this was absolutely perfect—

It preserved the original structure of faith to the greatest possible extent. Sitting at the very center of that structure while remaining entirely untraceable made for a brilliant arrangement.

It seemed the residents of Laerdin shared that sentiment.

Walking alongside the Witch through the West District Church, Fu Qian couldn’t sense the slightest hint of panic over the sudden shift in faith.

This former Sacred Land of The Order was somehow even more bustling than before.

With the original system of the Law shattered, everyone had essentially been thrown back to the same starting line in short order.

Aside from a minority who might have suffered a shattered Dao heart, an overwhelming number of people were flocking here in search of the path.

The Order’s response appeared highly effective as well. Amid such an era-defining shift, they had somehow managed to forcefully maintain a degree of order.Of course, aside from Amira—whom the Witch had mentioned earlier—the Countess’s integration into the new Law must have played a significant role.

A mechanism guaranteed to respond to the Truth with a set probability was simply too vital for sustaining people’s confidence.

Along the way, for instance, Fu Qian had overheard more than one conversation mentioning that the great Dark Moon had neutralized the threat in the heavy fog outside the city. The crisis had passed, and Laerdin had survived.

And as the two of them walked through the crowd, just as the Witch had predicted, they drew no special attention whatsoever.

There were always exceptions, of course. Not everyone was eager to receive the Dark Moon’s guidance—such as the owner of the house right in front of them.

Navigating this bustling atmosphere of renewal, Fu Qian eventually signaled the Witch to stop outside a two-story stone-and-brick building.

”Here?”

With its glazed tiles and bronze railings, the structure was old and small, yet it possessed an undeniable air of elegance.

The Witch’s surprise clearly didn’t stem from disdain for the venue; rather, it seemed she already knew a thing or two about the place.

”Yeah. Mrs. Harper’s black tea is quite good, I think.”

Fu Qian nodded in confirmation and stepped up to knock on the door.

Click!

There was no need to knock twice. The door opened from within, and a silver-haired elderly woman poked her head out. It was none other than the stern Mrs. Harper.

”I believe the police have made it perfectly clear that this place is closed to sightseers.”

Her tone was even stricter than usual, the cold words snapping out the second she opened the door.

...

According to the Witch, this place had turned into a pilgrimage site, meaning Mrs. Harper no longer needed to rent out rooms to make a living. Had she really just given up on cashing in on this piece of intangible cultural heritage?

Her concise refusal instantly explained why the house was so peaceful, though it only deepened Fu Qian’s curiosity.

Besides, the Witch’s reaction seemed to faintly hint at something else—she might have actually toured this place herself in the past.

”We aren’t here for a tour.”

The old lady was unyielding and looked thoroughly sick of the harassment, but Fu Qian had always been a professional at handling rejections.

”Regrettably, I’m not taking inquiries, either.”

Unfortunately for him, someone else had clearly used that exact line before. The old lady’s slightly cloudy eyes swept over them, and her response remained as cold and crisp as ever.

”We really do have an inquiry. It’s about a letter with no sender. Have you seen it, ma’am?”

Fu Qian didn’t back down from his intentions this time, instead gesturing with his hands to emphasize the point.

He was naturally referring to the letter delivered from the Warehouse back then. The one who had forwarded it to him was the very woman standing before him.

Given the convoluted way it had been delivered, there was a high probability she remembered it clearly.

”...Who are you?”

Sure enough, the old lady’s rigid, proud nature wouldn’t allow her to lie and deny it outright.

After a brief hesitation, she stopped trying to shut the door, her question serving as a tacit admission.

”Can we step inside to talk? Please believe me, we mean no harm.”

Fu Qian played coy, flashing a warm smile instead of answering.

”Not too long ago, I heard that your black tea is excellent.”

...

”I really can’t figure out the tastes of young people anymore.”

Following the brief exchange, the two of them were finally invited into the familiar living room.

As if using the task to steady her nerves, Mrs. Harper immediately busied herself with brewing a pot of tea.

Even so, when she brought the cups out to her guests a moment later, she made it clear she didn’t entirely buy Fu Qian’s excuse.

”Tell me about it. Sometimes, I can’t even figure myself out.”

Fu Qian’s expression didn’t change at the remark. He simply picked up his cup and took a sip.

It was the same familiar taste. No wonder people always said memories had a flavor.

”Give it a try.”

Fu Qian turned and gestured toward the Witch with a sigh of appreciation.

”Hmm. A different sort of flavor. It really is quite distinct... and quite good, too.”

Having successfully scored free tea thanks to the Knight paving the way, the Witch fully immersed herself in the act.

She gave it a serious, discerning taste before finally nodding in approval.

”I’m glad you like it... To be honest, my tastes weren’t like this when I was younger. They just slowly changed over the years.”

As it turned out, the Witch might have blocked the supernatural effects of looking directly at her face, but she still effortlessly won people over.

Warmed by the praise, Mrs. Harper’s eyes softened considerably. She completely forgot that Fu Qian had dodged her question, and a moment later, she was reminiscing about her youth.

The Pope truly lived up to her title!

Even Fu Qian marveled at how smoothly things were developing.

Using the topic of the letter as a stepping stone had worked just as well as he’d hoped.

In theory, though, he still owed the old lady an explanation after stepping inside.

Thanks to the Pope’s charm, however, that step had simply been skipped. The tea party had commenced in a completely smooth, cheerful fashion.

”The young man who used to rent a room here was a bit like you two. He liked this flavor too... though his diet wasn’t exactly healthy. He had an awful sweet tooth.”

Having completely shed the stern demeanor she’d worn at the door, Mrs. Harper chatted away amiably, eager to share.

...

Although she’d had plenty of visitors over the past few days, they had all come with the exact same, single-minded purpose, which had clearly bored the old lady to tears.

Understanding her frustration, Fu Qian sipped his tea and played the perfect listener. He felt almost like a volunteer at a nursing home.

The Witch, who had already chosen to keep a low profile, didn’t seem to mind this slice-of-life atmosphere in the slightest.

There was no doubt she knew exactly who that ”previous tenant” was. Listening to stories about the Knight from an outsider’s perspective seemed highly amusing to her.

She watched Fu Qian out of the corner of her eye, looking exactly like someone listening to breakroom gossip.

”Did he really only eat sweets? Could there have been a special reason for it?”

She didn’t stop there. The next moment, she actively jumped into the conversation to speculate on the Knight’s past dietary preferences.